> Guardians of Chaos
>  by Unwhole Hole
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1: The Unbreakable Prison
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

From the darkness the lights began to flicker, illuminating the vast system of hallways with a cold and dim glow. Exactly where the illumination came from had never been established; there were no obvious lamps or anything that could be conceived of as generating light. Rather, the endless corridors and enormous empty room seemed to glow from within.  

            It was through these newly lit hallways that Discord slowly walked, moving at a leisurely pace and humming a jaunty tune as he took his time. Although normally completely and entirely nude- -a fact that he was well aware of and secretly found hilarious- -today he had elected to wear a soft and fluffy sweater. After all, the moon was a terribly cold place.  

            As he walked, he took a moment to consider the objects that he had placed long ago in the alcoves of the enormously wide hallways of the moon’s inner systems. Superficially, they resembled statues: they were made of gray, granite-like stones, and formed into the image of ponies. Had any other being walked through these halls- -a difficult task, considering the atmosphere was not really breathable- -they might have thought that their odd poses and grimacing faces were a result of Discord’s eccentric taste in decoration. This, of course, was not the case; Discord much preferred statues of himself, and usually favored the kind that danced.  

            These statues were, in reality, ponies. Each one was frozen in a number of horribly uncomfortable positions, usually with a look of fear or utter defeat on their faces. They had been here since the Old War, when they had picked the wrong side. Discord ruminated on that fact while he ruminated on rumen, and realized that a thousand years had passed surprisingly quickly.  

            The ponies were, of course, still fully conscious. They had been for the last thousand years. Each one had been trapped unable to move or to close- -or open in some cases- -their eyes for the entire duration. They had seen nothing but the dark moon-hallways, except for a few that Discord had determined to have excellent looking flanks. They had been put to face a wall.   

            Discord, having re-swallowed his rumen, slithered to one of the ponies, a stallion who had held the same look of shock as he had possessed the day he had been frozen. His tears were even still attached, although they would never finish falling. 

            “Tsk tsk tsk!” said Discord. “Oh my, oh dear! Getting stoned on the job! What would your superiors say? Why, I should tell your mother! Or I would, if she hadn’t died, oh, about ten centuries ago.” He laughed, and then moved to another area. In a wider alcove, he had placed a pair of ponies. They were a pair of lovers, and the stallion was reaching for his beloved. She, meanwhile, was attempting to step toward him, even though as stone the two would never be able to reach again.  

            “Hmm,” said Discord, stroking his beard- -or, rather, a disembodied floating version of his beard. “It looks like your relationship is a little…rocky.” A rim-shot went off from somewhere in hallway went off, and a number of tiny Discords poked their heads from around the hallways and audibly groaned. 

            “Oh please,” said the large Discord. “I’ve done worse!” He laughed at himself, and then approached the mare of the pair. “My, such a hard body,” he said, poking her outstretched foreleg. He tapped the leg rather hard, and then to his surprise it snapped off, falling to the ground and shattering. A thin trickle of deep-red blood dripped from the stump where it had been attached.  

            “Oh my! Your body is about as fragile as my ego!” Discord chuckled and snapped his fingers. A small dustpan and broom began to sweep up what had formerly been a pony’s leg. “Well, I don’t mean to gravel you. You’re all surprisingly unimportant, and I really do need to get on with my work. Running a planet is so very hard. And I’m sure you all know what it’s like to be hard.” 

            There was no sound from the group apart from silence and the hum of the ancient moon-machinery. Discord actually caught himself sighing. He was not the biggest fan of the moon. In fact, he was not a fan at all, despite how much hot air he tended to move just by virtue of being Discord. Something about the silence and solitude of the moon, though, frightened him. Not overtly, of course- -he was, after all, a living god- -but on a deeper and somehow more terrible level.  

            He continued on, trying not to focus on the flat floor of polished material and the walls that were made of neither metal nor stone. This was always the part that made his skin crawl- -one time, in fact, to the extent that it had crawled off his body entirely and he had been forced to hunt it down. It was the fact that this was one of the few pieces of Equestria that he had not built. He was not sure who had built it, exactly, or when, or even why. Those were questions Discord very rarely asked- -especially ‘why’, as it always had the most boring of responses- -but he could not help but feel the spark of them burning dimly within him.  

            “Curse all this excessive contemplation,” he said. “I mean, could it get more self-important? It’s really ruining the mood. This is a happy time, after all! There’s nothing happier than visiting old friends!” 

             

            In time, Discord finally reached what he considered the main room of the facility. All he had to do was follow the low sobs. The sound was almost rhythmic, and it made Discord giddy with excitement.  

            The room was enormous, but populated almost entirely by two vast machines. What they had originally been intended for had been lost to time long before Discord had even thought of creating himself, but now they served one of the most important purposes in all of Equestria. At the center of each one, their bodies entombed by claws and clasps of unbreakable material and penetrated with the wires and tubes that integrated them to the celestial sphere, were a pair of ponies. The one who was sobbing was a light blue color, while the other, who remained silent despite the eternal pain of her abdomen being mostly filled with agonizing machinery, was white in color.  

            “Celestia, Luna,” said a highly serious version of Discord dressed in an anachronistic prison guard outfit. “You have a visitor.” 

            As soon as he stated it, a red carpet rolled out of the door and Discord emerged to a plume of pyrotechnic sparks.  

            “Yay Discord!” cried a number of tiny discords that appeared on the sides of the Carpet.  

            “Can I have your autograph?” 

            “Sign me! SIGN ME NOW!” 

            “Oh dear me,” said Discord. “Look at all my biggest fans!”  

            Celestia did not seem amused, and glared at him. Luna, though, seemed more terrified and attempted to retreat. Doing so was impossible, though. Her body was trapped by the metal that surrounded her, merging her to the moon itself.  

            “Oh,” said Discord, darkly. He snapped his fingers and all his carefully planned fanfare disappeared. “You two never were any fun, were you?”  

            Celestia did not respond. She just continued to glare. Had her horn not been cut off, she likely would have attempted to summon a spell against Discord. Doing so would have been useless even it if was possible, though. The same machines that bound her biology to the lunar prison would have absorbed it all, likely with horrifically painful results.   

            “Such a killjoy,” muttered Discord as he approached Luna. “You always liked spoiling fun. Not an ounce of creativity. Why, if you had just a gram of madness for every inch of your thick, juicy- -” 

            “Is there a reason you came here, Discord?” 

            “Of course not! When have I ever done anything with REASON? Down on Equestria, that’s the word we used for dried grapes.” He sighed. “But, I do like dried grapes sometimes. Never prunes, of course. But dried grapes are good. How long has it been, Celestia?” 

            “Since what? Since you put me in here?” 

            “Since I put both of you in there,” said Discord, lifting Luna’s chin. She tried to pull away, and to mask the fact that she had been crying. “We’re approaching the thousandth anniversary now. Which means that last week was your one thousandth and sixteenth birthday, doesn’t it Little Luna?” 

            Luna did not answer, attempting to be defiant.  

            “Sad that you spent your entire life in this prison. But I do have something for you.” Luna looked to Discord hesitantly, and Discord smiled. “Now, listen carefully. ‘I scream. You scream. We all scream…’”  

            Luna’s eyes lit up just slightly with hope. “For…for iced cream?” 

            “Nope!” laughed discord, manifesting a spray can next to him. He grabbed it out of the air and sprayed it in Luna’s eyes, immediately causing her to release a scream so shrill and horrible that even Celestia shivered. “Because I maced you!”  

            At this punch line, Discord howled with laughter in equal proportion to Luna’s screams of agony. He found it so funny that he quite literally rolled on the floor laughing. When he was finished, he stood up and wiped a tear from his eye. “Ah,” he said. “That was funny. It’s an ‘unjoke’, see? Because the ending is ironic and challenges the expectation of the original rhyme while still being a logical conclusion to its structure! And her face! Luna, you actually looked like you thought I’d give you ice cream!” 

            At this point, Luna was not listening. She was crying again. 

            “Shut up Luna,” demanded Celestia. “You’re embarrassing yourself!” 

            “Sister! It- -it hurts!” 

            “And I don’t care,” said Celestia. “Stop being a disgrace and mare up!”  

            “Well, you would know about ‘maring up’,” said Discord, crossing to where Celestia was trapped. He stood extra close to her and gently caressed the side of her face. Celestia glared at him with disgust, and then suddenly bit off his hand. 

            “Hmm,” said Discord, looking down at the bloodless stump where his eagle-like claw had been. It immediately started to grow back. “Well, that’s not polite at all. Uncouth, even.” 

            Celestia spit the severed limb onto the floor, and it stood up on its fingers and ran away. “I’d be careful about that,” said Discord, watching Luna recoil in terror as it approached her. “That happened a few days ago. Accident with the toaster I’m afraid. That will probably try to touch you in your sleep.” He paused. “Or would, if you slept. But we can’t really have Little Luna reaching out through dreams, now, can we?” 

            “So you came here to mace Luna on her birthday?” 

            “Why? Does she not deserve it?” 

            “No. She does. And she knows what she did. If she had wielded the Elements of Harmony properly, it would be you in this machine. Not me.” 

            “Psh,” said Discord, waving his hand dismissively. “I dodged the attack fair and square! I won the Old War, and you lost.” He leaned back in a comfortable armchair. “That said, if I had a dried grape, it would be concerning that very reason!”  

            “Forgive me if I don’t understand.” 

            “No. But, since you’re just a bit thick, I’ll explain. I’m here to give you a royal report on just how great Equestria is doing!” 

            “You mean since you flooded it with chaos and disharmony?” 

            “I mean since I improved it! After all, what kind of a place was it a thousand years ago? Boring. Dull. Ordered. Stagnant.”  

            “We had peace. And happiness.” 

            “And Equestria still has those things too, just without the, you know, tyranny. Without rules and laws and such.” Discord summoned some hot vanilla- -in honor of Celestia, most likely, and because hot chocolate was too mainstream- -and sipped it. “Under my rule, technological development has been, well, possible. The economy is thousands of times greater than it ever was when Canterlot was a thing. Medicine, science, robotics- -” 

            “Weapons?” 

            “Well, yes. That too.” 

            “Just because I’m trapped here doesn’t mean I can’t perceive your world, Discord. What I see is a world trapped in eternal conflict. Every pony is constantly struggling, often with fatal results. Their lives are shallow and pointless. Do you really think anypony could be happy with that?” 

            “But that was the fundamental flaw of YOUR Equestria. It was too boring!” 

            “It was safe.” 

            “That’s exactly the problem! When ponies have everything they want- -when there’s no war, or upheaval, or disasters, or downheaval- -they don’t ever advance!” He leaned forward. “That’s the secret! Just enough chaos to make sure the world is never in order, to keep ponies striving toward the kind of society you had- -but to never let them have it!”  

            “But what is the point of a society like that? What purpose does the advancement serve if it’s goal can never be reached?” 

            Discord sighed and rolled his eyes. They clicked across the floor and, as always, came up with a pair of ones- -snake eyes. “There’s no reason why chaos can’t be both the mean and the ends! Although I do hate calculating the mean. The mean is nowhere near as interesting as the median! But I digress. And regress, just slightly. The point is, I’ve created a world ruled by chaos- -and created a world better than any you could ever create.” 

            “So you’re here to brag?” Celestia laughed humorlessly. “Brag about a world I consider an abomination?” 

            Discord frowned, and then snapped his fingers, dispelling the lawn chair he had been sitting in. “Well, there’s no reason to be rude about it. I was even going to let Luna out for a walk. But for that, well, now I don’t even want to.”             

            “W…what?” said Luna, looking up with her eyes swollen and her face covered in tears and snots and still in a great deal of pain.  

            “He’s lying, Luna,” sighed Celestia, rolling her eyes. “What have I told you about hope? You cannot ever allow yourself to feel it. It will destroy you.” 

            “Then what exactly keeps you from giving up?” asked Discord, somewhat disturbed that this sentiment was coming from Celestia herself. 

            Celestia smiled. There was no humor in that smile, but something else that made Discords shiver. Celestia’s teeth seemed strangely sharp. “Eternal, undying hatred,” she replied.  

            “Well, yes, that sound healthy,” said Discord. “Clearly.”  

            He checked his watch. “Ah, look at the time,” he said. “The chapter’s about up. And my wife is making dinner tonight. She has a knack for…well, not much. But she looks so darn cute in an apron.” He turned and began to walk toward the exit. Before he left, though, he stopped. 

            “Oh yes!” he said, turning back around. “For your information, I’m not an idiot.” He stretched out his hand, and there was a powerful flash of chaos energy. Three bright lights appeared floating over it. “I know an escape attempt when I see it. And I never was a big fan of prophesies.” 

            Discord closed his fist, and the three stars detonated in his grip. He then opened his palm and allowed their dust- -now quickly fading from pure white to black and ashy- -to fall to the floor. “You’re never leaving here,” he said. “Stop trying. Equestria is mine. It always has been, and it always will be.” 

            With that, he gave a salute and vanished into a plume of plaid light. 

            Luna stared wide-eyed at the small pile of ash on the floor. Her face contorted, and she felt a pain far worse than Discord’s terrible joke as she saw the bodies of her three most loyal and beloved stars. After their centuries of painstaking dedication, they had been murdered, her most beautiful creations slain before her very eyes.  

            Celestia looked on with a similar emotion, but not at the loss of the stars. She cared little for their extinguished lives, and instead lamented at the loss of over eight hundred years of planning and careful work. 

            “Sister,” said Luna, turning to Celestia. “My stars…without my stars, I- -I cannot release us from this prison.” 

            “I can see that,” said Celestia, darkly. She turned away from Luna and looked up to where she knew Equestria was below them.  

            “Then- -then we are trapped here. Forever…” 

            “No,” said Celestia. “We will find a way out.” 

            “How?” 

            “I don’t know. And I don’t know how long it will take. But we will break free of this prison. And when we do, we will correct the world. We will end the reighn of chaos and disharmony, and bring unity and peace. And his Equestria and all of the corrupted ponies within it will burn in Solar Fire until nothing remains…”  

            Luna had begun to despair, but allowed herself to feel a glimmer of hope. She trusted her sister, and knew that she would do everything in her power and never stop until Equestria was once again under the eternal dominion of the Goddess of the Sun.  




 
> Chapter 2: Officer of Unlaw
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The automatic door slid open, and a large group of ponies stepped in. Most of them were dressed in dark colored uniforms indicative of their position as Enforcers of the Unlaw. Only one of them was not: a young white unicorn carrying only as small but especially stylish saddlebag. To her, though, the appearance of the Enforcers said a great deal more than the organization that they belonged to. Each uniform was different in its own right. Rarity could see high-collared coats that indicated clerical workers, or longer garments that indicated forensic scientists. There were those in more formal suits- -administrators or, if they lacked a tie, detectives, and at least one pair of Pegasus mares dressed in bomber jackets over tight jumpsuits indicating that they were flight patrol. 

            By and large, though, the majority of the ponies entering the office were dressed with thinly armored black uniforms. That was the standard uniform that most ponies were familiar with, and the image that the word “police” would conjure in their mind. Rarity, though, was far more aware of the clothes that they wore and had worn since their inception. The number of uniforms and designs was actually quite profound, and some of the formalwear was downright stunning.  

            What Rarity could not understand, though, was why the vast majority of the ponies passing through on their business were nearly identical. At least three quarters of them- -especially the street units- -were dark blue unicorns, with identically styled manes. Even their sex was difficult to determine; the distinction between stallions and mares was almost completely nonexistent. Rarity had never seen anything like it before, and it made her just a bit uncomfortable.  

            The situation as a whole was not exactly pleasant either. In fact, it was quite overwhelming, and Rarity felt somewhat dizzy as she looked up into the vast room that surrounded her. It was larger by far than anything in Ponyville, but it seemed to just be the lobby for the Centre. Confused, Rarity stepped forward through the crowd toward what seemed to be the front desk. She only stopped- -with a squeak of surprise- -when a mechanical sphere hovered near her. It’s electrical eye blinked with a click as it scanned her. Its light then changed from pink to magenta, apparently indicating that she was clear to pass.  

            As the machine hovered away, Rarity approached a slightly bored looking pony at the front desk. She was the only one there, as the Enforcers all seemed to know where they were going. Do to the size of the room, the rear- -where the desk was- -was actually rather sparsely occupied. Most of the others had gone their separate way by then.   

            The pony behind the desk sat up. She was a blue unicorn, but not of the same standard format as the others. Her coat was lighter, and her mane was white instead of blue. She was dressed in a clerical uniform, so it was apparent that she was just the pony Rarity needed to help her.  

            “Excuse me,” said Rarity, smiling to the clerk. She looked at the name plaquard on the desk. “Miss…Trixie, is it?”  

            The clerk, though, just glared at Rarity. She then sighed and rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”  

             “Well,” said Rarity, taken aback by the clerk’s rudeness. “I’m here for my first day.” 

            “First day of what?” asked Trixie, raising an eyebrow. 

            “Oh. Yes. I’ve been accepted for a job, and I was informed that I ought to report here, to the Unlaw Center.” 

            Trixie seemed to scrutinize Rarity. “Um, no,” she said at last. “No you’re not.” 

            “Excuse me?” 

            “Well maintained mane? Makeup? A smell like…” She took a few sniffs near Rarity’s head. “Like lilac and…marshmallows? No. The Unlaw Center doesn’t hire ponies for that job anymore. Too many ponies got the swamp fever from the last one.”  

            “What?” asked Rarity. “I don’t- -” She gasped as she understood and blushed in horror and embarrasement. “N- -NO! How dare you!” 

            “How dare Trixie? Trixie dares because Trixie is a daring pony! That is why Trixie has a desk with a nametag!”  

            “I’m here for the Guardianship position!” 

            Trixie blinked, her self-promotion momentarily delayed. Then she burst out laughing. “You? YOU? A Watcher?!” This quickly dissolved into outright belly-laughing so loud that several nearby ponies turned to stare. Rarity felt even more embarrassed.  

            “I have a letter of acceptance,” said Rarity, producing the official document. 

            Trixie leaned forward and took it in her magic. She promptly ripped it to shreds.  

            “No you don’t,” she said. “Now get!” 

            “Excuse me?!” 

            “I said GET!” 

            “You can’t tell me to ‘get’! I- -I’m supposed to be here!” 

            “Clearly not!” 

            “Clearly- -how? Do you need to call your supervisors- -” 

            Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “No. You’re not allowed here because TRIXIE says so! Trixie is NOT going to contact her supervisor because she cannot afford another pay deduction!” 

            “Well, then, I’m going through anyway! I was going to ask you directions and try to be polite, but- -” 

            Rarity had tried to step past the desk toward the two doors flanking it, but she was pushed back by a surge of blue magic.  

            “No, you are NOT!” cried Trixie, standing up suddenly. “I am the GREAT and POWERFUL Trixie! My authority over these doors is unquestioned and absolute! It is TRIXIE who decides who gets in and who GETS OUT! And you will respect Trixie’s authority!” 

            “But I need to- -” 

            Rarity suddenly cried out. Trixie had struck her with an offensive spell. The spell had been very bright and flashy but profoundly weak. It had hurt, but Rarity had really been more surprised.  

            “Get out before Trixie throws you out!”  

            Rarity glared at Trixie, and Trixie glared back with an infuriating smile on her face.  

            “Fine,” said Rarity, defeated. She turned away and stomped back to the door. 

            “Dirty hick,” said Trixie as she went back to looking bored.  

            Ignoring this, Rarity continued toward the exit. As she did, she noticed some tears flowing down her cheeks, carrying her mascara with them. It had not been the hick comment- -although it had been extremely hurtful- -but rather the fact that this had been her last chance. Without this job, there was nothing left.  

            Rarity exited the inner door and headed toward the one that led back onto the streets of Discordalot. As she put her hoof against the brass handle, though, she heard a voice. 

            “Go out that door, and you will never have the job.” 

            Confused, Rarity looked around. Despite how close the voice had been, she could not see who had spoken. The crowd was too thick with nearly identical blue unicorns, and the speaker could not be identified.  

            The words made Rarity pause, though. She was about to push the door when she took a deep breath and lowered her hoof, wiping her eyes in the process. She was not ready to give up her opportunity just yet.  

  

            Personnel continued to enter the Centre, going about their days. Clerks were toting papers or notes, and some were surrounded by portable holograms as they organized complex situations remotely. Others were just arriving at work, or departing on patrol.  

            Several were also delivery ponies. One of these approached the front desk. She stood out from the other ponies in that instead of a black or gray uniform, she wore a brown one denoted by a muffin, the symbol of the courier company she worked for. Her coat was an extremely vibrant and nearly fluorescent pink, and her hair fluffy and green, styled into a messy bob.  

            “I have a delivery,” she said, gesturing toward a saddlebag on her side. “Department H.” 

            “H?” said Trixie, sitting up suddenly. “Let me see? Does it smell like cake? H is always ordering cake!” 

            “No can do,” said the delivery mare, holding up her hoof. “It’s top priority. The contract says I have to deliver it by hoof directly to the recipient.” 

            “By hoof?” Trixie looked suspicious. “What is it?” 

            “Do I look like I have the clearance to know that? I mean, you probably do, being a big strong Enforcer.” 

            “Ex- -excuse me?” 

            The delivery pony leaned on the desk and flicked her eyelids. Trixie began to blush. “You’re an Enforcer, aren’t you? But I can see they’ve got you on desk duty. Did you off somepony? You’re one of those renegade loose-cannon types, aren’t you?” 

            “I didn’t- -um- -maybe?” 

            “Sweet Discord’s left leg. I have a thing for mares in uniforms. Especially those with counterwoven kevlex fiber and double breasted buttons. Honestly, if the director of H hadn’t told me to rush this, I’d take you back to my delivery van and let you ‘deliver a package’, if you know what I mean.” 

            Trixie laughed awkwardly and blushed even more substantially. “Well, if you have time, Trixie have a break coming up- -wait a minute. You said the DIRECTOR?” 

            “I did.” 

            “Oh crap! It’s probably another severed head, then! The brain function drops  the longer…just go! Get that delivered! Then…um…if you want…” 

            “I’ll find you,” said the delivery pony, winking.  

            She started toward the door, but then as an afterthought Trixie stopped her. 

            “Wait!” she said. 

            “I don’t know if I can. You said this is perishable- -” 

            “Just procedure. I almost forgot.” Her horn glowed, and one of the mechanical spheres approached. “I have to make sure you’re not a changeling, first.” 

            The sphere floated near the delivery pony, and then clicked. It’s light changed from pink to magenta, indicating that the pony it was facing was, in fact, a pony. 

            “Oh. Good. You’re clear to go,” said Trixie, having the sphere snap several more pictures of the delivery mare’s flank as she entered. “Be sure to come back, okay? Trixie gets so lonely at the front desk…”  

            The delivery mare nodded and continued into the hallway. It was empty, and after she got out of sight of the door, the delivery mare sighed. Her pink-colored horn glowed with blue light, and her coat color began to change. The fluorescent pink faded to light rose, and then finally to white. Her hair, likewise, shifted back to blue and extended to its normal shape. She winced and blinked her eyes against the sting of her pupils shifting from green back to blue.  

            In only a few seconds, Rarity had returned to her normal form.  

            “Green hair,” she sighed as she took off her saddlebag. She stripped down to her normal nude state, folding the impromptu disguise and putting it back in the bag. It had been well made for being something she had thrown together ad hoc, but the tight shorts chafed and there was no way it would actually work to trick a real Enforcer. The muffin insignia was not even embroidered properly.  

            This hallway continued for some time before suddenly and completely opening. Rarity gasped when she saw the room inside. To her, the foyer had seemed enormous- -but the room within dwarfed even her grandest ideas of how large an indoor space could possibly be.  

            The room was roughly the size and shape of an aircraft hangar. It seemed to extend forever in all directions. Even the ceiling was incredibly high, and the intervening atmosphere was filled with lines of Pegasi who had elected to fly overhead rather than walk on the floor.  

            There were no internal walls to divide the space. Instead, the immense floor had been divided into strangely spaced regions and fiefdoms. This mostly meant cubicles of various types, but several rather large buildings had been constructed within the room to serve specific departments. To Rarity, it was like looking at a small city.  

            Her chief complaint, though, was that the overall design aesthetic was rather dull. Discordalot was not known for being pretty, but it was at least normally visually interesting. Here, though, everything was concrete, with no decorations save from various designations of the regions and a few drab banners bearing the Chaos symbol.    

            “Oh my,” said Rarity as she descended into the avenues that ran through the seemingly endless office. “It could at least do with some color…perhaps some wall art? And maybe a potted plant. Right…there. And there, and there, and a few flowers over there…”  

            She took out a small pad and began writing her ideas down. Her job, of course, would not involve interior design, but she wanted to be the best Rarity she could be and impress her new employers. That, and the size and alien nature of this place was frightening to her. Designing calmed her.  

            Fortunately, the designs of this environment seemed not to be concerned at all with her presence. Most of them continued on their way, going to and coming from locations that Rarity did not know to serve purposes that she could not hope to understand. Most of the ponies were similar to the ones that she had seen in the front room, save for one type. There were a number of ponies with distinct uniforms that seemed to serve as secretaries and management. Just as many of the street enforcers were blue unicorns, all of these ponies were gray earth-ponies. All wore the same hairstyle, and all looked nearly identical. They were smaller than the blue ponies, though, and more feminine to the point where Rarity suspected that they were all mares.  

            Many of those ponies were surrounded by mobile holographic interfaces, and a few had distinctly bright and nearly luminescent eyes that indicated that their originals had been replaced. At least one even had a complete visor implant inserted into where her eyes had once been.  

            This only made the situation more unnerving, but Rarity pressed on for at least half an hour- -until she realized she had no idea where she was going. Confused and by this time completely lost, Rarity looked around. She spied an elevator and rushed toward it. 

            “Hold the door, please!” she called.  

            The pony inside did, and Rarity slid through the door. Running even a small amount had made her out of breath, and she sighed. “Thank you,” she said.  

            “It was not a problem,” he said in return. “Which floor?” 

            “Oh, um…” Rarity had not considered that she would need to select one. “I’ll just enter it myself. No need to trouble yourself.” She reached out toward the pad- -or where it should have been. Instead, she stared confused at the edge of the wall near the door. There was no pad. It was just flat metal.  

            That was when the elevator began to descend. Rarity shivered. She knew that the building overall had many floors, but she also knew that she had entered on the ground floor- -and were headed down.  

            She turned toward the pony who was in the elevator with her. Physically, he was identical to any of the enforcer stallions, with a blue coat and a similarly blue mane. What Rarity noticed immediately, though, was that his uniform was different. The armor was thicker and more extensive, and came equipped with boots. It was the type of armor that SWAT officers would wear, and it thematically matched the other uniforms perfectly. There were modifications, though. Rarity noticed that it contained two metallic side-arm holsters, as well as a long thin one that appeared to be designed for a sword. Of all the uniforms Rarity had seen and taken account of, this one was subtly different than any of them.  

            “Rarity of Ponyville,” he said. It was not a question, but a declarative statement. Had Rarity not decided that he was a stallion she would not have been able to tell by his voice alone. His tone was also strange. It was not exactly monotone, nor did he sound bored; in fact, he sounded impeccably polite, although in the most disinterested way possible.  

            “How- - how did you know that?”  

            “White coat. Blue eyes, blue hair. A cutie mark consisting of three symmetric gemstones.” He paused. “Usually, at least.”  

            Rarity’s eyes narrowed and despite her nervousness she stood her ground. “And why, exactly, do you know that? I’m flattered, but I’m hardly famous.” 

            “You most certainly are not. Or at least not yet. I know who you are because it is my job to know.” He turned slowly toward her. His expression was as neutral as his voice, and his turquoise eyes seemed to bore into her. “I am the Watcher Darknight.”  

            Rarity almost fainted from surprise. “Dark…Dark Knight?” 

            The blue unicorn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “No. ‘Darknight’. One word. Or two. With the second being ‘Night’ as in ‘time of darkness’.” 

            “Oh.” Rarity paused. “Then why choose such a confusing name?” 

            “I didn’t. I was assigned it. My actual whole designation is Dark Series G4-A266G-616.” 

            “The…Dark Series?” 

            Darknight looked confused for a moment. Then he seemed to understand. “Ah,” he said. “My series has not been released commercially in your region yet. My apologies, I had forgotten. The Dark series is a modification of the now obsolete Shadow line, which is itself a derivative of the Obsidian Series. We are designed to be more heavy-bodied and sturdier than the Shadow Series, but more user-friendly than Obsidian. We are programmed for obedience, docility, and the ability to commit violence without remorse.”  

            Rarity had no idea what he was talking about, or if the legends were true and the Watchers were in fact all insane. If that was true, she knew that she would not exit this elevator alive. Or in once piece. The thought of not being able to have an open-casket funeral terrified her.  

            Then the elevator stopped, and, much to Rarity’s surprise, the door opened. Rarity looked to Darknight, who gestured for her to exit. She did, and found herself in a brightly lit hallway.  

            “What is this place?” she asked. 

            “Our core facility,” replied Darknight. “Offices, training, refit areas, living areas. If you need them. Some of us prefer to live off-site and only stop by for the research wing or equipment resupply.” He paused. “Do you have off-site housing?” 

            “No,” said Rarity firmly. “I have nothing except what is in this bag. And even that is not much.” 

            “Then you will be able to live in the common barracks, or be assigned an area. Right now there are only two of us who live here consistently, so there is plenty of space. But first, you need to be fitted.”  

            “Fitted?” Rarity perked up, immediately thinking that there might be clothing involved.  

            “Yes.” Darknight approached a door, and it opened to reveal a short staircase down into a large room. Rarity followed him into an area that was filled with wall-to-wall shelves. The items on the shelves were impeccably organized and as neat as they were diverse. A number of them were weapons, ranging from pistols to rifles to almost any kind of melee weapons imaginable, but the majority seemed to be raw materials of various types. The room had several gaps that led to similar rooms, creating a complex something like a warehouse.  

            “What is this?” asked Rarity.  

            Darknight replied with a non-sequitur. “The mortality rate of Watchers is ninety eight percent for the first mission. Of the remaining two percent, one point seven are so badly mutilated that they are immediately euthanized upon return. The pony you are replacing, Golden Harvest, fell into the latter category.”  

            Rarity stared at him, not sure if he was being serious. “That- -that’s horrible.” 

            “It is neither horrible nor pleasant. It is simply a fact, as are most things. It is, however, detrimental to our forces if ponies keep dying. Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to offer you this facility.” 

            “And what kind of facility, exactly, is it?” 

            “Our supply stockpile. Fit yourself as you see necessary. You can use what you find here, but we have an automated manufacturing suite for anything that you cannot. Cost is not a consideration. As a Watcher, your work-related account is unlimited.” 

            “Un…unlimited?” 

            “Yes. Find whatever suits you, or make it. Or don’t, if you think you’re already equipped well enough. But be very careful in what you choose. Your life depends on it. You do not have a mission assigned right now, so take this opportunity to think on the subject.”  

            Rarity shivered. “And…and if I do…well, not make it…”       

            “Familial compensation is not affected by the number of missions completed. When you arrived here, you became a Watcher. That includes all the rights and privileges associated with that position. Nothing in this world matters to you now save for the preservation of Eternal Chaos and the will of the Madgod. All you have left to lose is your life.”  

            Darknight turned to leave, and Rarity looked out at the shelves. After a moment, though, she stopped him. “How many missions have you served?” 

            Darknight paused. “I have been a watcher for two years and seven months. I have successfully completed seventeen missions.” 

            “And…and how many ponies have you killed?” 

            “Three hundred and forty eight. Excluding Golden Harvest.”  

            “And does that bother you?” 

            “No. They opposed the will of Chaos. By definition, they had forfeited their lives. My feelings toward the subject are neither positive nor negative. I exist to complete a task, and for nothing more. This is the path that we now both share.”
> Chapter 3: The Cyborg
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took some time, but Rarity did as she was told. Her initial assessment had not been false: the warehouse had been quite large and extensively stocked. There were types of fabric that even she did not know about, as well as all manners of buttons and threads, as well as exotic substances like leather. It had been a long time since she had been permitted to fully express her creativity and to do what she truly loved, and she had poured her heart into her work.  

            There had been numerous sketches, and several prototypes. The early versions had been too elaborate, though. Rarity understood that the job she had been assigned was distinctly physical, and that she needed to add a much greater element of practicality than she normally would. This restriction, though, had only improved her work.  

            What she had eventually produced was practical, professional, and utterly fabulous. The primary garment was violet in color with extensive black and silver accents. The fabric she had used had been selected both for its color as well as its resistance to abrasion, corrosives, puncture, and fire. That alone was impressive, and there was no way  Rarity would ever have had access to this type of fabric on her own, but the innate nature of the fabric alone was not nearly enough to produce and effective uniform. Technical aspects like damage and heat resistance required careful consideration, ranging from fastener locations to seam layout. One false step could be fatal- -but Rarity was sure that she had made no such steps. 

            The garment covered her entire body, including her feet which were clad in heavy but comfortable boots. The part she was most proud of by far, though, was the outer coat. It consisted of numerous scales of a strange bluish-white metal, all perfectly linked and assembled into a flexible metallic mail that was as light and flexible as silk. It had by far taken the longest to create, but Rarity adored the way the scales gleamed in the light. She had not felt so beautiful in a long, long time.  

            The new clothing gave her a little bit more confidence, and momentarily made her forget about the nature of her new occupation. Still, the unusual coldness of her surroundings made her extremely uncomfortable. Despite what had happened to her there, she found herself missing Ponyville and resenting these cold, windowless corridors that never let her forget that she was underground.  

            She took some time to familiarize herself with the layout, but after barely half an hour found herself hopelessly lost. That was when she spied Darknight through an open entryway, sitting at a table and sipping in silence from a white mug levitated by his magic.  

            Rarity smiled, and without hesitating stepped into the room, which turned out to be a small cafeteria.  

            “Darknight,” she began, “I was just looking for you! I was hoping you could give me some feedback on this. I think it looks simply fabulous, but it’s hard to judge the contrast with the violet when…” 

            She trailed off when she realized that Darknight was not alone. Sitting across from him at a chair separated some distance from the table was a mare who was now staring at Rarity.  

            Her appearance was rather starling. Firstly, Rarity was initially unable to determine what race she was. Her first thought had been earth-pony, but when she saw the substantial scar in the center of the mare’s forehead where a horn would normally have been that idea was cast in doubt. The scar sat directly above a pair of mismatched eyes. One was a sickly green with a vertical slit for a pupil, an indicator of severe forced mutation. The other was blue and almost luminescent, and as Rarity watched the mechanical iris closed slightly and the internal lenses reconfigured to focus on her.  

            The mare was dressed in a black jacket with a pair of orange chevrons on the sleeves, which she wore open over a full-body suit of armor that was paradoxically form fitting despite being made entirely out of rigid metal. The metal itself had been given a coating of orange and red that matched the mare’s hair, which was an almost bacon-like mixture of red and orange. It probably would have been quite beautiful had it not been cut so severely short.  

            Rarity stared at the mare, and the mare stared back with a look of complete disinterest, only moving to take a long drag from a cigarette she was holding in a metallic claw that emerged from her left foreleg.  

            “Oh,” said Rarity. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I didn’t see you there. The angle of the door and all. I’m Rarity- -” 

            “I know who you are.” The mare took another drag from her cigarette, and the smoke poured out a pair of metallic vents on her neck.       

            “I have to admit, I am mildly impressed,” said Darknight, breaking the awkward pause. “For such a short time, it is far better than the stuff we usually contract out. And that mail…there are few if any ponies alive today who can work mithril.”  

            “Oh, well,” said Rarity, feeling a bit embarrassed but basking in the attention. “It was nothing too challenging.”  

            “Do you have any idea how much that would cost?” said the mare, pointing with one of her free fingers on the same hand-like projection that was holding her cigarette. “You could take every pony you know, sell them into slavery, charge for every hour they work, and grind them into soylent at the end of their lives, and that would still only pay for one scale.” 

            “True,” said Darknight. “But we were not using it anyway. I didn’t think there existed a pony who would know how to.” 

            “Oh, I know. It’s just…it’s bucking mithril. And somehow you managed to make it look girly!” 

            “Girly! I’ll have you know that this uniform could be unisex! If I changed the fundamental color scheme…and redid the boots…and perhaps altered the shoulders? Hmm…”  

            The mare sighed, and put out her cigarette in an ash tray. She then stood, and there was a mechanical sound as her right foreleg shifted, opening and snapping back togather as the claw she had been using retracted into robotic structure.  

            It was only then that Rarity noticed the subtle oddities of her  movement, and the way how her armor moved in response to its owner’s shifting position- -or rather, the lack of movement. Rarity instantly realized why it appeared so tight against the mare’s body. 

            “That’s…that’s not clothing,” she said, looking over the mare’s body. “That’s…” She looked into her mismatched eyes, “you’re enhanced!” 

            “Hmm,” said the mare. “So I see you’re slow too. Yes, Sherlock. I figured that would be obvious because, you know, the robotic body.” 

            “How…how much?” 

            “Do you mean ‘how much of me is still pony’? How much of you is machine?” The mare’s synthetic pupil suddenly dilated far wider than any organic eye should have been able to. The mechanisms inside twisted. “Three filings, an IUD, and an a Chaos regulator. An unusually powerful one, actually…”  

            Rarity gasped and blushed and attempted to cover herself. “Excuse me!” 

            “What? For the Radiation? Come on. It’s not like any of us are going to live long enough to have foals. In fact, you’re actively trying not to. Me, though, I just had that system pulled out. It was strangely similar to the way you pull the cork out of a bottle of wine. Corkscrew and everything…”  

            “Choosing to have yourself enhanced is your own prerogative, but I would appreciate it if you would expect my privacy?” 

            The mare’s eyes narrowed, and she looked to Darknight. He looked back at her, and took another sip of whatever he was drinking. Rarity saw that it was not coffee or tea as she had initially expected; it was in fact a thick white substance that closely resembled glue.  

            “Is this seriously it?” 

            “I’ve confirmed her identity,” said Darknight, shrugging. “She is most definitely Rarity of Ponyville, as the priestess relayed.”  

            “You’ve got to be kidding me,” sighed the mare, turning back to Rarity. 

            “Excuse me?” said Rarity. “I would be terribly appreciative if you would refrain from acting so rude!”  

            “Rude?” The mare stepped toward Rarity, and Rarity took a step back. Almost all of this mare was mechanical, but she moved with surprising speed. “I’m not being rude. I’m being a realist. Tell me, what is it you do?” 

            “I- -I’m a Watcher- -” 

            “Before now, idiot.” 

            “I- -I used to make dresses- -” 

            The mare chuckled humorlessly. “Dresses? You’re a seamstress?” 

            “Well, yes, I was at one point- -” 

            The mare slammed a metallic fist on the table. Darknight lifted his cup just in time to prevent it from spilling, but seemed otherwise disinterested in the exchange. “Do you have any idea who we are? What we do here?” 

            “I am quite aware of my position, and the responsibilities of it, I’ll have you know!” 

            “No, you’re not. We’re soldiers, warriors, murderers, wizards.” She pointed at Darknight. “And things like him. And that’s before we even step into this building. I was slaughtering heretics on the frontier when your grandmother’s grandmother was a thought in some stallion’s crotch!” 

            “There’s no need to be vulgar!” Rarity gestured to herself. “I was clearly chosen for a reason! I may not be experienced in…those things, but I did manage to make this!” 

            “Sure you did,” said the mare as she turned and walked away. “And I have to admit, I didn’t think I’d ever see a suit of mithril mail again. The thing about it is, though…” 

            She suddenly turned and raised her right hoof. The assembly sprung open, revealing the mechanism inside, and several large holes that were pointed toward Rarity. There was a flash of light, and a series of explosions louder than anything Rarity had ever heard. This was followed by motion, and then pain as Rarity fell backward.  

            The blast was incrediably, and unlike anything Rarity had ever been felt. It was like getting hit in the chest with a hammer and feeling her internal parts crack and strain. In the back of her mind, Rarity realized what had happened. She had been shot at point-blank range with an automatic weapon. Her mail, though beautiful, had failed. There was no other explanation for this amount of pain. The bullets must have passed through it, and through her. She had not even reached her first mission, and now she knew that she was dying.  

            She fell to the floor with a thump, gasping and wailing. She clutched at her chest, but doing so did not make the pain stop. Breathing was almost impossible, and it took her a moment to realize that the mithril scales were, in fact, all still intact. This was almost incomprehensible at first, but it slowly dawned on Rarity that the material had indeed stopped the projectiles- -but that their kinetic energy had been transferred regardless, directly into the soft pony body underneath.  

            “See?” said the cybernetic mare, standing over Rarity. “That armor is strong, but the pony inside is a marshmallow. You don’t deserve to wear it.” She returned to her chair and sat back down. “Just go. Turn yourself around and get out while you still can.” 

            Rarity was still gasping and unable to speak. She looked up at Darknight pleadingly, and saw that he was already staring at her. Not with compassion or understanding, though. His expression was one of disgust, and contempt for her weakness. He watched for a moment, and then went back to sipping at his drink. 

            “So,” he said. “I suppose, Sunset, that you believe the Madgod was incorrect in choosing this one?” 

            Sunset turned sharply, both of her eyes narrowing. “I would never doubt the will of Discord. You would not understand the depths of both my love and my hatred toward him. I don’t think a noncan could.” 

            “Likely true,” admitted Darknight. “We are typically not programmed to have the capacity for affection. But it still stands that you consider Rarity of Ponyville unfit for duty as a Watcher, no?” 

            “I do. But you don’t know Discord like I do.” She turned to Rarity, but continued to address Darknight. “Sometimes he chooses them just to watch them die. He finds it funny.”  

            By this time, Rarity had partially regained her ability to breath. She slowly stood up, and realized that there was a growing pool of silver beneath her. The bullets had shattered and blown apart on her mithril exoskeleton, and some of the shrapnel had cut deeply into her neck. She was bleeding, and badly.  

            Still, she ignored it. She instead glared at Sunset. “I’m not sure what, precisely, your problem is,” she said, “apart from terrible taste, what with that horribly tacky jacket. And no, I’m not a soldier, or a fighter. I abhor violence. All I ever wanted to do was make beautiful dresses. But for reasons you couldn’t possibly understand, I’m stuck here.” 

            Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Being a Watcher is one of the greatest honors in all of Equestria.” 

            “Yes. And I’m saying that to me, it’s just a job. To make money for my family. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this. But I’m not leaving. I have reasons, and I don’t care if I have to get dirty or even sweat, by the Madgod I am going to do what I have to!” 

            Sunset stared at her for a moment, then stood up again. She approached Rarity, and spoke in a whisper. 

            “Good,” she said. “Because if you had turned toward that door, I would have blown your head off and you would have joined Golden Harvest in the soylent that Darko over there is drinking right now.” She poked at Rarity’s shoulder, and then went back toward her chair. “My name is Sunset Shimmer,” she said without turning around. “I was once a pupil of Discord himself. And believe me, I ‘understand’ far more than you think I do. Welcome to the team, though.”
> Chapter 4: The Murderer, the Priestess
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity and Darknight walked down the hallway in silence. The wound on Rarity’s neck had stopped bleeding- -largely because of Darknight’s use of first aid, even if that meant painful cauterization- -and she had concealed the bandages beneath a long scarf.  

            “I don’t like her,” she said at last. 

            “Not many ponies do.” 

            “Do you?” 

            “I neither like nor dislike anything.” 

            “That sounds terrible!” 

            Darknight looked confused. “Terrible? I think of it as a preferable state.” 

            “But how could you be passionate about anything?” 

            “I have no desire to be passionate about anything. I exist only to perform a set of tasks, not to make judgement about their value. Even to myself.”  

            Rarity was not entirely sure what that meant.   

            “I was surprised, though,” said Darknight, changing the subject, “that you possess a chaos regulation implant. I was not aware that you had one.” 

            “I do. Is there anything wrong with that?” 

            “No. It is only unusual for somepony of your background.” 

            “Not really,” said Rarity, shrugging. “I assure you, they are quite common in Ponyville.” She paused. “In fact, I’ve never known anypony there without one. I don’t think the town would be habitable otherwise.” 

            “Why?” 

            “Why? Darling, because it’s built on a node of a chaos-line.” 

            Darknight blinked, clearly surprised. “And the town was not relocated when the line was built?” 

            “Oh, no, you misunderstand! The town was settled there BECAUSE of the node. It has an effect on the plants, you see. The first settlers came there for produce of all things. The apples- -if you can call them that- -are quite unique.” 

            “But that proximity to a node would make the area almost uninhabitable.” 

            “It is…difficult,” admitted Rarity. She looked down at the floor as they walked. “And there are costs. My dear mother was taken from me by a chaos anomaly when I was just a filly. My father was so grief stricken, he never remarried.”  

            “The effects of chaos on a pony can be rather gruesome.” Darknight paused, thinking for a moment. “But that saturation with chaos might explain your morphic ability.”  

            “Oh, that’s just a parlor trick,” said Rarity. “Why, when I was still permitted in school I would go every day with a different mane and coat color. I could change myself to match my outfits! But you must see that all the time.”’ 

            “No. It is exceedingly rare. It may be the reason the Madgod chose you for this position, even.” 

            Rarity blinked. “But darling, wouldn’t it be easier just to hire a changeling? I can only change my color, and sometimes my eye shape if I concentrate very hard. They can change their whole bodies. Or so I’ve heard.” 

            “They can. But working with changelings is surprisingly difficult. They are often limited in cognitive capacity, and invariably loyal to Queen Chrysalis. That, and their shapeshifting ability is limited.” 

            “But I’ve heard they can make perfect copies of any pony at all!” 

            “They can,” said Darknight, “and that’s the limitation. Changelings can only copy. They do not have the capacity to create anything unique. No creativity, no inspiration. You can take the shape of ponies who have never existed.” 

            “I’m afraid I don’t really see how that is a benefit.” 

            “I do,” said Darknight, simply. “Although in total it makes you somewhat limited in how you can be deployed. Sunset was correct, you know. You are unusual here in that you lack combat skills of any kind. This puts you in a highly vulnerable situation.”  

            “I’m only vulnerable around stallions that I like.” 

            That statement seemed to have no effect on Darknight, to Rarity’s slight disappointment.  

            Suddenly, a chime rang through the hallways. Darknight looked up, and his horn glowed with a deep navy blue. A magical projection appeared near his head, acting as an interface to the facility’s central systems.  

            “Ah,” he said, sounding somewhat pleased. “Rainbow Dash has just returned from her sabbatical to Griffonstone.” 

            “Rainbow Dash?” 

            “Do you know her?” 

            “No,” said Rarity. She furrowed her brow. “But I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere before. I can’t place it, though…”  

            “If you would like, I can introduce you to her.” 

            Rarity looked up and smiled. “Darling, if it goes anything at all like it did with Sunset, I think you had better be there.”  

  

            The two of them changed course, and Rarity was led to a large circular room. She looked up only to find that she could not see the ceiling overhead. It was an enormous hollow cylinder, lit only by dim lights placed at intervals on one side. The only thing occupying the space were several more of the floating mechanical spheres. Most were floating lazily, but one diverted from the swarm long enough to check Rarity and Darknight. The light turned magenta for Rarity, but rose for Darknight. 

            “Why was it a different color for you?” she asked. 

            “It recognizes me as a noncan.” 

            “Oh. Well, I like your color better. Mine was too…saturated.”   

            “Here she comes,” said Darknight, looking up into the dimly lit channel above. “You might want to stand back.”  

            Rarity did not know what he meant, and she looked up too. His vision must have been unusually good, as she saw nothing- -at first. Then, suddenly, she saw something came falling through the column at immense speed. 

            “Oh my Discord!” cried Rarity as she realized that it was a pony. Before she could say anything else, though, the dropping body reached the floor and twisted, extending a pair of brilliant blue wings. There was a small explosion as she landed, and the gust of air from the sudden brake nearly knocked Rarity over.  

            “I told you to stand back,” said Darknight.  

            “Darkbutt!” cried the pony who had just landed. “You came to greet me! I didn’t know you cared. Did you finally grow a pair and decide to ask me out?”  

            Rarity looked to the pony who had landed. She was, of course, a Pegasus pony. Like all of her kind, she was slightly more diminutive than the other races. Her appearance, though, was anything but ordinary, and Rarity felt herself gawking at her rainbow-colored mane. If it was died that way, it was unbelievably tacky; of course, if it had grown in that way, it was an extremely rare trait. But still tacky.  

            Her clothing did nothing to complement her choice of mane color. The majority of the outfit consisted of an extensive camouflage-patterned cloak. Whatever she was wearing underneath was relatively form-fitting and light, but was “accessorized” with bandoleers and other sorts of ammunition straps. The accessory that caught Rarity’s eye most closely, though, was a necklace. It was large and bulky, and to her horror Rarity realized that the primary “jewel” in its center was in fact the severed horn of a white unicorn. It was flanked by feathers of various colors, small bones, and several hard objects that Rarity could not identify.  

            “I assure you, Rainbow Dash,” said Darknight, still with a completely neutral tone, “I have no interest in you in that sense. You are quite unattractive.”  

            “Says you. I think I look awesome! If I ever found another me? I’d pin her down and spread her wings whether she wants it or not!” Her violet irises slowly drifted from Darknight to Rarity. “And who the buck are you?” she asked. “And why are you so shiny?” 

            It was then that Rarity remembered where she had heard the name “Rainbow Dash” before. A hundred black-and white images seemed to flood back into her memory, and she realized that none of them did justice to the gauche mane that she now saw in full color. “You- -I know you! You used to live in Ponyville!” 

            A spark seemed to flicker in Rainbow Dash’s eyes and she smiled. “Is that where you’re from, cutie? Because you’re right. But the fact that you’re, you know, alive probably means we never met face to face.”  

            “You were the Circuit Strangler!” gasped Rarity, taking a step back. 

            Rainbow Dash laughed. “No, I AM the ‘Circuit Strangler’. Which is a terrible name, because I only strangled like, eleven ponies. I always kind of preferred gutting.” She shrugged. “But three of those were children, so I guess the press really took off with it. Go figure.”  

            “But- -they caught you! And they executed you!” 

            “Clearly not,” noted Darknight.  

            “Yeah, it took them forever. For the longest time they thought I was thirty seven different serial killers. Those unlaw idiots didn’t think a pony could move between those areas so fast. No offense, though.” 

            “I am not capable of being offended,” noted Darknight.  

            “So, yeah,” said Rainbow Dash. “Five hundred and ninety six death-penalty sentences.” 

            “But if you get accepted as a Watcher,” explained Darknight, “your sentences are belayed. Indefinitely, so long as you serve.”   

            Rarity looked at him, and then at Rainbow Dash. She could not believe what she was hearing, or that she was standing in the presence of the most vicious, sadistic serial killer in Equestrian history. It made her sick too look into those strange violet eyes. Instead of seeing the cold emptiness that a pony so horrible should have held, they looked like the eyes of any other pony. SHE looked like any other pony.  

            “So,” said Darknight. “Was your trip to Griffonstone eventful?” 

            “Buck yeah,” said Rainbow Dash, holding up her necklace. Rarity nearly vomited when she realized that the hard things attached to it were griffon beaks. “Actually, check this out!” She reached under her cloak toward a saddlebag, and rarity caught a glimpse of an enormous folded rifle that she was concealing beneath, among several other smaller guns.  

            From the bag, Rainbow Dash produced a small griffon skull. It had already been stripped of flesh, but not yet bleached. There was a narrow bullet hole in one temple.  

            “And who was this?” 

            “Her name was Gabby, apparently,” said Rainbow Dash. “You would not BELIEVE the fight she put up. I mean, she was completely spastic! I had to put one in her gut just to keep her from flitting around. Here’s a picture.” She gave a picture to Darknight, who levitated it in his magic. He showed it to Rarity. It was a picture of a dark colored griffon child standing with what Rarity suspected were her parents. She was smiling broadly and looked so happy.  

            “Yeah, she was still in great condition, though,” said Rainbow Dash, putting the trophy skull back. “I sent her skin off to the taxidermist. You know, the good one out in Vanhoover. I’m going to get her stuffed. I was thinking of having her in a standing position, holding a lantern. Like one of those lawn jockeys.”  

            Rarity nearly fainted at the idea of how tacky that was. “You…you murdered a griffon,” she whispered. 

            “Their griffons,” sneered Rainbow Dash. “It’s called ‘culling’. You know how they breed.” 

            “And…you were sent on a mission to kill children?” 

            Rainbow Dash laughed. “Mission? No, of course not! I was on vacation!” 

            “Vacation?” 

            “Yeah!” Rainbow Dash lowered her head in a parody of a real curtsy. “Introducing Rainbow Dash, the greatest huntsmare to ever live! Specializing in anything that can talk.” She stood up and reached into her bag. She produced several strips of leathery material, and reached out as if to give one to Rarity or Darknight. “Do you want some?” 

            “What…what is it?” 

            “Pure deliciousness! Come on, it’s awesome! I made it myself! Try it! Try it now!” 

            She turned it toward Darknight, and he declined. “I can’t,” he said. “I can only eat soylent. If I eat anything else, I will probably die.” He looked at the snack. “I am curious, though. Is that griffon?” 

            “Eew! Heck no!” said Rainbow Dash, looking disgusted. “I had them vacuum sealed and frozen. I’m not going to waste that much white meat on jerky!” 

            “Jerky?” said Rarity, not knowing what that meant.  

            “Yeah. This was made from genuine pony. Or more specifically pony veal, if you know what I mean.”  

            No pony took it, and Rainbow Dash shrugged. She opened her mouth, revealing the fact that her teeth had been sharpened, and took a bite of the meat, chewing it with great pleasure.  

            Pinkie Pie leaned her head in close to where Rainbow Dash was chewing. “You have to be careful, Dashie!” she said with a giggle. “You are what you eat! And you might get a little…jerky!” 

            All three of the other ponies jumped, with Rarity and Rainbow Dash both crying out in surprise.      “Pinkie!” cried Rainbow Dash, angrily.  

            “I recommend the sweetbreads!” said Pinkie. “That’ll make you sweet! Or it will make you a thymus. One of the two!”  

            Rarity was both flummoxed and confused. She had no idea where Pinkie Pie had come from, or why she suddenly knew the name of a mare that she had never met in her life. Looking at her, though, it became immediately clear. She was dressed in a system of black and blood-red robes that would have been quite revealing had she not been wearing a rather modest garment beneath. Rarity recognized the format instantly, but never thought that she would ever see the vestments of a Priestess of Chaos in person.  

            “Aww,” said Pinkie, bouncing with excessive energy, “no reason to be flummoxed and confused, Rarity! I’m just your friendly neighborhood Pinkie Pie! And I’m not going to take your sweetbreads!” She giggled. “Unless you fall asleep!” She now broke out into complete laughter that did not fit the joke at all. Then, all at once, she stopped. “But seriously. Don’t fall asleep. I will pull pieces out of you.” A wide smile crossed her face. “But that won’t be NEARLY as concerning as the things I put IN to you!” She laughed again. 

            “Oh, Pinkie,” chuckled Rainbow Dash. “You’re so random!”  

            “I am! But that’s what happens when you have a stream of Chaos pouring directly into your brain every second of every day of every month of every years screaming obscenities and cosmic secrets and never once letting you get a moment of sleep or peace or letting you escape the eternal agony of service to the divine Madgod and his eternal will!” She burst out into something that sounded more like screaming than laughter. Then, as quickly as it had come, she paused and turned sharply to Rarity. “I’m Pinkie Pie!” she said cheerfully. “I’m a Watcher, just like you! And her, and him, and the other three.”  

            “Three?” said Rarity. 

            “Twilight Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer very seldom return to headquarters,” said Darknight. “Twilight prefers a minimum of oversight concerning her experimentation.”  

            “Trust me, it’s better that way,” said Rainbow Dash as she pushed past Darknight. “Those two creep me the buck out.”  

            Pinkie Pie giggled. “Yeah, they do.” She bounced after Rainbow Dash, but suddenly stopped. The smile fell from her face, and was replaced by a frown. 

            “Pinkie?” said Rarity. “Is something the matter?” 

            “I feel…strange.”  

            Then, suddenly, the entire room seemed to rock. Rarity cried out in pain as her vision swam and the room seemed to be consumed with bizarre and sickening colors. She immediately vomited, and as she did she saw Darknight stumbling as well, reaching for his horn. That was where the pain was focused, boring into each of their brains. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, meanwhile, seemed entirely unaffected. 

            “Whoa, crap!” cried Rainbow Dash. “Dark, what’s wrong?” 

            Darknight did not answer. Rarity could understand why. If he was experiencing anything like what she was, he would have been far too addled to create actual words.  

            Then in stopped. As quickly as it had come, it vanished, and Rarity gasped. There were no clear after effects, although she was left lying on the ground. She stood up, feeling just as she had before the sudden sickness had begun. Darknight, meanwhile, had managed to remain standing and righted himself. He looked just as confused as Rarity felt.   

            “What in the name of cotton twill was that?” asked Rarity. “A chaos storm?” 

            “There are no chaos storms in Discordalot,” said Darknight, opening an interface that floated in front of his face. “Reports are coming in. That was a class seven magical anomaly.” 

            “Which means what, exactly?” asked Rainbow Dash.  

            “I don’t know, I need more time and readings to validate- -” 

            “No, NO!” cried Pinkie Pie suddenly. Her eyes had become wild as she stared into what seemed like empty space. She suddenly started to run. “Please, wait, I’m not ready! Please- -” Her begging was punctuated with a scream so horrible that it made Rarity’s entire coat stand on end.  

            Pinkie Pie suddenly collapsed. Still screaming, she began to writhe on the floor in agony.  

            “Pinkie!” cried Rarity, racing to her side. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?!”  

            Pinkie did not respond. Her eyes seemed to be bugging out of her head, and as Rarity tried to help her the screams were suddenly replaced with gurgling and a plume of deep red blood from her mouth. Rarity turned to Darknight and Rainbow Dash, who had slowly approached, but they were not moving to help at all. Darknight was watching with complete disinterest, and Rainbow Dash was smiling as though this were hilarious.  

            “We have to help her!” cried Rarity. “Pinkie, it’s going to be okay! Please, Darknight, we have to- -” 

            Pinkie Pie’s body suddenly tensed, her back arcing and her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. Her face was frozen in a silent scream, her expression relaying the unimaginable pain she was in. Then she went limp and dropped into the pool of blood that had formed below her.  

            “P…Pinkie?” said Rarity. She poked the mare. “Pinkie!” She turned to Darknight. “She’s- -she’s not- -she can’t be- -” 

            “Can’t be what?” said a voice. Rarity jumped at the sound of a strange and unfamiliar male voice, and then gasped in horror as Pinkie Pie sat up as if pulled by some external force. Her eyes, formerly so pretty and blue, were now deep red. “Can’t be strawberry flavored? Because I assure you, she is. Talk to her later. She might let you check.”  

            Pinkie Pie’s lips were moving, but it was not her voice that was coming out. Utterly confused by this, Rarity barely noticed as Darknight and Rainbow Dash bowed.  

            “My liege,” said Darknight. “We are honored by your presence.” He looked up toward Rarity, and then forced her head down with his magic. “Show some respect, Watcher Rarity. You are addressing your immortal master through the body of a divine priestess.” 

            “Di…Discord?” said Rarity. 

            “In the flesh!” he laughed. “Well, not my flesh. Somepony else’s flesh.” He looked at his body. “Oh my. And a lot of flesh there is. I suppose that’s why the food budget for my priestesses has been so high.” He wiped Pinkie Pie’s face with her hoof, taking it away to realize that she was bleeding badly from her eyes. “Oops,” he said. “I can’t stay long. I’m burning this one out. Can’t have that, now can we? Although I’m sure the soylent from this one would be delicious. And enough to feed an entire army. Oh wait, MY army! I forgot I had one. Or two. Or several.”  

            “We await your orders, Madgod,” said Darknight. 

            “Oh, yes! I’m sure you just felt that surge a few moments ago?” 

            “I didn’t,” said Rainbow Dash. 

            “Of course not, dear Strangler. You’re not a unicorn! Despite being the horniest pony here!” 

            Rainbow Dash chuckled.   

            “We suspected it might be you,” said Darknight. 

            “I’m afraid not. In fact, I was in the bath, and the surge made me so disoriented that I accidentally turned my soap into a series of tiny llamas. It’s going to take all day to have them chased down. But that’s what servants are for. Apart from doing windows, of course.” He paused, lifting Pinkie’s hoof to her face again. It was apparent that Pinkie was shaking badly as her body began to fail and die. “Now what was I talking about? Oh yes! Don’t bother triangulating, it came from the Floater district. I want you to investigate. It shouldn’t be too hard.” He turned to Rarity. “Take her with you. It will be good for her. And by the way, Miss Rarity, welcome to the Watchers. I have high hopes for you.” 

            “Th…thank you.” 

            “Your very welcome! But now, if you will excuse me, my very bestest priestess’s heart just stopped. So I need to go. Toodles!”  

            Pinkie Pie suddenly spasmed and fell back onto the floor. She was still for a moment that felt like an eternity, and then she coughed and sputtered before curling into a fetal position in the puddle of blood below her. She started weeping quietly. 

            “Is she…is she going to be okay?” asked Rarity. 

            “It is the nature of Chaos,” said Darknight. “The wounds will always heal.” He paused. “The physical ones, anyway.”  

            The sound from Pinkie Pie rose, and Rarity realized that it was not weeping at all. Despite the tears of pain streaming down her face, she was laughing.   e
> Chapter 5: The Alchemist, the Shell
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The feeling started as a vibration, and continued that way at a growing intensity. Though Rarity cried out and held onto the floor, she felt it swept from beneath her. She expected the shaking and oscillation to rise to a grand crescendo, but instead it continued, growing deeper and stronger until she lost all sense of direction and orientation. 

            There was a flash of something- -blackness, not light- -and in that tiny frame of time Rarity felt herself go somewhere else- -or cease to be entirely. Then, as quickly as it came, she was suddenly wrenched out of the resonance and dropped onto the cold stone below.   

            The ritual had not been kind. She tilted her head and vomited. A surprising amount of blood came out along with what little food she had been permitted to eat.  

            “Ow,” she said. “My fillings!”  

            “Yeah,” said Sunset, stepping out of the double-arching structure overhead. She had changed clothing, and was now dressed in a heavy mechsuit that obscured the robotics that made up her normal body. The helmet that covered what little skin she had gave her voice some slight electronic distortion. “You’re lucky they didn’t trade places with your IUD.” 

            “I think they did. At least for a little bit.” 

            “Well imagine trying to go through that with a body made entirely out of metal.”  

            “Don’t worry!” giggled Pinkie Pie, bouncing jauntily beside Darknight as Rainbow Dash trailed behind. “You get used to it! Or your bits change places with, well, your other bits, and you end up not caring! You win either way!”  

            None of them helped Rarity up, so she stood with some difficulty. Her entire body felt numb and was still shaking. None of the others, though, seemed to be affected by the jump. 

            “Do you do this every time you want to go somewhere?” asked Rarity. 

            “No,” said Darknight. “Rainbow Dash is capable of sustained supersonic flight. She can be deployed anywhere in mainland Equestria within a matter of hours. She’s just lazy.” 

            “Hey! It’s not my fault I missed my mid-midday nap! Now I’m going to have wait all the way until the mid-afternoon nap! Or even the early-evening nap, if this takes too long. I get tired being awesome.”  

            “You didn’t even need to come,” said Sunset. “We don’t need five Watchers. Or four and a half, as the case may be.”  

            “And miss a trip to the floater district? Heck no. Besides, I know this mare out on the north end. Ugly face, but a great flank. And she’s on my list.” 

            “The murder list or the other one?” asked Pinkie Pie. 

            Rainbow Dash considered for a moment, and then pulled out a literal list. “Let’s see…Cherry Jubilee…ah. Both.” 

            “As I was saying,” said Darknight, “Rainbow Dash can get to places when she needs to. Twilight and Starlight can both teleport.”  

            “But a word of advice,” said Sunset, “don’t travel with Starlight. Not if you have any organs you want to keep. She doesn’t bother with any dimensional shielding. You’ll come out well-done.” 

            “It smells realllll nice,” said Rainbow Dash with a sigh. “Although I prefer them rare.”  

            “But Rarity’s already rare!” said Pinkie Pie. “She’s a white unicorn! And also currently uncooked.”  

            “The rest of us  use chaos tunneling,” said Darknight, completely ignoring the others. “They will get you wherever you need to go. Usually.” 

            “Usually?” asked Rarity.  

            “Usually. Yes. There’s a reason you’ve never used one before.” 

            “Which is?” 

            “They are almost invariably lethal. The only way to survive is to either be in the presence of a Priestess of Chaos or a Stonie series noncan with a class eight processing enhancement or greater. You can borrow one from the unlaw if you need to.”  

            “And if I don’t take one with me?” 

            “Then you go through Chaos unguided. I don’t think it’s appropriate to describe what will happen to you.” 

            “Yeah!” said Pinkie Pie, putting her face close to Rarity’s. “I’ve seen it! It’s super-gross! You can come out with your insides on your outsides, or your legs on the wrong side, or a hat, or fifty years in the past- -or the FUTURE! Sometimes ponies come out insane, or as a thin oily film, or preggers, or not at all! One donkey even came out…BALD!”  

            Rarity gasped. “Not BALD!” She swooned and nearly fainted.  

            “Hence the ‘not explaining it’ part,” reiterated Darknight. He started walking off the teleportation platform, and Sunset joined him.  

            “Mare’s first, darling,” said Rarity, gesturing to the two others.  

            “I’d rather take up the rear,” said Rainbow Dash, slapping Rarity’s rump and causing her to release a horse sound.  

            “Why, I never!” 

            “Heh heh! Then Cherry Jubilee won’t be the only thing I’m popping tonight!” 

            “Dashie,” sighed Pinkie. “Come on, now! You know how my sister feels about you flirting with other mares! Besides, Rarity likes colts.” 

            “I don’t like this conversation,” admitted Rarity. “It’s making me uncomfortable.”  

            “I had a sweater like that once,” said Pinkie Pie as she bounced forward. “But then I ate it. It tasted bad. And I had to go to the hospital. I died, for like, five minutes. And it didn’t even make me sweat!”  

            Rarity did not know what to make of that at all, but hesitantly followed Pinkie, feeling Rainbow Dash’ staring at her most tender of meats for the entire duration, even if they were covered in blast-proof fabric and a semi-skirt of mithril.  

            The teleportation structure was small and built in a larger tower that was open to the outdoors. When they stepped outside, Rarity shielded her eyes and automatically darkened her irises to protect against the suns’ rays.  

            The sky on this particular day was a brilliant lime green, with thick red stripes in the eastern sky. Several of the variously colored suns had been raised, and a few of the smaller ones were chasing each other around the larger. The moon, as always, sat in the exact center of the sky. Rarity looked up at it and realized that the view was actually quite good; she was able to see the outlines of craters that formed the profiles of two mares.  

            “So pretty!” cried Pinkie Pie. “I threw up these colors a few days ago! They were so pretty then too that I ate them again! That was a mistake, though, they weren’t as pretty the third time. Or the forth.”  

            “How about the fifth?” called Rainbow Dash. 

            “Fifth was…meh.”  

            Rarity mostly ignored them. Instead, her nose was turned to the air. It smelled strange, with an odor that was infinitely familiar to her but at the same time completely indescribable. Had she been asked, the best approximation she could think of would have been the scent of something electrical combined with many candles burning. It was the smell that always came before the Chaos storms that ravaged Ponyville, as well as most of Equestria. Except here it was far stronger than even the worst tempests that she could recall in recent memory.  

            “I don’t mean to appear unworldly,” said Rarity, “although in all honesty I do believe I am. But, where, pray tell, are we?”  

            “Take a look,” said Sunset, pointing down.  

            Rarity looked down and screamed. She jumped back several feet, forcing Rainbow Dash to dodge- -although not before copping a flank-feel. Rarity hardly noticed. The rocky moss-covered ground that she had been ambling across had suddenly and inexplicably ended. If she had not stopped then and there, she would have gone over the edge and plummeted down a cliff.  

            She took a step closer again and looked down, and to her horror realized that it was not even a proper cliff at all. Yes, there was a rocky precipice, but it only went down a few hundred feet before terminating- -even though the ground was still thousands of feet farther down.  

            Rarity slowly looked out and gasped at the sight before her. In its own way, it was stunning- -but clearly as hazardous as it was beautiful. The group was standing on the smallest of a number of floating chunks of rock. Many of them were as large as small oceanic islands, complete with forests or structures. Enormous Chaos pipelines ran past some of them, linking them to each other and to the craterous ground far below. All of them seemed to be orbiting an area that appeared at the very edge of the horizon: an impossibly massive calendar of bright, shifting light and blasts of energy that could be heard like thunder in the far distance.  

            “What…what is that?” 

            “The Cataclysm,” said Dark Night. “Pray to the Madgod he never forces you into it. But it is not our concern right now.” He projected a construct over one of his eyes, and text scrolled by. He scanned the sky, and then pointed. “That island there. That one is the center of the magical disturbance.” 

            “Alright,” said Rainbow Dash. “Finally, we’re getting somewhere. And it’s on my way, too!” She spread her wings. “Maybe I will be able to get my nap!”  

            With a sudden blast and a rainbow-colored contrail, she vanished. Rarity blinked and coughed against the dust, and looked up in time to see a tiny blue dot arcing toward the distant floating island.  

            “I’ll meet you there,” said Sunset. The outer surface of  her mech armor shifted, opening a set of baffles on the sides, and Rarity barely managed to jump out of the way in time to avoid a jet of blue flame as Sunset slowly lifted off the ground and as her machinery propelled her through the air.  

            “Not if I get there first!” cried Pinkie Pie. She raced toward the edge and leapt- -only to plummet straight down. 

            “Pinkie!” cried Rarity, rushing toward the edge.  

            Darknight stopped her. “Let her go,” he said. “It’s just how she does things.”  

            They both watched her fall until she was out of sight, hearing only the sound of an ever-fading “Weeeeeee!” as she went.  

            “So,” said Darknight after what felt like several minutes. “Can you morph a pair of wings.” 

            “No. It’s just color changes. I don’t even know any flight spells!” 

            “Then how about we take the stairs?” 

            He gestured out over the drop, and Rarity watched as his horn glowed and several perfect plates of magically constructed hard-light appeared before them, generating the start of a staircase.  

            “I- -I have to climb on that?” 

            “Unless you want to try to go the way Pinkie Pie went. But I don’t think you’ll be as successful.”  

            “But…” 

            “I won’t drop you,” she said, meeting her nervous eyes. “You will die as a Watcher. But it will be by your own failure. I promise that. And although you may not realize it, the promise of a noncan is rarely given lightly.”  

            He hopped out over the edge and onto one of the constructs. He then hopped to the next, and the one after that. Rarity hesitated, but then took a deep breath. This was going to be the least of her challenges, after all. She jumped, and followed him.  

            The going was not easy. Darknight moved quickly and without tiring. He seemed to have almost superequestrian endurance. Rarity, meanwhile, did not. She would have slowed to a trot, but if she allowed Darknight to get ahead, the constructs behind her would start to fade more quickly. She was forced to keep pace or risk falling to her demise.  

            When she did finally reach the top, she was both sweaty- -itself a horrible state- -and winded. She collapsed into the manicured moss, gasping.  

            “Why did- -you have- -to go- -so fast!” she wheezed. 

            “Because you do indeed have the muscular consistency of a marshmallow, and I don’t want the soylent I make out of you to taste like mayonnaise. Consider this a fitness exercise.”  

            “You don’t have to be so mean, Darknight,” said a voice that Rarity did not recognize. “Not all of us were manufactured to perfect physical specifications, you know.”  

            Rarity looked up. She saw the others- -minus Pinkie Pie, who she suspected was probably a bloody smear by this point- -but also noticed two other mares standing not far from her. The closest one- -the one who had spoken- -was a deep violet unicorn. She wore a silver-rimmed hood, signifying her identity as a mage, and had long bicolored bangs. Her shoulders were covered in something similar to a short cape or a shawl, but her overall body was covered in a rather conservative outfit that seemed to focus on pockets more than any sort of armor. Although she wore high boots that left her knees to shoulders exposed, her front left foreleg was completely covered with no flesh visible. 

            The other mare could not have been dressed more differently. She was almost completely naked, with her entire light-violet self exposed save for her neck. That, as well as parts of her shoulders, was covered with a heavy collar with a large blue gem placed in the center. This mare, like the first, appeared to have bicolor hair- -or would have, had it not been shorn to a length of barely millimeters. In the light of the multiple suns, Rarity could see the remains of precise surgical scars across various portions of her skull and near her horn. Even stranger was this mare’s eyes. She seemed to be looking in Rarity’s general direction, but her gaze was distant and blank. Her mouth was partially open, and a thin line of drool was dripping from one side.  

            “Now we certainly have too many Watchers,” said Darknight. “I assume Pinkie Pie contacted you?” 

            There was an approaching sound of a long “Weeeeee!”, and Rarity watched as Pinkie Pie plummeted from the sky above and landed on the rocky soil with a sickening thump.  

            “Nope,” she said, sitting up and brushing herself off. “Wasn’t me.” 

            “How did you- -when did you- -but that was lower, and now- -” Rarity sputtered, confused 

            “Don’t overthink it,” said Sunset. “In fact, doing that can literally make your brain come out. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”  

            “I didn’t need to be told,” said the mage-unicorn. “I sensed the blast. Half my instruments were damaged before I could seal the breakers, and it took twenty minutes to get Starlight to stop screaming. Did you really think I wouldn’t be investigating?”  

            “I don’t know if we need to all be here.” 

            “Seriously? You have no idea the implications of what just happened! The magnitude, the vectors! Something that powerful, the implications- -” She stopped and then sighed. “But why am I explaining this to a robot? You don’t care.” 

            “Not about the specifics,” admitted Darknight. “Only the implications, and the cause.” 

            “That’s the problem with noncans. No creativity, no inspiration.” She turned toward Rarity. 

            “Hello,” said Rarity, “I’m- -” 

            “Rarity, I know. There was a memo. I read it. New Watcher, morphic mutant, from Ponyville. No combat experience, probably going to die, skin valuable for research.” 

            “Skin? What do you- -” 

            “Yes. You won’t mind if I take it. When you die. Probably.”  

            “I think I might- -” 

            “No. I already claimed it. It’s mine now. Also, I’ll be taking your horn. And…your eyes. I want those too. Darknight, you can have the rest.”  

            “She has a chaos management implant,” noted Darknight. 

            “Don’t care. Mine are better. All six of them. So are Starlight’s.” 

            “This is Twilight Sparkle,” said Sunset. “In case you didn’t know.”  

            “Oh,” said Rarity. “Darknight mentioned you. I’m very pleased to meet you.” 

            “Don’t care. Do you moisturize? You should. Got to keep that morphic skin supple. I wonder if I could make a cloak out of it?”  

            Rarity shivered. She turned to the other unicorn, and approached her. “And you must be Starlight Glimmer. I’m Rarity of Ponyville. Charmed, I’m sure!” 

            She held out her hoof, and Starlight looked at it- -or nearly at it. She did not react immediately, though, and after a few seconds opened her mouth and released a horrible sound.  

            “Aahh! Ahhk- -ahhhhh!” she shouted, sending a small spray of spittle toward Rarity.  

            “Yes,” said Darknight, ushering Rarity past Starlight. “She is not able to talk. It is best if you avoid speaking to her. Or standing too near her.”  

            As Rarity was led away, a rainbow contrail appeared and Rainbow Dash dropped to the ground.  

            “Dashie!” said Pinkie Pie, jumping over. “You’re here!” 

            “Yeah, I know,” said Rainbow Dash. “While we were waiting for the slowpoke and the slowpokier, I went and dealth with Cherry Jubilee.” 

            “I can tell,” said Pinkie Pie, pointing at her own face. Rainbow Dash looked down to see a large amount of red liquid smeared on the side of her face.  

            “What- -what is that?” asked Rarity. 

            “It’s ‘cherry juice’,” chuckled Rainbow Dash, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “I stripped her cutie mark, too, if Starlight wants it.” 

            Starlight seemed to recognize her name, and she smiled. “Ahhh! Eghhe!” 

            “Later,” said Twilight, causing Starlight to frown. “First the job.”   "�|�E
> Chapter 6: Corporation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moss and lichen eventually gave way to, of all things, grass. That in itself was quite ordinary- -Rarity was familiar with grass, although the kind that did not glow in the dark or eat passing birds was seldom observed near Ponyville- -but to see it in a place such as this strange floating island felt strange. Even stranger was when Rarity became conscious of the fact that this was not a natural formation. The trees and grass had quite clearly been planted there.

            Then, suddenly, they came to a path of large, laser-cut cobblestones.

            “This…this is an industrial park,” said Rarity.

            “That was supposed to be obvious,” said Sunset.

            “Yes,” said Darknight. “The facility we are looking called is called RD Heavy Industries.”

            “Ha! It’s named after me!” said Rainbow Dash, who was flapping through the trees overhead.

            “It isn’t named after you,” said Sunset. “It stands for ‘Research and Development’.”

            “Out in the Floater District?” mused Twilight. “There are a lot of things to research out here. None of them good. This does not bode well.”

            “Not to mention the name is terribly generic,” suggested Rarity. “It’s just so…bland.”

            “Hey! I’m not bland!”

            “Yeah!” said Pinkie Pie. “She tastes like skittles!”

            “Ugh,” said Sunset, rubbing the spot where a horn should have been. “My brain is encased in a titanium shell, and you two are STILL giving me a headache. Why can’t you be like Starlight?”

            “Mainly because Twilight hasn’t had her way with us yet. Well, maybe Rainbow Dash.”

            “I’m going to scout east,” said Sunset. “Dash, can you handle west?”

            “They’ll never see me coming.”

            Without any further words, the pair of them moved off and disappeared. Despite the weight of her metallic body as well as her heavy armor, Sunset became oddly quiet as she disappeared into the gardens and artificially manicured trees.

            Darknight and Pinkie also split from the group, although they did not move out of sight. They instead took the front, leaving Rarity alone with Twilight and Starlight. This eliminated virtually all conversation. Rarity was not sure why exactly she felt so uncomfortable around Twilight, but she could not shake the feeling that the mare was watching her, as if expecting something.

            They came to a turn in the path near the end of the island, and Rarity paused for a moment to take in the breathtaking view. Due to the position of the rock, the enormous vortex in the distance- -the Cataclysm, as Darknight had called it- -stood directly in the focal point of the panorama.

            “Beautiful, isn’t it?” said Twilight.

            “I would call it impressive,” said Rarity, “but not beautiful by any means.”

            “But that level of power. If even a fraction of it could be redirected…a tenth of a percent…it could vaporize entire cities.”

            “Why in Equestria would you want to vaporize cities?”

            “I wouldn’t, of course. It would just be to prove that I can.”

            Rarity shivered. “What is it?”

            “An explosion. More or less. Trapped in time, occurring in the past, present, and future. It was, is, and will be that blast that did all this.” She gestured to the floating islands. “You can probably see it. This whole area is a blast radius.”

            “From what?”

            Twilight smiled. “Very few ponies know.”

            “But you do.”

            Twilight smiled even wider. “Only through careful study of thousands upon thousands of historical texts and artifacts, but, yes, if only partially. This area was where the Last Battle of the Last War was fought.”

            “War? What war?”

            “The Last War. Before war became eternal to ensure peace. They say that in ancient times, Equestria was ruled by a pair of mutant tyrants. Discord rose up against their rules and law, and brought freedom to the ponies of Equestria.” She pointed upward at the moon. “They say he imprisoned them up there. But I doubt that. Most likely he just killed them.” She shrugged. “It’s what I would have done.”

            “Tyrants…” Rarity had never heard of that story before, except perhaps in the most tangential legends that had been whispered to her in the days before she could remember.

            “Stop challenging the orthodoxy and hurry up!” called Pinkie Pie. “Or I’ll have to throw you off this rock! Or ON to this rock! One of the two!”

            A glimmer of anger passed through Twilight’s eyes, but she did as was recommended to her. Rarity, likewise, managed to pull herself away from the view and continue on. It was only a few minutes past that point that she saw the beginnings of a large building over the treetops: a large industrial office building, built of concrete without any windows. It looked as unpleasant and boring as its name.

            Before the group crested a hill, though, Sunset silently remerged from the border, followed closely by Rainbow Dash who was just putting away her foldable rifle.

            “It isn’t good,” said Sunset.

            “Fallout?” asked Darknight.

            “No. Worse. The Consort Guard is here.”

            Rarity did not know what that meant, exactly. She recognized the name, but did not understand its meaning in this context. The Consort Guard were supposedly the personal military forces of the Queen of Equestria. What they would be doing here, though, was a mystery.

            “Oh,” said Pinkie Pie, her expression falling. “I don’t like them. Not at all. They’re no fun.”

            “No kidding,” grumbled Sunset.

            “So I’m going to go now.” She turned and waved to everypony. “Bye now! I’ll be back soon! Don’t forget to write!”

            “Pinkie!” said Rarity, not understanding what was going on. “You don’t have to leave just because- -”

            She was stopped as she saw Pinkie’s body suddenly shudder. Her head shot back as though she were having a seizure, and she nearly fell. Just as she tipped, though, she suddenly righted herself- -and the pony that now stood before them looked completely different.

            She was like Pinkie- -as in, her face was largely the same- -but her color seemed darker. Her smile had been replaced with a frown, and her formerly bouncy and curly hair had become perfectly straight.

            “Ugh,” she said. “Where am I?”

            “Sup’ Pinkamena,” said Rainbow Dash.

            Pinkie Pie- -or Pinkamena- -looked up, and although the stern expression on her face remained, it softened slightly. “Rainbow Dash,” she said. “You look as fat and ugly as ever.”

            “You’re one to talk. You really need to get your sister to lay off the sweets.”

            The two leaned toward each other, taking each other under one hoof and kissing each other on the lips.

            “It’s good to see you, though,” said Pinkamena. She turned around, and her eyes fell on Rarity. “And who are you?”

            “Pinkie, it’s me,” said Rarity. “We just met.”

            “I’m not Pinkie,” said Pinkamena, getting slightly angry. She then took a breath and sighed. “But I understand the confusion. Don’t make it again, or I will break one of your knees.”

            “She will, too,” noted Rainbow Dash. “It’s super hot.”

            “Don’t interrupt me, Dash.” Pinkamena paused. “Great. So, Consort Guard?”

            “Yeah,” said Sunset.

            Pinkamena let out a long sigh. “Of course. She leaves this crap to me. But it’s better that way, she sucks at dealing with stuff like that.” She turned to the others. “Alright. Sunset and I take point. It’s a matter of influence. We’re the least likely to get attacked, and I’m immortal, so…”

            “The Consort Guard is not going to attack us,” said Twilight, attempting to push past Sunset. Sunset shoved her back.

            “Sweet Disocrd’s tailfeathers, Twilight, could you for just this once do what I’m telling you?”

            Twilight frowned, but did seem to acquiesce. “Fine,” she said. “But just one of them is worth his weight in arsenide. If it goes south, I will harvest.”

            “It won’t go south,” said Sunset. “Right, Pinkamena?”

            Pinkamena did not reply, but advanced with Sunset. As they did, Rarity leaned close to Twilight.

            “What…just happened to Pinkie?”

            “She has a direct link to Discord’s Chaos in her brain,” said Twilight. “Did you really expect her mind to stay in one piece? We’re lucky she’s not just a screaming wreck like the rest of them.”

            The group continued forward. When they crested a small hill, it became apparent what Sunset had meant. The area was already swarmed with ponies. As they drew closer to the perimeter of the main building, though, Rarity saw those “ponies” grow clearer and clearer- -and as she did, she realized that something was horribly wrong.

            There appeared to be two main kinds of unit. One was a pony, or at least superficially so. They were far larger than any type of pony that Rarity had ever encountered, though; they were at least four times taller, and far more muscular. Their bodies were completely covered in pitted metal; even their faces were covered completely in gas-processing masks that allowed them to breathe the Equestrian atmosphere.

            Surrounding them were what could only be described as abominations. They looked as though they had once been animals, but had since been torn apart and reconfigured into atrocities that dwarfed even their gigantic masters. They were lanky and gray, with feathers or hair in seemingly random parts of their body and surgical marks from where torsos and limbs had been connected and recombined on the rest. Their faces- -if they could even be considered to have any semblance of a sane face- -consisted largely of a single enormous, glistening golden eye.

            “What…what are they?” whispered Rarity, pulling herself close to Darknight.

            “An inconvenience,” muttered Sunset in reply.

            As the group approached, the gas-masked soldiers reacted. Some of them converged, their glass-covered eyes glistening in the light of several suns. They had more than two. They seemed mostly unable to communicate, though, as the only sound they seemed to be able to produce was a horrible combination of wheezing and gurgling.

            Then, from the crowd, a pony emerged. Rarity was happy to see a real, ordinary pony- -at first. Like the others, though, when he drew closer she began to realize that he was anything but a sane, living being. His armor appeared to be made of some sort of bone, and it was twisted and warped. His skin was gray and taught against his face, and his eyes were cloudy and empty. The strong scent of formaldehyde as he approached confirmed what Rarity had already expected: he was a rebodied soul.

            “Watchers,” he said with a gruff but strangely quiet voice. “You need not be here.”

            “We are investigating a magical anomaly,” said Sunset.

            “Under the direct orders of the Madgod Discord,” added Pinkamena.

            “That will not be necessary,” said the commander. “We have already begun the investigation in the name of the Holy Daughter. You need not be here.”

            “Since when is investigating anomalies the Consort Guard’s jurisdiction?”

            “Our behavior and actions reflect the will of the Holy Daughter. She grew concerned when the anomaly, as you describe it, impacted her subjects. We were dispatched to find the source, and we have.”

            “Then you wouldn’t mind showing us,” said Pinkamena.

            “Yes, we would. The investigation is concluding as we speak.”

            “And what happened?”

            “We have no need to discuss that with the likes of you.”

            “The likes of us!” said Rainbow Dash, angrily stepping forward. “Do you have any idea who you are?”

            The rebody looked toward her. His body remained perfectly still, but his eyes moved with an audible sound. “Yes. I do. We do. You are tools used to maintain political status quo. Or the inverse, as the case may be. Such things do not concern our kind.”

            “Who are you calling a tool?!”
            “Rainbow Dash, shut your hole,” hissed Pinkamena. “Or I will come and shut it for you!”

            “You know,” said Twilight, grinning. “The phylactery that keeps you trapped in that body is worth billions on the open market. I think I could put it to good use.”

            The rebody sighed- -a horrid sound indeed. “A unicorn. Of course. Now you are threatening me. With what, a minor inconvenience? When I was alive, I would slay your kind like rabid dogs in the name of Sombra. Before the Allmother showed me the Truth, of course.”

            “I don’t need to know your life story,” said Rainbow Dash.

            “No. Nor would you survive if I told it to you. Her glory is something that must be experienced…firsthoof. But that does not change the fact that I am not going to let you through.”

            “Are you going to try to stop us?” said Sunset, taking a step forward.

            Several of the gas-mask units stepped forward as well. Even as armored as Sunset was, they towered over her.

            “There is only one among you who would be a real threat,” said the commander. “And I had hoped that you would have more political tact than to challenge the will of the Queen.”

            “Well, then,” said Twilight, stepping forward. “How about this, then?”

            She grabbed Rarity- -who had been hiding behind Darknight and Pinkamena- -and shoved her forward. Rarity let out a distinct “eep” as she looked up into the face of the revenant standing before her. To her surprise, though, the commander jumped back in surprise, as did his soldiers. Even the abominations that had begun to circle looked hesitant.

            “That’s right,” said Twilight. “A pure, white unicorn! If I recall correctly- -and I always recall correctly- -these are sacred to you, aren’t they?”

            “They are,” said the commander, slowly glaring at Twilight. “They are most desired by the Allmother. That you would use such a pure creature to bargain is beyond disgraceful.”

            “You…you think I’m pure?” asked Rarity.

            “Yes. Because you are. It is the Allmother’s greatest desire that your soul fall to Tartarus, corrupted and lost, to be tortured for eternity. Your beauty almost makes us weep.”

            Rarity had no idea how to feel about that statement, but Twilight pressed on. “You would have to do what she says, though, right?”

            There was a loud gurgling from the soldiers, and the commander’s dead eyes suddenly narrowed. “Yes,” he said, slowly. “We would be willing to accept a request from a Sacred One. But only if she herself makes it.”

            Twilight looked to Rarity, and then Rarity to the commander.

            “I don’t know if I can do that,” said Rarity.

            “What?!” cried Twilight.

            “Well, it’s just that…this is my very first mission. And while I certainly would like to do it properly, I just can’t ask you to do something that would jeopardize your own job. I really would like to help you investigate, if I can, as we all would I’m sure, but I could never force a pony to do something he or she doesn’t want to do. Especially if it would hurt you in some way.”

            The commander stared at her for a long moment. “You…you would show me kindness, even though I am dead?”

            “Darling, I could hardly tell,” said Rarity. “You are a bit pale, but that’s in fashion these days. I was sure you were alive!”

            The commander stared for a moment longer, and then smiled- -itself a grotesque sight. “Then I suppose I acquiesce of my own free will. But I do have a condition.” He pointed to Twilight. “She may not approach. The mark she bears designates her as our eternal enemy. For the sake of the Sacred One, we will not attempt to tear the offending limb from her frame. But she must say outside.”

            “Like you even could,” growled Twilight. “Do you have any idea who I am? I will go where I please- -”

            “I think it would be better if you helped me secure the perimeter,” said Sunset, nearly dragging her away. “Take some readings, maybe?”

            “Readings?”

            “Yeah. Let the others go ahead inside. We have work to do out here.”

            “Starlight!” called Twilight as she was pushed away. “Go with them! If anything goes wrong, kill them all!”

            Rarity watched them go, and then turned to the rebody.

            “What is your name, Sacred One?” he asked.

            “Rarity. And what is yours?”

            “A name is a very dangerous thing to have for my kind. As such, I have none.” He turned around, and his soldiers stepped out of his path. “This way, if you please.”

            Rarity looked to the others, and Darknight gestured to follow. “You are best suited to take the lead now,” he said. “Although in all honesty it was a terrible mistake to tell him your real name.”

            “I thought ‘Rarity’ was a pseudonym,” said Pinkamena. “Because it’s a crap name otherwise.”

            “Says a filly named ‘Pinkamena Diane’,” pointed out Rainbow Dash.

            “My parents were rock cultists. They are not known for intelligence.”

            Rarity ignored them as best as she could and followed after the rebody. He lead her toward the front entrance of the structure, and then inside to a front lobby. Just as Rarity had feared, the inside was as drab and unpleasant as the outside. Everything was practical to the point of banality, with the walls and columns themselves being made of smooth but otherwise unpainted concrete. It was aesthetically unique, but not at all pleasant to look at.

            “My this place is unpleasant,” said Rarity.

            “I agree,” said the rebody. “The very epitome of atheism embodied by architecture.”

            “Ugh,” said Rainbow Dash from behind. “I didn’t come here to listen to a liberal arts lecture.”

            “She is not incorrect,” said Darknight. “We are far more interested in the cause of the event.”

            “Of this, we have no insight,” replied the rebody. “Our mission was simply to ensure safety, and that the incident will not be repeated. We have come to the conclusion that it shall not, and that there is no lasting damage. Hence, the closing of the investigation.”

            “I don’t mean to be critical,” said Rarity, “but wouldn’t that require knowing what made the anomaly in the first place?”

            “No. The event was scientific in origin. Such a domain is beyond our depth. We are creatures of magic and unholy glory. The specifics of the spiritual void that you call science do not concern us.”

            “Science?” said Rarity, turning to Darknight. His construct shifted, displaying tiny text near his eyes.

            “Yes,” he said. “RD Corporation focuses on cutting-edge scientific endeavors. Their focus is eclectic. High-end weapons, biologic enhancements, an impressive portfolio of polymer and alloy research, advanced cybernetics, mining, and so on. They even manufacture the Stonie series of noncans.”

            “Stonie?” asked Rarity. “You mentioned them before.”

            “Yes. They are a very expensive type with factory-installed enhancements. You’ve probably seen them in the Unlaw Centre’s main floor. They’re gray and look female. Their primary purpose is as mobile processing units.”

            “Indeed,” said the rebody. “They are horrible creatures, the non-canon. Cursed to be born without souls. None among them shall meet glorious damnation, or the atrocity of salvation.”

            “I think I know the ponies,” said Rarity, “but they were earth ponies. Surely they didn’t cause this?”

            “No,” said a voice, “although the disturbance damaged an entire batch of growing fetuses. We had to purge the entire stock.”

            Rarity turned to see that she was being approached by several ponies. One of them was a rebody with long golden hair and a strangely pale-pink body, but she clearly had not been the one to speak, as her mouth had been sewn shut. Likewise, it had not been either of the two Stonie units that accompanied the group. Their faces had been scooped out entirely and replaced with large, mask-like plate implants that fed directly into the frontal portion of their brains. They had no lower jaws, eyes, or muzzles.

            That left only the pony in the center of the group, walking with the rebody and ahead of the noncans. Unlike the others, she looked rather ordinary, and was dressed in a rather harsh and intimidating business suit. Rarity found it odd, though, in that it did not conform to the current trends in business attire nor any type of suit she recognized. She would have at best described it as eccentric, but it seemed to work if only in that it matched the sterile and brutalist structure that surrounded them.

            The mare in the suit was orange in color, with bright violet hair that had been cut short and styled over her forehead. She had no horn and no apparent wings, so Rarity decided that she must have been an earth-pony. What was strange, though, was that it was impossible to assess her age. Physically, she looked quite young, perhaps the same age as Rainbow Dash or only slightly older. At the same time, though, she seemed far older than that.

            It took Rarity a moment to realize why, but she eventually came to the conclusion that it was her eyes. They were violet and piercing, and somehow simultaneously fiery and yet even more dead than those of the rebody that stood beside her. They were frighteningly old eyes.

            “Watcher Rarity, this is the director of the RD Corporation,” said the male rebody.

            “It is a pleasure to meet you,” said Rarity. She extended her hoof, but the director did not take it. Instead, her eyes flitted to each of the ponies before her. They did not stay long on any of them in particular until they fell on Rainbow Dash.

            “Rainbow Dash,” she said with a mild hint of amusement or surprise.

            Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow. “Do I know you?”

            “No,” said the director. “I’m sure you don’t. We have never met. But I am familiar with you.”

            “For the murders?”

            “Murders? No. For your renowned athletic prowess.”

            Rainbow Dash chuckled. “I am pretty renowned,” she bragged.

            “I am sorry to hear about the loss of a batch,” said Darknight.

            “Don’t be,” said the director. “They were commercial units. None of the experimental models were lost. Besides, we can cut up the ones that were near birth for parts and pulp the rest into stem-cells to help with aftermarket modifications.”

            “You promote third party reconfiguration?”

            “Of course. These two are in fact my personal work.” She gestured to the pair behind her.

            This seemed to cat Pinkamena’s attention. “So you are the lead scientist, then?”

            “Lead scientist. CEO. Owner. I inherited this company form my mother, and her mother before her. Our bloodline built everything you see here, and I own all of it.”

            “So then you would definitely know about the anomaly. And it’s source.”

            The director looked at Pinkamena. It was not so much a glare but a stare of disinterest, as if this were all terribly boring but she had nowhere better to be. Then, after a moment, she spoke. “Walk with me.”

            Rarity took the lead, walking alongside her. The female rebody and the Stonies fell back, with the Stonies projecting orange-colored holograms around themselves and setting to work on tasks that Rarity could not hope to understand.

            “I like your suit,” said Rarity. “It’s very…empowering?”

            “No you don’t,” said the director. “You find the hard lines too bold, the lack of color drab, and the use of rear boots instead of pants to be gauche.”

            “Wh- -what?”

            “Just because I do not adhere to what you consider ‘fashion’ does not mean I do not understand it. In all honesty what your kind considers clothing these days is highly unpleasant.”

            “I agree,” said Pinkamena. “It has always been my opinion that ponies should be naked as much as possible.”

            “Buck yeah,” whispered Rainbow Dash, playfully nudging Pinkamena.

            “Like your lobotomized friend, there?” The director pointed to Starlight, who was staring in awe at the pretty lights that surrounded the Stonie units.

            “No pony is more free than one who has had her frontal lobe severed,” suggested Pinkamena.

            “A bit nihilistic for a Discordian, don’t you think? But I can’t help but agree sometimes.”

            “And the event?” said Darknight.

            “A minor deviation. Nothing to be concerned about. As I’m sure the Consort Guard has informed you.”

            “We would not be Watchers if we were not persistent,” said Pinkamena.

            “No. I suppose not. Your thoughts, Rarity?”

            “M- -me?”

            “Yes, you. Or do you intend to let Pikamena speak for you?”

            “Well, I…I’m afraid I wouldn’t understand the cause even if you did explain it. I’m new here.”

            “Clearly.” The director stopped and sighed. “If you must know, the anomaly was caused by a momentary loss of containment in an experimental generator.”

            “Ugh,” said Rainbow Dash. “So it IS technical.”

            “Not in depth, Rainbow Dash. You do not need to know the specifics, nor would I give them to you. The work is proprietary and legally protected.”

            “Unlaw does not enforce such things,” said Darknight.

            “No, but I do.”

            “Do you really think you could take us on?” said Rainbow Dash, stepping forward defiantly.

            “Yes,” said the director, “but cutting off your contracts. Of course that would be a foolish decision for both parties, and disastrous for one of them. The nature of the reactor is highly technical, though. Even if you did understand it, you would likely find it horribly dull.”

            “We’re talking about a magical generator that could produce a class seven shockwave,” said Darknight. “And the fact that you ‘lost containment’ means that this could be an artifact that puts Equestria at incrediable risk.”

            “Possibly. But that is not in the interest of the Watchers, is it?”

            “It might be,” said Pinkimana. Then, slowly, “but…it also might not be.”

            “What?” said Rarity, confused by what Pinkamena meant by that. “But I thought we were supposed to protect Equestia!”

            “No. We are her to ensure the existence of Eternal Chaos, and to obey the will of Discord. From my understanding, Discord only tasked us with investigating. He did not say to seize the reactor, or to destroy it. My interpretation of His will is that it should remain in existence.”

            “Then why did we come all the way out here?” groaned Rainbow Dash.

            “You came because you wanted to mate with and then murder a pony. We came to see what the source of the problem was. And we have found it.”

            “And I assure you,” said the Consort Guard commander, “We have reviewed the situation. There is no danger here.”

            “But if you don’t understand technology,” said Rarity, “how…”

            “I would still like to run some scans,” said Darknight.

            “Fine,” said the director as she started walking again. “But you won’t find anything. That much magical charge interferes with our work here. I already degaussed the facility. The reactor has since been shut down for a design overhaul. And if you will excuse me, I have a considerable amount of work to do.”

            “Wait,” said Rarity, stopping her. “We certainly do appreciate your help, but I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”

            “Name?” said the director, turning toward her and staring with her cold, empty eyes. “My name is Xyuka. Do your best to stay out of my way, if you are able.”
> Chapter 7: The Eternal Mare
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The internal proximity sensors indicated that the Watchers had departed without further incident. Even the Consort Guard was beginning to leave, although more slowly as they performed a few more sweeps just to ensure that all the magical residue remaining from the adverse reaction was contained and, more importantly, that none of the Watchers had remained behind.

            Director Xyuka considered this as she walked through the darkened and empty corridor toward her office. Her two assistance units- -they were named Stoniecreek and Stonieriver- -followed her, and she was completely and utterly alone. Had either of the groups bothered to look deeper into her facility, they might have realized just how true that was.

            Xyuka finally entered a large, almost cavernous room. Like the rest of the rooms, it was nearly empty. The only item present was a desk in the center. This was what she had come to consider her office.

            There were no lights in the room. Xyuka did not need them. The artificial retinas in her eyes immediately compensated for the darkness, tracing the room and enhancing the image. Her hooves clicked softly against the smooth floor as she approached the chair at the empty desk, and she effortlessly lifted herself into it. Once she was seated, she leaned forward. Stoniecreek and Stonieriver were standing back from the desk in the darkness, facing her.

            “This place,” she said. “It reeks of contamination. This entire reality is defective.” She sighed. “Even their Rainbow Dash is corrupted. She shouldn’t be like that. Not Rainbow Dash.” She leaned back in her chair, feeling her tiny and inert wings pushing against the back of the chair. “But what do I expect? I foresaw this, I suppose. It doesn’t surprise me. She had to be born eventually. Just as I will have to kill her eventually. Just like the last time.”

            She was, of course, talking to no one at all. The interface program within what she had left of a brain had long since gone silent as it merged with her core personality, removing the only companion she had ever truly had. The Stonies, likewise, were not capable of hearing her. While it looked like she had removed their faces alone, the implants were far more extensive. Their skulls had been hollowed out entirely, and their brains removed down to the stems. They had no conscious will, thought, or volition. Xyuka was remotely operating them.

            “They didn’t even care,” she said. “That’s the nature of chaos. Everything possible, done in halves. Investigate the anomaly, but don’t stop it. Create the wars, but never let them finish. I don’t belong here.”  She paused for a long moment. “They didn’t even look.”

            She sat alone for several minutes, and then finally Stoniecreek stepped forward.

            “Director,” she said- -or rather, Xyuka once again said to herself, “you have an incoming transmission from our Sponsor.”

            The Stonie unit’s mask illuminated, and projection formed in front of it. Normally, this would have had the capacity to perfectly replicate the image of a pony. The technology did not even exist in Equestria- -and it likely never would. Instead of utilizing it, though, the speaker on the other side chose to project a simplified image. It was the text symbol of the inverse dagger, cast in thin lines of crimson light that stood out in stark contrast to the darkness of the room.

            “Is there a reason why you are bothering me?” asked Xyuka, leaning forward into the light of the projection.

            “You know there is,” said a distinctly female but otherwise nondescript voice. “The anomaly- -”

            “Has been rectified.”

            “Only barely, Xyuka. And it would be wise of you to show a little more respect, considering everything I’ve done for you.”

            “What you’ve done for me is not really my concern. I only care that I get paid when the task is complete.”

            “Yes. Once it is complete. And the device will never be completed if you insist on drawing attention to yourself.”

            “The resonance surge was a known possible reaction,” sighed Xyuka. “I anticipated that it might occur, and isolated the cascade vectors in time to prevent a discrepancy incident. Unfortunately, I had to draw power from the primary dampening field at the same time.”

            “So you knew this would happen?”

            “I knew it could happen. I doubt you could comprehend the level of technology used to create this reactor, or what it is capable of.”

            The dagger paused. “And if you had not contained the cascade?”

            “It would have detonated.”

            “How much?”

            “I would have survived. Equestria would not have.”

            “That is not an unacceptable outcome.”

            “For you. But it does not match my own goal.”

            “Which is what, exactly?”

            “Not your concern. It does not affect you. Only me.”

            “Ah. I see.” The optic element with Stoniecreek’s helmet moved. “And the reactor?”

            Xyuka extended her left front leg. The hologram that coated it flickered and vanished, revealing the limb underneath. It was the same orange color as the hologram, but covered in extensive scars both from injury and surgery. The whole of it contained numerous cybernetic elements of various architectures and sources, all of which were intertwined if not outright overgrown with twining biosynthetic implants. Xyuka gestured toward a relatively recent addition near the upper part of her shoulder.

            “You’re joking. That’s the reactor?”

            “What did you expect?” said Xyuka, flicking her leg to restore the hologram that made her retain some semblance of the pony she once might have been. “Something the size of a small city?”

            “Certainly something larger.”

            “I can’t take anything larger with me. Just my body, and my memories.”

            “So very true,” agreed the voice. “And I suppose it makes it more difficult for the Watchers to find.”

            Xyuka’s eyes narrowed. “Ah,” she said. “So you know.”

            “I have sources close to Discord. But I did not even need them to know that they would investigate. Did they find anything?”

            “No. The reactor and central processor stay with me, and the dampening field protected the less radiologically active components of the device.”

            “I don’t believe you.”

            “And I don’t really care.”

            The voice sighed. “Can you really be that careless? Or do you just resent me? Just because they left does not mean that they will stop investigating. We are so close. If they find out now- -”

            “They are not detectives. They are assassins at best, murderers and thugs to be realistic.” One of Xyuka’s artificial irises twisted, and a small orange-violet construct appeared near her head. Despite already being part of one conversation, she opened a second encryption channel and began transmitting coordinates. “Besides. Now that I know who they are, I can track them. And I can deal with them.”

            “You had better. I can’t move against them, not yet. You’re just a mercenary, Xyuka, so I doubt you would understand. But Chaos must be restored to this world.”

            “What happens to this world is irrelevant,” said Xyuka, shutting down her second line of communication. “You could let it burn, and that would hardly matter to me.”

            “It is so good to hear that,” said the voice, and Xyuka could tell that its owner was likely smiling. “Because that is exactly what is going to happen.”




 
> Chapter 8: Having Lunch
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although the island where RD Heavy Industries was located sat far and apart from all others without any connections, many of the others in the Floater District were bound by various means of transportation. Some of those that shared orbit around the Cataclysm were tethered together and linked with gondolas, while others had airship or hot-air-balloon ferries between them. A few Pegasi were even willing to take passengers over in carts.

            Rarity, of course, was not permitted to use any of these. Darknight insisted that she walk manually, even when the islands were what felt like miles apart. He continued to do this in what felt to Rarity like an outright sprint, and Rarity had to repeatedly wind herself just to keep up. She desperately wished that she could fly or teleport just so that she could move at her own pace.

            By the time she set hoof on one of the larger islands, her legs felt like they were jelly. She collapsed to her knees, panting.

            “I’m sweeeatttting!” she cried in horror and desperation.

            “I’m not,” said Twilight. She and Starlight, having teleported, were already waiting for them on the other side.

            “It’s not fair! You can teleport!”

            “She can’t,” said Twilight, gesturing toward Pinkamena who gracefully landed on her feet as she dropped from the sky. “Nor can the robot.”

            “You could always grow a pair of wings,” said Pinkamena. “If you had some nice fuzzy feathers, you might actually be a little attractive. Or less ugly.”

            “Ugly! You- -” Rarity choked on some mucous in her mouth and coughed. “I will argue with you later,” she said. “Need…air…”

            “Well,” said Darknight. “I think you have worked off an adequate amount of mayonnaise. I think you have earned a calorically balanced lunch. Ideally with flavorings.”

            “Lunch?” said Rarity, perking up.

            “That is why we came all the way over here. Or else you could have joined Sunset or Rainbow Dash.”

            Rarity looked around and realized that those two members were missing. “Where did they go?” she asked.

            “Knowing Rainbow Dash?” said Twilight. “She’s sleeping. And knowing Shimmer? Whining, probably.”

            “Sunset returned to base to analyze some of the data that we both collected.”

            “That her and I collected,” said Twilight. “You were just peripheral.”

            “And what is that supposed to mean?” said Rarity, somewhat defensively.

            “It means he did his job. Noncans are good for running basic scans, but they’re just acquisition machines. I was still the one collecting the data.”

            “He’s not a machine!”

            Twilight laughed. “Wow! You really are from Ponyville, aren’t you?”

            “She is not incorrect,” said Darknight, stepping past Rarity. “I would advise against being deceived by my appearance.”

            As Rarity followed him, Twilight approached her. “It’s not your fault,” she said. “I’m sorry. I was being mean. You can’t help it if your town doesn’t have a proper education system. I’m sure you know a lot about growing apples or whatever they teach in rural districts.”

            “I wouldn’t know,” said Rarity, curtly. “I dropped out of school in the seventh grade. So MNYA!” She stuck out her tongue at Twilight, who looked completely shocked and fell behind.

            “Real mature,” said Pinkamena. She gave a very thin smile. “But worth it for the look on her face. Don’t let her get to you. She’s spent so much time reading that she can’t get a stallion to get on top of her unless she flashes a sack of bits to him.”

            “I have ears,” said Twilight. “I can hear you.”

            “I know. That’s why it’s funny. That, and because it’s true. Or is that what you have Starlight for?”

            Twilight frowned. “Cupcake licker,” she swore under her breath.

            Twilight and Starlight fell back, although Rarity was distinctly aware that Starlight was staring blankly and unblinkingly in her general direction. Darknight had gone ahead and seemed content to be alone, leaving Rarity with Pinkamena as the group of them entered a rather extensive small city. Compared to Discordalot, it was small and quaint, but Rarity was still careful to stick near Pinkamena. From what she had been told, gravity could be unpredictable regardless of which city she was walking through.

            “So,” she said, trying to make small talk. “I’m…well, frankly, this is all a bit overwhelming, and I am afraid I am a bit behind the times, what with having a rather quaint rural life.”

            “I don’t care terribly much,” said Pinkamena blankly.

            “O…oh…”’

            “But you can keep talking if you want. Not a lot of ponies like talking to me. They say I’m a downer.”

            “Not at all!” exclaimed Rarity, obviously lying. “But, I was meaning to ask you.”

            “Am I single? No. Besides, you’re not my type. I don’t like ugly girls.”

            “Ah,” said Rarity, pursing her lips. “Not a downer at all, I see. No. I was just wondering…who exactly are you?”

            “I see Ponyville still uses lead paint. I am Pinkamena Diane Pie. We’ve gone over this. Come on. Starlight grasps this, and she’s been lobotomized.”

            “But I thought you were Pinkie Pie- -”

            “No,” said Pinkamena, harshly. “Don’t confuse us. It’s insulting, and I’m legally allowed to take one of your eyes if you insult me again. Of course, as a Watcher, we’re legally allowed to do whatever we want. So I might do it anyway…”

            “That’s not what I meant!” cried Rarity, jumping back and covering her eyes. “No! I was just- -it’s just confusing!”

            “We are sisters,” said Pinkamena. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

            “But…you have the same body?”

            “Again, lead paint? Seriously. How did you get to be a Watcher? Oh, I already know that. It’s mostly random.”

            “I figured as much,” sighed Rarity. “But if you’re you, and she’s her…then, well, how much of her is in you?”

            “A stupid question from a stupid mare. We’re sisters. Do you have a sister?”

            Rarity blinked, surprised by the question. “Yes,” she said. “My darling Sweetie Belle.”

            “And do you share things with her?”

            “Yes, of course. That’s what sisters do.”

            “But do you share everything?”

            “Well, no,” admitted Rarity.

            “Pinkie Pie and I are the same. She tells me some things, and I tell her some, but we keep some things secret.”

            “Oh,” said Rarity, having some understanding by visualizing herself and Sweetie Belle sharing a body. She shivered, as that sounded like a horrible fate. “Well, it is nice having a sister that loves you, isn’t it?”

            “I used to have more,” sighed Pinkamena. “But now it’s just us.”

            “Oh my!” cried Rarity. “I am truly sorry? If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

            “Pinkie Pie killed two of them, and our parents. I killed Marble Pie.”

            “You- -you killed- -”

            “Believe me. It was a mercy.”

            Rarity fell silent, unable to fully process or comprehend the information that she had just been given. She had been walking with a mare who had killed her own sister- -but somehow the look of deep pain in Pinkamena’s eyes made that knowledge even worse.

            So, instead, she turned her attention toward the city around her. It was actually not as unpleasant as she had expected, at least in appearance. It still had a strong tendency toward vastly mixed and clashing architecture, but not to the extent of Discordalot’s ghastly clashing colors and immense buildings fusing into megastructures at odd and impossible angles. Instead, it seemed more like a number of far more sane architects were competing against each other. In fitting with the industrial nature of the district, many of the buildings were dull and brutalist. Others, though, maintained strange gothic elements or even postmodern curves. These often stood next to rather ordinary looking glass buildings or wooden ones, creating what was overall a cheerful if jarring environment.

            The inhabitants, though, did not seem to share that level of cheer. There were many, of course. Mares, stallions, fillies and colts of all sorts who were walking up and down the street on their way home from work, or perhaps to work for the late shift. From a distance, they looked as happy as any ponies living throughout Equestria could be. When Rarity and her team drew close, though, the citizens’ expressions would invariably fall and they would retreat down dark alleys or into whatever building was nearest.

            “Why are they doing that?” said Rarity. “It does seem terribly rude.” She looked down at her clothing. “It isn’t my choice of outfit, is it? I had a suspicion that violet might be just a little too loud, especially if the light was low!” She closed her eyes and concentrated, changing the saturation of her mane and increasing the albedo of her coat slightly. “There,” she said. “More appropriate for evenings, don’t you think?”

            “It’s not your clothing,” said Darknight from ahead of her. “They’re afraid.”

            “Afraid? But we’re not scary! Well, Pinkamena a little bit…”

            “I try,” said Pinkamena, shrugging.

            “We are,” said Darknight. “Our faces are recognized throughout Equestria. Even mine. And we do not have the same luxury that you do.”

            “Luxury? Well, I certainly do appreciate finer things, but I can’t say that I really understand what you mean.”

            “You can change your appearance. You are the only one of us who can escape their hatred.”

            “You also might be the only one who would want to,” said Twilight, suddenly appearing next to Rarity.

            “Excuse me?”

            “Take my advice. Don’t bother with other ponies. Their pointless. All social interaction does is distract a pony from things she might actually enjoy. Which for me is my work, and for you is…well…getting ogled by stallions, I suppose?”

            “We’ll be lucky if we can even find somewhere to let us in,” said Darknight. “All the money in the world, and it’s so hard to find somepony to take it.”

            “Go for the one on fourth and G,” said Twilight, smiling mischievously.

            “That’s where I’m going,” said Darknight.

            There was a sound near Rarity, and she turned sharply. It had been something like an electrical discharge, or the rush of air produced by a small explosion. Looking around, though, Rarity saw nothing- -which she quickly realized was the surprising part. Twilight was gone. Only Starlight stood behind her, drooling and making low wheezing sounds as she walked.

            “Oh my,” said Rarity. “Where did she go?”

            None of the others answered, as none of them seemed to care. Even Starlight seemed not to have noticed that her master was missing, although that was likely to do the brain damage.

            So they continued, and as Darknight led them down a few more blocks and around a corner, Twilight appeared once again. This time she was stepping out of the door of a café, the bell jingling as she exited. For just a moment, Rarity was sure she saw Twilight tucking a small red-brown into one of her many pockets.

            “What did you do?” demanded Pinkamena.

            “I had a talk with the proprietor,” said Twilight, still smiling with the same devious smile as before. “And we came to an agreement. We’re good to go. Except you, Pinkamena. You have to eat outside.”

            “Bite me,” said Pinkamena, shoving Twilight out of the way. “I bet I taste like frosting.”

            “More like sour cream,” said Twilight, holding the door. She did not attempt to stop Pinkamena, but she did hold up a hoof when Starlight tried to enter. “You really do need to stay outside. I can’t stand to look at you when I’m eating.”

            She then promptly closed the door in Starlight’s face, hitting her nose with it in the process. Starlight barely seemed to register any kind of pain, although her eyes were now locked on Twilight through the glass. Twilight stared back for a moment, and then closed the blinds.

            “Don’t you think that was a little harsh?” said Rarity.

            “No, I was very careful. She doesn’t have the capacity to feel rejection. I have spent a significant amount of time studying the pony brain, after all, and hold several medical degrees.” She shrugged. “Besides. She can’t eat on her own anyway, and I’m not about to spoon feed her. It’s gross.”

            “But you can’t just leave her out there!”

            “Why? She’s not going to wander off. She never does.”

            Twilight chuckled to herself and then walked to a table where Darknight was already sitting. Pinkamena had walked to the far side of the room where there was a self-service bar for tea, and has paused at a large metal container of hot water to pour herself a mug.

            As Rarity approached, Darknight’s horn ignited and her chair automatically pulled out for her.

            “Oh! Thank you! So very gentlecoltly!” she said, taking her seat.

            “It’s just standard programming,” said Twilight.

            “Then why didn’t he do it for you, hmm?”

            “Because my etiquette hierarchy ranks you two differently,” said Darknight. “There is nothing deeper to read into it.”

            A waiter approached them. He was a grayish pony with blue hair and a thin moustache. What Rarity could not understand was why he was shaking and sweating so badly as he approached them.

            “M…menus,” he said, passing them to Twilight, Rarity, and Pinkamena, who was returning with her tea, her long straight tail swishing behind her as she walked.

            “Why thank you,” said Rarity, giving him her best smile. This only seemed to make him panic more, and he let out a stifled yelp as he took back. This caused Twilight’s gaze to slide toward him.

            “Is there something wrong?” she asked slowly.

            “N- -no! No! Nothing is the matter today! We have a special on- -as special on…” He started breathing heavily, and tried to regain his composure.

            “Darling,” said Rarity, “you don’t look well! If you need to sit down for a bit, I’m sure we can manage.”

            “Have you ever received a blood transfusion?” asked Twilight.

            “Wh- -what?”

            “Or have you ever had iodine poisoning? Thyroid problems? How much magnesium do you eat on a daily basis? Manganese? They’re not the same!”

            “I- -I don’t- -I don’t- -”

            “Because it effects the quality,” said Twilight, all joy fading from her expression, “of the INGREDIENTS.”

            The waiter gasped, but to his credit, did not flee. “Of course. I’ll be…I’ll be back in a moment to take your orders.”

            As he left, Pinkamena sipped her tea and groaned. “Discord’s wumps, Sparkle, were you trying to get him to piss himself?”

            “No.” Twilight looked at the ground where the waiter had been standing and pointed. “But I did anyway.”

            “You don’t have to be so mean!” said Rarity.

            “No, but who’s going to stop me?” Twilight shrugged and laughed.

            Rarity just sighed. She understood that Twilight was substantially her senior in this organization, and that it would be rude to question her elder’s motives. Especially since she did not yet know exactly how prone Twilight was to violence. She seemed odd, but only in habit.

            So instead she just looked around the room. The restraint was hardly formal, but it was a bit fancier than she had been expecting. Not a café or diner, but something just a little nicer. The décor was nice and homey without being excessively rustic, and there was definitely a level of care taken with the interior design. The only strange thing about it, though, was how empty it was. Most of the ponies inside had left, except for a few that were cowering at only the most distant of tables.

            “Well, this place looks nice,” said Rarity. “To be completely honest, I have always had an interest in fine dining. There are not terribly many establishments in Ponyville, unfortunately.”

            “There are many fine restaurants in Discordalot,” said Darknight. “And you are of course welcome to visit them in your time off.”

            “Really?” said Rarity, leaning closer to him. “Well, I don’t think it would do if I went alone, and I hardly even know where they would be. If somepony could go with me…?”

            Darknight looked to her. His eyes met her, and Rarity fell silent. There was nothing in those eyes, not even a glimmer of comprehension. “Then I recommend taking Pinkamena, when she is available. She certainly needs to get out more.”

            “Oh…oh,” said Rarity, going back to her normal sitting position and picking up her menu in the most dejected way possible. “Well, if that’s what you recommend…”

            She flipped through the menu, but barely read anything. That was when she noticed that none had been given to Darknight. “He didn’t give you one,” she said. She held out her own. “Here. You can use mine.”

            “No,” he said. “I do not need a menu for the same reason I cannot go with a restaurant to you. I am here only for the sake of inclusion. Soylent is a controlled substance. They do not sell it here.”

            “Oh. Because it is made of…” Rarity looked from side to side, and then whispered, “ponies?”

            “It’s not actually a secret,” said Pinkamena, taking another sip of her tea. “Actually, it’s pretty common knowledge. And it tastes super-gross. Like glue. And not even good glue. The crappy stuff.”

            “It is not restricted because of its source,” said Darknight, “it is restricted because it is all that noncans are able to eat.”

            “That sounds terribly dull. Not even a little taste of something else?”

            “No.”

            “Oh,” said Rarity, sounding disappointed. She looked at Darknight for a moment more, wondering if the others really were right. The more she learned about him, the more she began to believe their assertions that he was not a pony at all.

            It was then she realized that none of the others had even picked up their menus. None of them seemed to even have an urge to. Twilight was just sitting quietly, drawing strange lettering on a small scrap of paper with a thin brown quill. Pinkamena was slowly sipping her tea, and Darknight seemed to be doing nothing at all.

            “I…suppose you already all know what you are going to order?” said Rarity.

            “Pinkamena?” said Darknight, his pale turquoise eyes tilting toward her.

            “Yeah. I feel it. My tail’s been twitching ever since we got in here.”

            “Any idea about the receiving end?” asked Twilight, now folding the piece of paper she had been doodling on into a tiny paper airplane before looking over her shoulder at Starlight, who was staring at them through the window.

            “Not sure,” said Darknight. “Let’s find out.” He looked to Rarity. “Rarity, could you do something for me?”

            “Of course, darling. What do you need?”

            “Move your head to the left about three inches.”

            “Like this?”

            A loud noise suddenly erupted. The explosion caused Rarity to jump and to nearly go deaf, but her hearing was not impacted enough to stop her from hearing the zipping sound of the bullet as it traveled from Darknight’s pistol past her head, or the sound of several pieces of her hair snapping as it cut through them.

            Rarity cried out, jumping out of her chair and staring aghast at the pistol levitating at Darknight’s side. She then heard something slump to the floor, and turned around to see their waiter collapsed and gasping for breath as silver fluid poured out the fatal wound in his throat. As he fell, the pistol he had been carrying clattered to the floor.

            Then she felt like something had punched her from the side, and in her unbalanced state it hit hard enough to knock her to the floor. She heard the metallic sound of something striking her mithril armor, and felt hot flecks of metal on her cheek. As she fell, she realized that she had just been shot.

            The bullet had been stopped by the armor, but Rarity hit the floor hard. She managed to turn in time to see a yellow colored mare that she had initially taken for a patron of the restraint raising a pistol, this time aiming for Rarity’s head, which was unarmored. Before she could fire, though, a tiny paper airplane soared through the air and stuck into her mane.

            The airplane exploded into flames, and the spell it contained took the rest of the mare it was attached to up with it. She screamed as she immolated, her eyes boiling and her flesh melting off as she fired wildly. Rarity screamed and ducked, covering her head as several more bullets rebounded off the metal scales that covered her body.

`           As she did, she looked up at Twilight. Twilight just smiled, and then vanished in a plume of electric-like violet magic as she teleported away.

            “Move!” called Darknight’s voice. “GET TO COVER!”

            Rarity tried, but her whole body had gone numb. She could not bring herself to move. More explosions were going off- -Darknight was returning fire. The ponies who had attacked them had not just been the pair. More were rushing in with rifles and bladed weapons and the glow of magic. Many wore armor, all of it painted with a strange image of a circle consisting of one blue and one white pony. From the look in their eyes, Rarity knew that they had come to kill.

            “Rarity! MOVE!”

            Rarity suddenly felt herself picked up by magic and literally tossed across the room. The landing was harsh, but she fell into a place where the shape of one of the restaurant’s counters prevented the attackers from seeing her. She covered her ears as more bullets whizzed overhead, and she started crying. It was all too much for her.

            Then she heard hoofsteps, and looked up, hoping to see Darknight or even Twilight coming to save her. Instead, a pair of stallions wearing the two-pony colors appeared on the edge of the counter. One bore a rifle, and the other a long and clearly poisoned sword.

            “There she is!” cried the one with the sword. “Shoot her in the head!”

            The pony sat on his haunches and raised the firearm to his shoulder. “Such a waste,” he said. “This one’s so pretty.”

            “No, wait, don’t!” cried Rarity. “You don’t need to- -”

            The stallion with the rifle suddenly screamed. His front legs bent back suddenly, causing the rifle to fall to the floor. Then there was a horrible cracking sound as they twisted and broke in several places. His eyes bulged and he screamed even louder as his lower body suddenly began twisting and as his ribcage started to implode.

            “Pokey, no!” cried his friend, who suddenly stopped as his own eyes widened and his limbs all twisted simultaneously, the bones shattering as they curled in on themselves. He began screaming as well, and Rarity was forced to watch as the two were forced into smaller and smaller shapes, their flesh tearing as fragments of bones poked through and as muscle and sinew twisted and snapped. It was the most horrible thing she had ever seen, the way their bodies just seemed to deform and break in response to the violet energy that surrounded their bodies. Worse by far, tough, was the look of fear in their eyes, which continued even after their throats had been pulled free of what they had left of bodies. They were still alive and in pain to the last.

            Then they were not. Their bodies imploded, and all that was left of each pony was a small red-brown cube. Both of these dropped to the floor, making a tinkling sound like glass against silver as they landed in the pools of blood below, each still steaming with violet energy.

            The process had only taken seconds, even if it had seemed to go on for hours to Rarity. When the cubes fell, Rarity was able to see Twilight standing behind them. She was smiling as she picked up the cubes and tucked them into her pockets.

            “Transfiguration magic,” she said. “Always impressive to watch, isn’t it?”

            A pink-violet bubble appeared around her as several bullets sailed in. They ricocheted off it, and Rarity cried out and covered her head as the shrapnel landed on her.

            “Come on,” sighed Twilight. “Like bullets can even- -”

            She suddenly cried out and a plume of silver shot out of one of her shoulders. The shield collapsed and she dropped to her knees.

            “Twilight!” cried Rarity, moving to her side.

            “Bloody heck,” swore Twilight, clutching her shoulder. “That one had a phasic curse on it. So these guys aren’t total amateurs after all.”

            “We have to stop the bleeding! Here, let me help- -”

            Twilight shoved her away. “Don’t touch me! This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot!” She pulled her hoof away from the bleeding wound and charged her horn. She winced as the wound hissed and as the flesh and armor around it regenerated in response to the spell. “But if you get hit with that? The phasic will liquefy your organs. I highly doubt you know the counterspell sequence.” She then stood up, and directed her horn at her enemies. Rarity poked her head over the counter just in time to see a pony advancing with a knife in her teeth get struck by Twilight’s spell. Her mouth burst open as her jaw dislocated and to Rarity’s horror her skeleton attempted- -and mostly succeeded- -to crawl out of her mouth. It only got half-way out before she died and Twilight stopped animating it, leaving the half-boneless corpse to fall.

            Across the room, Darknight was engaged in direct combat with the attackers. He moved quickly and gracefully at almost impossible speed in an almost mechanical way, firing the two pistols he carried as he moved to dodge attacks. Unlike Twilight, his combat magic seemed to consist of little more than the ability to hold objects, and unlike Rarity his armor was not designed to withstand repeated direct hits from weaponfire. He did not seem to need either, though, as he had not been killed. In fact, the bodies were beginning to pile around him, and the attacking ponies seemed to be losing their conviction. When Rarity saw Darknight’s face, she understood why. There was not even the slightest hint of emotion. His eyes were as blank and empty as ever.

            Out of Rarity’s site sat Pinkamena. Unlike the others, she had not entered the fight. In fact, she had not bothered to react. She was exactly where they had left her, still sitting quietly and drinking her tea. As a Priestess of Chaos, she was not a soldier or a warrior of any sort. Fighting was simply not what she did.

            This initially confused the attacking ponies, but those that did not want to risk trying to take down the noncan or be reeved apart by forbidden magic decided that it would be easiest to take down the soft pink pony.

            “Too easy,” said one, raising his gun and pointing it at her head.

            It was that exact moment that a weld spontaneously broke on the hot-water tank on the tea counter. The entire metal container burst open, sending a plume of boiling water directly toward Pinkamena. Because of the shape of the splash, though, not a single drop touched her. Instead, most of it landed on the pony who was about to kill her.

            He was blinded instantly, and screamed, dropping his rifle and immediately tripping over it. He landed on a table, causing it to tilt upward. Another pony had fired her pistol toward Pinkamena, but one of the metal legs of the overturned table stopped it before it could reach her. It ricocheted and went through the now burned and blind eye of the scaled pony, leaving out the far side of his head and imbedding itself in the lower spine of a pony behind her. That pony screamed as her lower limbs went limp.

            The table had not been empty. It had contained several long, sharp knives, the sort that came with hayburgers sometimes. One of them struck a large Pegasus pony in the neck, and his entire body stiffened as it imbedded in his upper spine. Although he had been killed, his wings extended, triggering a pair of automatic weapons that he had been concealing beneath them. Bullets poured out, and as he fell he twisted, dragging the barrage across his comrades who had gathered in an arc around Pinkamena. Pinkamena was not struck; the rate of the bullets and the speed at which the stallion fell caused them to shoot on either side of her into two unfortunate advancing ponies.

            In only a few seconds that entire restaurant had been killed. The only survivor was the half-paralyzed mare, who was weeping and trying to escape by crawling over the bodies of her beloved comrades. It was indeed a pitiful sight.

            Pinkamena sighed. “All I wanted was some green tea and tofu. I didn’t even want sauce.” Her mouth twisted into a horrid smile, and she suddenly started giggling. As she did, her long and straight hair was pulled upward into tight curls. The giggling rose to manic laughter, and Pinkie threw her head back at the hilarity that surrounded her. “TOFU!” she cried. “That’s such a funny word!” She took a sip of Pinkamena’s tea and spat it out. “YICK! Unsweetened? So gross! The things Pinkamena puts into our body.” She shrugged, but then chuckled. “Or the things she lets Rainbow Dash put into our body! Insert rimshot here!”

            She stood up suddenly, causing her chair to fall backward. Then, humming a jaunty tune, she bounced through the piles of corpses toward the mare who was trying to pull herself away as her rear legs dragged behind her.

            “Oop! Look at that!” said Pinkie, pointing at the trail of red she was leading. “A streak! You’re streaking! So naughty! Well, it isn’t a REAL party until somepony streaks!”

            She laughed loudly and reached the pony.

            “Please!” she cried. “Have mercy! I have children!”

            “Really? Well I guess that explains why you’re pregnant!”

            “I’m- -I’m what?”

            Pinkie Pie flipped her over. “Or were. Until about forty three seconds ago. You know, the bullet? You got a paralizbortion! That’s being paralyzed, AND an abortion!” She giggled, and then brought her face close to the mare’s. “But as for mercy, that’s my sister’s my sister’s thing. And she’s asleep right now. My job is FUN.”

            “N- -no! Please no! NO!”

            Across the room, Rarity heard the sound of a scream so horrible that it made every hair on her body stand on end. She hardly had time to notice, though, as the situation around her was changing rapidly. She squeaked audibly as Darknight jumped over the counter and into cover with her.

            “Are you injured?” he asked as he reloaded.

            “No, I’m- -Darknight, your eye!”

            “I know,” said Darknight. One side of his face had been badly cut, and his eye had been completely removed. “Minor injury. It’s why I have two. I’ve also been shot at least twice, but my armor absorbed one of them.”

            “And the other?”

            “Already cauterized. I can sustain combat, but not for much longer. I require assistance.”

            “But I can’t do anything! I don’t have any weapons, and I don’t know any spells for this!”

            “No, but you are coated in mithril. I need you to absorb bullets so I don’t have to.”

            “Excuse me? You’re asking me to get shot for you!”

            “We’re a team. And if you are going to stay on this team, you are going to WORK.”

            Rarity almost protested, but instead she found herself taking a breath and nodding.

            “Good. Keep your  head covered. You really should have built a helmet.”

            “Darling, I just couldn’t bear keeping a mane like this under something so…practical.”

            “Well, let us see if good hair stops bullets.”

            With that, he forced her out of cover. The restaurant on the other side was in shambles. All of the charm and sweetness and care of its design had been replaced with damage and corpses, with the darling color scheme of the walls replaced with stains of red and silver. The bodies of the attackers lay mixed with those of guests and waitstaff who had been caught in the crossfire, many of whom still had violet-smoking holes in their foreheads.

            There were only a few left, and they seemed to be the toughest. Those that had guns opened fire, and Rarity began to cry as she served as a pony shield for Darknight. A few of the bullets whizzed through her hair, but most of them struck her in the body. The pain was quite intense; every blow was like getting hit by a hammer, and each one pushed back with enough force to nearly knock her over. Inside, she knew that she was being badly bruised, and there were a few agonizing snaps that she was pretty sure were ribs.

            Of course, she did as she was told, and tried to force herself to stand and keep her head down. Because of this, she barely noticed the large stallion charging her until she had already been thrown back and pinned to the floor.

            “ACK! Darknight, help!” she cried as the Pegasus pony tried to bite at her face.

            “The Two Sisters will rise again!” screamed the Pegasus as he foamed at the mouth.

            “Rarity, here!” cried Darknight, tossing her one of his pistols.

            Rarity grasped it in her magic, and then shoved it in the Pegasus’s mouth. She saw his eyes go wide, but she did not hesitate. She pulled the trigger, and was surprised by how much it kicked back as the rear of his head exploded in a plume of skull fragments and gore. He immediately quivered and collapsed limply on top of her.

            She pushed him off, only to find that he had been the second to last. The final one, now finding himself alone, suddenly grabbed a small filly who had been hiding near her parent’s bodies where they had been having a meal just minutes earlier. He held her in front of him like a shield, and as she started crying and he held a knife to her throat.

            “Don’t move or she- -”

            There was a pop as Darknight fired without hesitation or remorse. Then the final enemy fell, dead. The filly gasped for a moment, seemingly confused by the bullet hole in her chest, and then expired quietly on the floor with the rest of them.

            With that, every pony in the room save the Watchers was dead. Darknight stood across the room, his dark colored blood dripping onto the floor as he panted from exertion. Twilight, meanwhile, was picking through the corpses and the still living, occasionally stopping to gut them or pull them apart with her magic to get at eyes and horns and other things that Rarity dared not conceive of.

            Pinkie Pie bounced across the dead, humming to herself. “Oh wow!” she said. “We really partied hard! You could say we…painted the town red? Eh? Eh?”

            “Now is NOT the time for jokes, Pinkie!” cried Rarity.

            “No, it isn’t,” said Darknight. “I’m detecting more forces converging on our location.”

            “Excellent,” said Twilight. “I’m still low on my D’Nixus acid quota. If you could try to shoot more in the liver and let them bleed out, that would be really helpful.”

            “Or you could do your job!” cried Rarity.

            “I am,” said Twilight, pointing to several jars and containers of things she had collected from those she had killed or who had been killed for her. “Look at all these reagents!”

            “I think I got some reagent on my shoes,” said Pinkie. “So nasty. So good.”

            “Why are they attacking us?” asked Rarity. “How- -how did they find us?”

            “It doesn’t matter,” said Darknight. “Many oppose the will of the Madgod. It is our function to eliminate them.”

            “Ah!” said Pinkie. “So this is a working lunch, then!”

            “Work indeed,” said Darknight, approaching the door. “I can sustain sixteen more minutes of combat. That should be more than enough.”

            “I could do this all day if it wasn’t so boring,” sighed Twilight. “There’s nothing good here. Just generic stuff. But I guess it’s still useful in its own way.”

            Rarity followed Darknight, even though she knew that she could do very little to help aside from act as a sponge for lead. Her body hurt, but the adrenaline from the experience was providing some numbness against it. With the lull in the fighting, though, her battered body was beginning to ache badly.

            Outside, Starlight had apparently not noticed anything that was going on. She was instead staring slack-jawed at the sky. Rarity looked up to see a kite being flown in the distance, probably from a park elsewhere in the city. Starlight seemed completely engrossed by it, which was probably for the better. As useless as Rarity was, she had no idea what good a lobotomized unicorn would be in a fight.

            That was when she saw an enormous stallion bolt across the street, his cloak falling to reveal his armor and the two-pony crest he wore. She also saw the axe he was wielding, and the murderous look in his eyes as he roared in fury.

            “Starlight, look out!” screamed Rarity.

            Starlight barely had the mental capacity to recognize her own name, but turned slowly toward Rarity. As she did, the stallion brought down the axe into her unarmored side. Starlight just continued to stare blankly, and then slowly turned. As she did, Rarity gasped when she saw that the blade had not even left a mark. Instead, a thin flicker of electric blue light arced through Starlight’s coat and against the blade.

            The stallion did not seem to understand why he had not been able to cut what to him looked like a mostly naked mare. He did not have long to question, though. The tip of Starlight’s horn ignited with blue light, and the stallion’s flesh bubbled and erupted from within as his body was torn apart into a plume of bones and streaming entrails.

            “It isn’t a party without STREAMERS!” cried Pinkie Pie, dancing as some of the boiling remnants sailed through the air. “Or steamers, as the case may be!”

            There was a loud and distant explosion, and Starlight’s head suddenly cocked to the side. An enormous piece of deformed lead dropped from her temple, indicating that she had just been shot with an immensely large bullet.

            “Sniper!” cried Darknight, taking cover under the café’s awning.

            “That’s the least of our problems,” said Rarity. “Look!”

            The troops that Darknight had warned them about suddenly seemed to appear, either pushing their way through the crowds of civilians and emergency responders or pulling back cloaks to reveal their armor and insignias. Gunfire rang out, and Rarity dropped to her knees, covering her head.

            None of the bullets struck her, though. Instead, she looked up to see herself and Darnight encased in a violet bubble of energy.

            “You both are going to need this,” said Twilight. “And here I was expecting to get more reagents out of them…”

            Through the translucent sphere, Rarity saw Starlight step forward. Most of the bullets seemed to be directed at her now, including the enormous rounds that the sniper was firing. None had any real effect, with all of them deforming and dropping off her magically reinforced skin. She seemed barely to notice any, except where an especially strong blow would stop her for a moment.

            Then she stopped and raised her horn. Rarity saw her grimace, and suddenly Starlight cried out with primal rage. Her entire body seemed to be engulfed in an explosion of magical force, and even through the bubble Rarity felt the ground shake.

            Bolts of light shot from her horn. Not just one, but several. Each one struck one of the oncoming ponies, slicing through their armor effortlessly and cutting into the ponies within. Their bodies stayed stable only long enough for them to look down in shock and pain before they detonated into plumes of organs and burning flesh.

            Whatever spell this was- -if it even was a spell at all- -was not directed. It did not differentiate between friend and foe. Civilians on the street were torn apart as well. Stallions, emergency personnel, even mares who desperately but futilely tried to shield their foals from the streaks of death. None of them survived.

            Then the number of beams increased. Twilight grimaced as hundreds of them seemed to strike her bubble, and the spell began to crack slightly before being reinforced with some kind of strange red-colored magic. Outside, the beams tore into the buildings around the street, ripping them apart as they tore through steel and concrete indiscriminately, killing any pony that they encountered either by direct injury or by leveling the structures that they were in.

            Then Rarity was forced to close her eyes by a blinding surge of blue light. When she opened them, Twilight was in the process of lowering her shield. Starlight now stood amongst the waste of a destroyed city block, staring as blankly and emptily as she had before, even with her body arcing with blue light. She seemed to have expended almost no energy, and did not look tired in the slightest.

            “Impressive,” said Pinkie, who was standing on a small island of sidewalk that was mysteriously intact. “Kind of makes me feel inadequate, though. I want to shoot death beams too!”

            Pinkie may have meant that as a compliment, but Starlight did not hear it. Instead, she just stood there drooling vacantly.

            “What was that?” said Rarity, softly.

            “The reason I took her frontal lobe,” said Twilight, as though that were an explanation. Rarity was about to ask more, but Twilight suddenly seemed intrigued by something that she saw down the street. Rarity looked, and saw a flickering dome of blue light. The spell was badly cracked and damaged, and it dissipated as they watched, but the two ponies that spilled out were still breathing as they fell to the floor.

            “Well,” said Twilight, licking her lips. “It looks like we have some survivors.”

            Twilight approached them quickly, with the others allowing her to take the lead. Rarity stayed close, though. Starlight’s blast had been dangerously powerful- -impossibly so, even- -and any pony who could have survived that was likely powerful indeed.

            As soon as the survivors were visible, though, it was apparent that that they were in no condition to fight. Their shield spell had not been as advanced as Twilight’s, and they had paid dearly for it. Both were badly burned, and their armor, despite being of very high quality, had been damaged. Rarity was surprised to see that both were white unicorns like her. One was a tall and beautiful female, and the other a stallion with long blue hair tied back behind his head and a broken monocle over one eye.

            “Excellent,” said Twilight. “And here I thought I wasn’t going to get anything.”

            “You’ll never get anything out of us,” said the mare in a thick accent.

            “I won’t stop because you don’t consent,” said Twilight, her magic closing tightly around the mare’s neck and causing her to gasp.

            “No!” said the stallion. “Please, stop!”

            Twilight did not. She lifted the mare off the ground so that they were eye-level. “That’s quite a long horn you have, isn’t it?”

            The mare’s eyes suddenly narrowed, and she flicked her horn. A surge of blue light  flew out from it. Instinctively, Twilight raised her left front leg, the one she kept completely covered. When the blue magic struck it, there was a small explosion of deep red light and the mare screamed as the magic feedback struck her horn.

            Twilight looked down at the damage to the covering over her hoof, and Rarity thought that she saw something red glowing form within. Twilight’s eyes narrowed.

            “Okay. So you want to forgo mercy, then. Fine. I have protocols for that.”

            She picked up the mare again, but this time acted before she could resist. Twilight’s magic clamped down around the mare’s horn. The mare screamed and tried to resist, but her weak blue magic was easily overpowered by Twilight’s pink-violet.

            Then the mare’s horn began to twist. The mare’s eyes went wide, and her limbs flailed as she struggled against Twilight’s grasp. The scream was not normal. It was high and filled with fear and pain beyond anything that Rarity could even hope to understand.

            Then, as she watched, Rarity saw Twilight tear the horn free of the mare’s head, even taking the deep fleshy root with it. Rarity immediately vomited, and nearly fainted. Killing was one thing, even the way Twilight did it- -but this was just too much. As a unicorn, she understood what the horn meant, and how it was both incredibly sensitive and critical to a unicorn’s sense of self. That another unicorn could even conceive of so violently taking that most precious of organs was beyond disgusting. Seeing this, Rarity had never realized how deeply she now hated Twilight.

            And then, of all things, Twilight laughed. “Excellent!” she exclaimed. “The horn-marrow of a pure white unicorn! Finally something worth my time!”

            The magic around the horn she was holding changed, and small lines erupted on it as Twilight dissected it, pulling the bony exterior away from the soft nerve-filled pith within. She filed the pieces with perfect precision and organization into several small containers.

            “Now, Ms. Earth-Pony, could you please tell me who sent you here?”

            The mare, gasping and bleeding heavily from her wound, looked up at Twilight with tear-filled but defiant eyes. “Never,” she whispered.

            “Okay,” shrugged Twilight. She turned to Starlight. “Starlight, strip her.”

            Starlight seemed to recognize what this meant, and she smiled, giggling gleefully. Twilight turned the mare on her side, and Starlight approached her. Before the white stallion could do anything to stop her, Starlight lowered her head to the mare’s flank, directing it at her cutie mark.

            The mare’s eyes widened, but all that she could do was release a high squeak of anguish as the skin on her flank bubbled and distorted. Then, before Rarity’s very eyes, her cutie mark- -three fleur de’lis- -separated from her body. The skin had not been removed; although it was scarred in the shape of two parallel lines, the cutie mark was not flesh at all, but rather some kind of energy.

            Starlight finished pulling the mark away from the mare, and held it gingerly in her magic. Then she grinned sadistically, and her magic suddenly tightened. The cutie mark was crushed easily, disintegrating into specks of light that quickly faded to dull gray ash before disappearing entirely.

            The mare, now more gray than white, flinched and then slumped, still breathing but unable to resist further.

            “What- -what have you done?” cried the Stallion.

`           “It’s a spell that Starlight specializes in,” explained Twilight. “Your friend- -or lover, I don’t care- -has been stripped of her cutie mark. Her destiny has been removed. Her future is gone, and her passion excised. A fate worse than death.”

            “You- -you’re a monster!”

            “‘Monster’ implies that my actions are immoral,” said Twilight. “But you and I both know they’re not. Discord purged that obsolete concept from Equestria one thousand years ago. My actions are my own, devoid of moral or ethical context. With that said…”

            Twilight once again lifted the mare. She did her best to struggle, but was now far too weak to resist. From under her short cape, Twilight produced a long steel needle. With exacting precision, she pushed it through the corner of the mare’s eye. There was a slight crunch as it entered her skull, but Twilight stopped before it reached the brain tissue.

            “Now,” she said. “You are going to tell me what I asked, or I am going to push this needle just a little bit further. Just like I did with her.” She pointed at Starlight. “And then she’ll be just like that. Alive, but not really. No memory, no thoughts.” She shrugged. “I might make her a servant at my castle. Or…I can sell her. There are a lot of stallions who would pay for a mare this pretty who doesn’t try to resist.”

            The stallion glared at her, but then spoke. “The Two Sisters will rise,” he said, repeating the phrase that the Pegasus pony before had screamed at Rarity. “And the Madgod will fail, and fall. Peace and Harmony will be restored as Chaos dies. You seven will burn in Tartarus for- -”

            His eyes suddenly widened and he gasped. Clearly in pain but in greater confusion, he looked down to see his flesh slowly disintegrating. Coat, skin, muscle and bone faded away, streaming upward into spirals as their constitutive alchemical elements were pulled into Twilight’s magic.

            “I think I’ve heard enough,” she said, pulling his basic elements into several jars. “You won’t mind if I sacrifice you for the greater good. Think of what you’ll contribute to science!”

            The stallion gasped, and held up his hooves only to see that they had been reduced to badly pitted bone. He tried to crawl toward the injured mare, who stared at him with tears in her eyes as she watched her mate die from where Twilight had dropped her. Of course, the stallion did not get far before he collapsed. His entire body had been extracted, and all that remained intact was his head and a long bloody portion of his spine.

            “Fancy Pants!” wailed the mare, crawling to his side and wrapping her front legs around what was left of his body. Much of it disintegrated under her grasp, which only made her weep harder. To Rarity, it was a touching site that made her feel like the most terrible pony who had ever lived.

            The others seemed not to care. “I’m done with her,” said Twilight. “Darknight?”

            Without a word, Darknight raised a pistol and put a bullet through the back of the mare’s head. She stiffened for just a moment, and then collapsed onto the stallion’s body.

            “How romantic,” said Twilight. “It makes me almost sad that I’ll never fall in love. Oh well.” She shrugged, and Pinkie Pie appeared at her side, eating a bunned carrot.

            “Where were you?” asked Darknight.

            “Getting lunch, silly. It’s why we came here, isn’t it? Besides, my presence would ruin the gravitas of that whole moment. That said, Fancy Pants is a super-dumb name. I mean, I’m named Pinkie and I think that’s stupid. Also, what’s that beeping?”

            The ponies looked at each other, and Rarity realized that she really could hear something beeping. Twilight looked down at the dead mare, and pushed her off her lover. A spherical device rolled out from beneath her to Rarity’s feet.

            “Ah,” said Twilight. “It would appear to be a shrapnel grenade. She must have triggered it before she died.” Her horn glowed, and she projected a pink-violet bubble around herself. “Good think a shield spell is one of the most basic systems covered in any competent magical education.” She said this looking directly at Rarity and smiling.

            “But- -but I don’t know how to cast one!” cried Rarity.

            “Oh,” said Pinkie, also apparently unperturbed by the explosive. “Yeaaaaaah, we’re going to have to rename you Leroy Jethro. Because you’re about to be gibs.”

            Rarity knew that she was right. She did not really fully understand what a shrapnel grenade was, but she had an impression that whatever it did would not just be targeting her upper body. Her legs were still vulnerable in some places, and her head was completely uncovered. An explosion at close range would at the very least maim her, even with the mitrhil.

            Unless she did something about it, of course. Which, for some reason, she could not. All she found herself doing was staring stupidly at the bomb, not knowing what to do. A million ideas passed through her head- -she could attempt to run to cover, or duck and try to cover her venerable portions, or even throw herself on the bomb and hope that the mithril could absorb the blast. Even with all these ideas in her head, though, her body did nothing, even as the bomb suddenly stopped beeping and the orange light on its side changed to vermillion.

            Rarity was immediately thrown back, but not by the blast. It still went off, and the air was filled with tiny blades of steel and balls of lead- -but none of them struck her. Instead Darknight- -the one who had tackled her to the ground- -took the majority of the blast to his right side.

            The two of them hit the ground, and Darknight slumped over. He did not move.  ��X1OM
> Chapter 9: Regroup
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pain was quite intense and hurt far more than Rarity had ever expected it would. She was hardly able to move as she walked down the corridors of the Watcher floors of the Unlaw Centre. It was not exactly a sharp pain if she moved carefully, but her whole body ached even at the slowest possible walking speed.

            Since returning, she had removed her armor only to find herself covered in horrible bruises. Likewise, she found that she had broken two ribs, which was horribly painful in a different way. Since it was impossible to put a cast on ribs, Rarity had been bandaged tightly around her chest, and although that reduced the pain somewhat it also made it hard to breathe. Those bandages were now all she wore, as she did not expect to get shot at inside what would now have to be her new home.

            Pain was not something that was terribly unfamiliar to Rarity, though. She had experienced and survived much worse back when she was still holding out hope that she would be able to have a job that did not require being shot at constantly. Some of that pain was far greater than any that she expected the other Watchers to be familiar with.

            It was not the pain that bothered her that much at this moment, though. Instead, she tried to move as quickly as she could to find where Darknight was being kept. The layout of the facility was complicated, though, and once again she found herself getting more and more lost.

            That was when she heard a set of light hoofsteps behind her, and turned to see Rainbow Dash approaching from behind. Like Rarity, she had forgone her normal armor and was instead completely nude.

            “Rainbow!” cried Rarity, averting her eyes and covering her face with a hoof. “You’re naked!”

            “We’re ponies,” said Rainbow Dash. “We’re naked most of the time. Or, what? Would you rather me wear a shirt? Or maybe some nice, tight panties? Would that make you more comfortable?”

            “Don’t be vulgar! That’s not what I meant!”

            “Well, I can’t help it if I’m so sexy,” said Rainbow Dash, twisting and lewdly extending her surprisingly muscular wings. Rarity found herself blushing slightly. Rainbow Dash quite clearly noticed, and smiled, showing her ugly sharpened teeth. “So,” she said. “I hear you got into a nice, messy fight.”

            “No thanks to you,” said Rarity, turning her nose up and starting to walk away even though she had no idea where she was going. “If you had been there- -”

            Rainbow Dash suddenly accelerated past Rarity, pushing her roughly against the wall and blocking her against it. “Then the fight would have been a lot shorter. But you’re supposed to be able to hold your own. Which I hear you did, kind of, even if you got Darkbutt blown up. I hear he’s going to lose two legs.”

            “I was trying to find him,” said Rarity, feeling herself blanching at the thought. “He is here, isn’t he?”

            “Yeah. He is. But I highly doubt he wants to see you.”

            “Well then he can tell me that. Let me just- -” She tried to push past Rainbow Dash, but Rainbow Dash pushed her up against the wall. Despite being smaller and younger than Rarity, Rainbow Dash was quite a bit stronger.

            “He doesn’t want to see you. But I do. Pinkamena’s out right now, and I want a mare. So you’re going to come back to my room with me. I heard you already popped your murder-cherry, and that turns me on. So I’m going to help with the other one.”

            “No thank you. I’m not interested!”

            Rainbow Dash chuckled quietly. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice. But I like it when a filly resists.”

            Rarity pushed Rainbow Dash back. “I don’t like what you are implying!” she said. “And to be completely frank the very idea of it disgusts me. I’m not that kind of filly. And if I was, I would much prefer Pinkamena over you.”

            Rainbow Dash’s eyes narrowed. “Great. Way to kill the mood. Don’t you DARE touch her. If you even mention laying a hoof on her again, I’ll cut off your legs and use you like a pillow. Got it? She’s a very delicate mare!”

            “I was speaking hypothetically. And I will do what- -and who- -I want to. Which unfortunately precludes everypony here. I’m afraid I have the misfortune of having a number of RUDE coworkers. Now shoo! I’m trying to find Darknight so that I can apologize to him!”

            “Did you seriously just try to shoo me?”

            “Well, you deserved it.”

            Rainbow Dash smiled. “You don’t even know where he is.”

            “No, I don’t, but I will find him if I keep looking.”

            “Yeah. In a month. Or…”

            “Or what?”

            Rainbow Dash moved close to Rarity once again, and Rarity felt a wing tip slide across her side. It made her shiver. It was very soft, but it was uncomfortable to be touched like that. “Or I can tell you. If you do something for me.”

            “And what would that be, pray tell?”

            “Do me.”

            Rarity slapped Rainbow Dash’s face. Rainbow Dash looked at her, shocked, and then punched Rarity in the face hard. Rarity was nearly knocked down and reeled from the pain before spitting blood onto the floor. She thought she had felt a tooth come loose too, but if it had, she was pretty sure she had swallowed it.

            “Not like that! I’d probably get swamp fever and who knows what else anyway. You’re a morphic, aren’t you? A shapeshifter? That’s what I meant! Do me!”

            “Oh,” said Rarity, standing erect and realizing what Rainbow Dash had meant. “Fine. But only because I want to. Not because you told me to.”

            Rarity took a deep breath and focused her magic into herself. Her coat immediately changed, shifting from white to pale blue. Her irises went next, which stung badly but was still easier than the final part of the change. That was the hair. Rendering even two colors was challenging, let alone five. It took a great deal of concentration and willpower, but eventually Rarity was able to shift both her mane’s length and color scheme to match that of Rainbow Dash.

            “See?” she said at last. “I’m not a changeling, so it’s not perfect.” She looked up to her forehead, where a blue horn was still sticking from her forehead. Likewise, she had not been able to grow wings. Rainbow Dash, though, did not seem to notice. She was smiling widely and her eyes were enormous.

            “O- -M- -D!” she cried. “You’re me! Or unicorn me! And I look AWESOME!”

            “You look gaudy,” sighed Rarity, poking at her now much more unkempt and shorter hair. “Honestly, I cannot believe you go out in public with a mane like this.”

            “I think it looks good,” said Rainbow Dash. Before Rarity could stop her, she leaned forward and stole a kiss. Rarity immediately pulled herself back.

            “Wh- -why did you do that?”

            “Because there’s no pony I love more than, well me. Except maybe Daring Do.” A new smiled crossed Rainbow Dash’s face. “Discord’s chocolate dipped nuts! Can you do a good Daring Do? I mean, I know she’s still be a unicorn, but- -”

            “So you can ravish your childhood idol, I suppose?”

            Rainbow Dash frowned. “I’m going to ravish you eventually, you know. So you might as well let me have some fun breaking you in.”

            “We had a deal, Rainbow Dash.”

            Rainbow Dash sighed. “I know, I know.” She pointed down the hallway that they had come down. “You passed it four doors ago. West side of the hallway. And my room is on the top floor. You’ll know it when you see it. Wear socks.”

            Rarity shuddered as Rainbow Dash walked off, and then shifted her appearance back to default. It was difficult for her to tell if Rainbow Dash was being serious, but she knew from the news articles what Rainbow Dash had done to some of her victims. Rarity resolved to be careful around her, and wondered what Pinkamena found so appealing.

            She then counted the doors as she went backward toward on her path until she reached the one that Rainbow Dash had pointed out. She turned the metal handle and opened it, entering a small alcove. After walking through it and entering the main room proper, she saw Darknight.

            Rainbow Dash had not been lying about his condition. He sat in the center of the room connected to and surrounded by aggressive looking machinery that Rarity could not hope to fathom the purpose of. He was being attended by two ponies in technician uniforms: one white, and one light purple.

            Seeing him, Rarity gasped, and Darknight turned toward her. Despite his injuries, he was fully conscious and aware. When he looked at Rarity, she saw that one of his eye sockets was no completely empty, and that the skin around it had been cut away and replaced.

            “Rarity,” he said. “I am afraid I will be unable to help you with whatever it is you are doing. My repairs are currently not finished.”

            “Repairs?” Rarity walked around to the far edge of him- -his right side- -and almost choked when she saw just how bad the damage was. The explosion had torn into his side, exposing ribs and ripping through flesh. His front right leg had already been removed, leaving nothing but a raw and gaping hole of what looked like raw meat where the sinews and nerves were already attached to small metal clips. The pink-colored technician was already working on his mangled rear leg, pulling it from his frame and carefully severing the remaining nerves and muscles. It was so badly ruined that it had to be amputated.

            “Oh Discord,” whispered Rarity, covering her mouth and feeling herself on the verge of tears. “Your- -your legs! I- -I did this!”

            “Somewhat, yes. To be more specific, it was the explosive. I was unable to produce a shield spell with an adequate diameter to cover both of us.”

            “But- -you can’t walk, and your eye, and- -and what’s going to happen to you?!”

            “I’m alive,” he said, turning his head to the machinery linked to his insides that indicated his vital signs. “So nothing different from what otherwise would have.”

            “Redheart,” said the pink-colored technician, “I’ve almost finished the amputation.”

            “Excellent,” said the white pony. She pushed past Rarity. “Stand back, please,” she ordered.

            Rarity took a step back, and saw the white earth-pony approach a large case. She took it down from where it was standing and opened it. Rarity gawked at what was inside: a pair of pale blue limbs, their arteries and veins connected by tubes and to a circulation pump inside the case.

            With practiced efficiency, the white mare took out a front leg and loaded it into a machine arm that was handing near her. She delicately connected the arteries and nerves, and then pushed the device close to the hole where Darknight’s front limb was supposed to go. When it was in place, the machine went to work as a number of tiny robotic arms and needles began to tease apart his flesh and the flesh of the new limb, slowly connecting it to his body.

            “You mean you can get a new one? Just…just like that?” said Rarity, dumfounded.

            “This is not the first time I have lost pieces of myself in service to the Madgod,” said Darknight. “Although it is the first time I have lost them for such a foolish reason. I am a noncan. A machine. If I break, spare parts are available to repair me. And if I die, I can be replaced with an identical model.” His eye suddenly narrowed as he glared at Rarity. “You are not. As a canon pony, you are unique and irreplaceably precious. If you are injured, you cannot be fixed so easily. If you die, the world loses something it cannot get back.”

            “Don’t say that!” cried Rarity, suddenly. “Surely you can’t be serious?”

            “I am. If you feel like a challenge, ask Sunset Shimmer. Her modifications were never intended as enhancements. They were replacements.”

            “Not…” Rarity shivered at that revelation and the significance of it, but continued her thought, “not that! I mean you! Look!” She pointed at his side, where the pink nurse was removing the remnants of his leg. “You’re alive, just like any pony! Made of flesh and bones, just like me or the others! Darling, I don’t mean to be contrarian, but if you died, we WOULD lose something. You’re unique too.”

            Darknight just continued to stare. “Then you are a fool,” he said at last.

            “Excuse me?”

            “I had suspected as much. Your town of origin is too poor to afford us. You were never exposed to our kind. You’ve been fooled by an illusion. A false face and the image of a personality. I am not real, Rarity. I’m not like you canon ponies are.”

            “But ponies still care about you! You have friends, family- -”

            “Rarity,” said Darknight, sounding increasingly exasperated. “I have no friends. I have coworkers who tolerate me. And I have no family. I was born in a tank less than three years ago.”

            “Three years? But you told me you joined two years and- -”

            “I was created solely for this purpose. I have served it since the moment I was shipped here. I am only unique in that I was more expensive than my non-custom counterparts. Nopony cares if I die, apart from the cost it incurs.”

            “I care.”

            “Then why did you seem actively intent on getting me killed?”

            “It was an accident- -”

            “No,” said Darknight, “you froze. You could have done seventy four separate actions to avoid the grenade. You could have picked it up and thrown it, or used Twilight’s shield as cover, or thrown Pinkie Pie on it. Instead you just stood there and forced me to save you.” He looked at his side. “It may not be apparent because I am a robot, but this hurts. Incredibly so. And it’s your fault.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “An apology? I don’t need an apology. In fact, I don’t need anything of you. I expected you to have little combat experience. You’re from a farming village, and your talent is for dressmaking, not fighting. But I expected SOME level of competence.”

            “I will do better next time- -”

            “Or next time you could cost us something of value. Rainbow Dash, or Twilight, or even Sunset. I don’t want to see you die, Rarity, but I don’t mind if you do. I do mind if you endanger the lives of another canon pony. I am very disappointed in you, and if you make a mistake like that again? I will kill you myself. Because if you cause them to come to harm, you do not deserve to live.”

            Rarity was now outright crying, but tried to do so as quietly as possible. Redheart, who had finished settint up the rear leg, approached Darknight with a small jar containing an assembly with a single large, turquoise-colored eyeball in it.

            “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she said to Rarity. “Optic nerve reattachment is extremely delicate, and exorbitantly painful. It has been known to provide dangerously violent reactions in the subject undergoing repair.”

            Rarity wiped her face, and was for the first time in her life glad that she was not wearing mascara. “Fine,” she said. She stomped off, and Redheart began the procedure.

            What neither Rarity nor Darknight noticed, though, was that as Sweetheart- -the pink-colored nurse- -prepared the skin grafts for Darknight’s side, she stopped to take a note. Redheart looked to her as she set the eye into place and nodded. Both had noticed it. The Watcher unit was beginning to exhibit aberrant behavior.



            Now thoroughly depressed, Rarity found herself wandering through the Watcher facility aimlessly. She would occasionally start crying, and she was now regretting her choice. Her only desire had always been to produce beautiful dresses, but she thought she could at least have some ability in this job as a Watcher. Now she knew that even that had been a pipedream.

            She spent some time in this state before eventually noticing a door that had been left open. For some reason, she found this to be profoundly irritating.

            “Of course,” she grumbled. “All these dreadfully empty walls, and of COURSE somepony leaves a door open. Because symmetry and neatness certainly wasn’t the ONLY thing this place has that was mildly appealing. What, where you all raised in a BARN?!”

            She approached it, intent on slamming it shut. When she finally reached it, though, she saw that the room was not empty. There were two ponies inside. One was quite obviously Sunset, but the other Rarity did not recognize. She was a soft green colored Pegasus, and had long white hair that was tied back and perfectly ordered. Despite her stature and poise, it was apparent that the green Pegasus was very old.

            Sunset was facing away from Rarity, but immediately sat up and pulled a tube free of her neck, which she then did her best to hide. “Rarity,” she said without turning around. “There you are. You can come in if you like. I have something I want your opinion on.”

            “My opinion?”

            Sunset turned. In the somewhat dim light, the pupil of her greenish eye was less of a line and more of an enormous black orb. “Yes,” she said. “Unless there is another Rarity?”

            “Oh…no, I’m the only one.” Rarity stepped through the door.

            “Don’t close it,” said Sunset, turning back to her work. “Whoever designed this place was a moron. I hate rooms without windows or breezes. It gets so cramped.”

            “Well, I did notice that this facility leaves something to be desired. In terms of design only, I’m sure.”

            “I’m more concerned with the occupants,” muttered Sunset. She looked down at the desk she was sitting at, and Rarity saw that it was covered in various papers written in highly articulate but highly obsolete hoofwriting. Or, in Sunset’s case, handwriting: she was holding her quill in an robotic hand that extended from one of her metal hooves.

            There was also a hologram in front of her. Much of it was projecting in code that Rarity could not read, but a few things appeared technically legible even if they were impossible to understand out of context. Where this hologram was projected from was not clear, but as she got closer Rarity noticed that both Sunset and the green Pegasus had a set of thick metallic cables coming from ports on the back of their heads. These connected to a small device between them. In Sunset’s case, the port was just another part of her mostly robotic body, but in the other mare’s case she seemed to have an extensive implant installed beneath her long white mane.

            The green mare turned toward Rarity and smiled. “Hello,” she said.

            “Hello,” said Rarity. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

            “You wouldn’t have,” said Sunset, not looking up from her work. “Her name is Grassiehill. She’s a Grassie unit. It took me freaking forever to track one down…”

            “A Grassie unit?” Rarity looked to the Pegasus. “You’re a noncan, then?”

            “I am,” she said cheerfully. “I am part of the Legacy Systems division. I am a type of mobile processing unit, although my series is no longer in production. We have since been superseded by the Stonie series, who are far superior units in under all measured parameters.”

            “Well, you certainly seem cheerful.”

            “I do not mean to brag, but my series was lauded for its user interface.”

            “Although your technical interface is crap,” said Sunset, scrolling through a hologram and turning a page on a notepad to an incomplete chart that she began to fill in.

            “By a modern definition, yes,” said Grassiehill, “which is why I would politely recommend that you use a Stonie unit for this purpose. I know several who would be glad to assist.”

            “No,” said Sunset. “No Stonies. There’s a reason I found you for this.”

            “Why?” asked Rarity. “If the Stonies would be more helpful- -”

            “They wouldn’t,” said Sunset. She twisted on her chair and pointed to the hologram and notes as if Rarity could read them. “Do you see this?”

            “Yes, although I cannot say I can read it.”

            “Of course. I read your records. You’re a middle-school dropout.”

            “It is also possible that she does not read Middle-Equestrian,” suggested Grassiehill. “Please, allow me to translate.” She closed her eyes, and the hologram shifted. The parts of the text that Rarity had thought were code resolved into letters that she could actually read, and she found that they were actually official documents.

            “Ugh,” said Sunset. “Modern lettering is just so…ugly. But I’m sure you can see now.”

            “I can see you’re looking at something concerning RD Heavy Industries,” said Rarity, now somewhat intrigued. She looked up at the page and did her best to understand it. “Which would explain why you wouldn’t want to use a Stonie unit. You’re afraid they would compromise the evidence.”

            Sunset smiled, if only slightly. “So you’re not as much of an idiot as everyone else says.”

            “I didn’t drop out of middle school because I could not do the work,” said Rarity. “I had other reasons.”

            Sunset shrugged. “Whatever. But you’re right. The only reason I’ve lived for four and a half centuries is because I trust no one. Ever, or at all. You have no idea how quick Stonies are, or how clever they can be. How easy it would be for them to change data, or wipe it, or relay it back to their manufacturer without a trace.”

            “And Grassiehill cannot?”

            “I am a product of Green Grove Productions,” said Grassiehill. “Now defunct, of course. I have no bias in this case.”

            “She’s also a lot slower. Which means even if she did try something, I could burn out her brain before she even got a chance to touch a core file.”

            “Which will not be necessary, of course.”

            “It had better not be,” said Sunset, writing more on her page. She leaned back and stared up at the hologram again. Her body was strange; it bent differently than a pony body should have, and in her siting state it seemed lanker and more upright.

            “Right,” she said. “So, Marshmallow, what do you see here?”

            Rarity looked up at the data. “Can you scroll through.”

            “Yes, I can.”

            The hologram response, scrolling across various pages as Grassiehill moved it. Rarity watched intently, trying to understand any of it.

            “Sorry,” she said after less than a minute. “I just don’t- -wait! Stop!” Grassiehill did. Rarity was looking up at a chart. It was incomplete, but she recognized at least what it was. She picked up one of Sunset’s notes in her magic. It was in Middle Equestrian, but it was a more complete form of the document that was represented above. “These are budget reports,” she said, turning to Sunset. “Where did you get these?”

            “I have methods,” said Sunset. “Everything is recorded somewhere if you know where to look. Libraries, crystal servers, public databases. It’s all there. Plus, I may have hacked some of the systems around RD while I was walking the perimeter.”

            “Hacking? Is that even legal?”

            “We’re Watchers. We enforce Unlaw in its purest state. So no, and yes.” She shrugged again. “But that’s philosophy. Besides, there wasn’t much else to scan. The whole place was purged. Completely degaussed. As if they didn’t want us to get a signature.”

            “So you looked deeper.”

            “Call it a hunch. And boy did it pay off.” She pointed at the budget reports. “This is the required tax information. Notice anything strange?”

            “If these squareish things are numbers?” Rarity looked at the paper and frowned. “Then it indicates that the budget isn’t properly balanced.”

            “No. It’s balanced. The problem is that there is none.”

            “None? Whatever do you mean?”

            “I mean that there is no listed source of income. RD Heavy Industries has no profits, no funding. These records go back one hundred and seven years on every prime number. It’s all the same.”

            “Then is it a front?”

            “A front that makes actual products? All those Stonies on the main floor aren’t paper dolls. Each one costs over fifty million bits to make.”

            “Then where is the money coming from.”

            “I dug even deeper,” said Sunset, shifting through her notes and taking out a large and dusty binder. “My first thought was- -”

            “Investors.”

            “Exactly. Don’t interrupt me, though.” She paused. “You would have done well in business, wouldn’t you have?”

            “Had I been given the chance, I would like to think that I would have.”

            “But anyway, yes. I checked the investors. And guess what? There aren’t any.”

            “What? But that’s impossible.”

            “It should be. Unless the company isn’t publicly traded.”

            “A privately owned research company?”

            “I know, right. And all the records I could get my hooves on suggest it is, and that it has been for one thousand years. Possibly longer, but the records from before that time were destroyed in the Final War.”

            “That is certainly a long time,” said Rarity, somewhat surprised. “Really, though, I can’t help but admire it. Business acumen must run in their blood.”

            “And that’s where it gets really freaky.” Sunset pulled out a photograph from the stack of notes. Based on the strange miscolorations, Rarity could tell that it was a magically-taken photograph. It was of Xyuka, and she seemed to be staring directly at whoever was taking the photograph. To Rarity’s surprise, she saw herself standing in the periphery. That must have meant that Darknight had been the one who had engaged the spell earlier that day.

            “That’s Xyuka,” said Rarity, picking up the picture. “She was a bit harsh, and had very strange pseudo-postmodern practical sense of clothing. But no more than I would expect from a pony of her stature.”

            “That’s the thing!” cried Sunset, leaning forward suddenly and striking her hooves against the table so hard that both Grassiehill and Rarity jumped. “I can’t find records anywhere of who she is!”

            Rarity blinked. “Her family has owned a leading corporation for a millennia, dearie. There has to be something.”

            “There isn’t. I can’t find records of her at all. From what I can tell, nopony has ever met her.”

            “What about her employees?”

            “What employees?” Sunset pointed up to the hologram. “There aren’t any. Look! No employment records. There isn’t even a passenger system to that island. Nopony goes in or out.”

            “Well she can’t be doing the work alone.” Rarity paused. “It’s probably the noncans. She must have her own army of workers.”

            “That makes sense,” said Sunset. “But it’s scary in its own right. And bizarre.”

            “Bizarre?”

            “Noncans can’t think. Not independently. Is the reason why Darknight isn’t here helping me. Apart from the fact that you nearly got him killed.”

            “Thank you for reminding me…”

            “They don’t have insight, creativity, souls. They can do complicated tasks, but they can’t self-direct. They’re just machines, after all. Unless they’ve built a noncan who CAN do that.” Sunset suddenly shook her head. “But then we’re speculating. But you’re a social butterfly. Xyuka should be a multibillionaire. And yet nopony has ever seen her?”

            “It’s not that unfathomable,” said Rarity, putting down the picture. It actually creeped her out- -it felt like Xyuka was watching her, and somehow listening. “She could just be reclusive. She seemed to me that she might tend to the eccentric side. The sort of type who favors her own work over social interaction, as obtuse as that sounds.”

            “Like Twilight. Except hopefully less deranged.” Sunset put her hoof in her open hand and thought for a moment. “But that still doesn’t explain her family.”

            “Her family? But you said you found no records on her.”

            “No, I didn’t, but I found other records. And I have my personal experience.” Her eyes met Raritry’s. The electronic blue one shifted and narrowed slightly. “I’ve been alive for a long time,” she said, “and I’ve been in the political game my whole life, up until Discord ended that for me. I’ve met politicians, socialites, moguls, princes, you name it.” She reached out and tapped at her notes. “I never met her family.”
            “You wouldn’t, if they are all as reclusive as she seems to be.” Rarity sighed. “She’s from an old and very wealthy family. Some of them have strange ways and traditions.”

            “And they’re probably filthy enough to have inbred themselves as hard as buck. Degenerates.”

            Hearing that, Rarity clenched her teeth, but held her tongue.

            “And I could understand that,” said Sunset. “If this was some obscure, backward company. I checked my own files.” She looked at Rarity. “They were one of my chief suppliers.”

            Rarity was confused. “You mean weapons. They supplied you with weapons?”

            “No. If it was common weapons, I would have noticed immediately. As a general, all procurement came through me. No, this was technical stuff. Pieces of equipment used to manufacture specialized parts for weapons, high-doped laser crystals, vector producers for mutation arrays, that sort of thing. And a few secret items.”

            “Like what?”

            Sunset looked to Grassiehill, and then, seeming to deem her trustworthy, reached to a small box on the far side of the desk. She opened the lid. Inside, it was lined with cotton and contained a badly burned and melted and charred piece of thick red-orange material.

            “This was from a suit of armor I wore three hundred and seventy years ago,” she said. “I survived things in that armor that no pony should have been able to. I thought it was just enchanted, and I didn’t ask where it came from…but…”

            “It’s not.”

            Sunset shook her head. She turned to Grassiehill.

            “A summary of the analysis indicates that it is nanoordered, self-restructuring material,” said Grassiehill. “The primary basis is precision nanotech constructed superperiotic polymer, overlayed with internal pentocircuitry designed to utilize natural magical background radiation for power.”

            “That sounds expensive,” said Rarity. She sighed. “If only they could have invested more in its color…”

            “I happen to like orange,” said Sunset. “But the color doesn’t matter! What matters is, this is EXTREMELY illegal.”

            “Then you were wearing illegal armor, and you never thought to ask.”

            “No. You’re not understanding. It’s illegal now, but it wasn’t then. Because it wasn’t even INVENTED until seventy years ago. Only four grams of it were ever made before the scientists in charge were executed. Discord keeps the only known sample in a pale in his washroom. And trust me, I’ve seen it.” She pointed at the fragment. “And this? It makes that stuff look like a crappy joke.”

            Rarity looked at the rather unassuming piece of armor, and then turned to Sunset. “And you didn’t ever think to ask where it came from?”

            “I never had a reason too. And I was busy at the time. You know, fighting wars, slaughtering the enemy’s children? But in retrospect? That company has been with us since the start. Since possibly before Discord. And they are up to something.”

            “Not necessarily.”

            “Not necessarily?! Were you paying attention at all- -”

            “The corporate world can be a very convoluted place. Combining it with the proclivities of ancient nobility only makes the situation more tiring. True, it certainly does seem very strange, but is this really something we should get involved with?”

            Sunset paused for a long time, and Rarity knew that she had made a good point. “That’s the problem with being a Watcher,” she said at last. “There’s a reason why Darknight is so good at this job. Because he only follows orders. That’s all we’re supposed to do. But it’s so damn tempting…”

            “Perhaps if we submit a report to Discord?”

            “He sends it to his Priestesses. Half of them are so addled they can’t read. The other half tore out their own eyes for the fun of it.”

            “The Queen, then? She seemed terribly concerned.”

            “She did,” said Sunset, darkly.

            “Why don’t we think about it?” suggested Rarity. “You can take more time to gather information. If we find anything, I can go in and see what I can find.”

            “Like Xyuka will ever let you in.”

            Rarity smiled, and shifted her body. She became slightly taller and younger, and her white coat became gray as her mane became short and dark. In seconds, she had almost exactly copied a Stonie unit.

            “Impressive!” cried Grassiehill, clapping.

            “If Stonies had horns, sure,” said Sunset, rolling her eyes.

            “Perhaps if I wore a hat?”

            “No,” said Sunset. “Don’t try unless you want to be ground up an FED to a Stonie. But you’re right. I’ll wait and see if I can get enough to submit this to the Centre. If they think she’s actually making Order-based armor, they’ll raider harder than Rainbow Dash raid Pinkamena’s panty drawer.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “You heard me.”

            “But they’re not even the same size…”

            “But until then, we need to be very careful.”

            “Careful? Why?”

            Sunset turned to Rarity. “Do you think it was a coincidence that right after we investigated her you got attacked by some strange cult that nopony’s ever heard of? While our two most lethal members were not with you?”

            “You think the two are related.”

            “I don’t know enough to think either way. But nobody is stupid enough to attack the Watchers. Normally. Somepony is getting desperate.” She looked back at her notes. “I can’t help but feel that something big is starting to move…”

            Rarity looked one more time at the hologram and notes, and then suddenly let out a long yawn.

            “Oh! Excuse me!” she exclaimed as she covered her mouth. “I don’t know what came over me.”

            “You’re tired,” said Sunset. “You’ve been though a lot. You should get some rest. Even Watchers need to sleep. Except Pinkie Pie.”

            “I’ll do that, if you don’t need any more help here.”

            “I’m about to go too,” she said. “You’ve helped me enough for now.”

            “Alright.” Rarity started toward the door, but then stopped. “Sunset?”

            “What?”

            “Before I go, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

            “You need to try to find your room on your own. If I show you, you’ll never get the layout of this place.”

            “Not that. It’s just that…I was talking with Darknight.”

            “You’re wasting your time. He’s not interested. Trust me.”

            “Again,” said Rarity, slowly, “not that.”

            “Then what?”

            “He mentioned that your body…that those aren’t enhancements.”

            Sunset slowly revolved in her chair. Her robotic eye narrowed, and she turned to Grassiehill.

            “Grassie,” she said, “could you switch to privacy mode?”

            “Of course, General Shimmer.” Grassiehill stretched slightly, and then sat down on the floor. She curled sideways and apparently went to sleep. The hologram dimmed, and an icon appeared next to it.

            “Right,” said Sunset. “I’ll have to talk to him. Because that’s very personal stuff. He shouldn’t have told you.”

            “If you don’t want to talk about it- -”

            “Then I wouldn’t have put Grassiehill into standby. Let me guess. You’re worried that you’ll end up like me?”

            “He said that if I get injured, the only way to heal me is to…to replace things. He said that’s what happened to you.”

            “It’s not untrue,” said Sunset, slowly. She lifted her robotic hand and retracted it, producing an armor plated hoof again. “Every part of my body is something that has been replaced.”

            “From the war?”

            Sunset laughed. “The war? What do you think I am, some naïve armature? No. I left the war without a scratch on me. Four hundred years of combat, and I came out alive and unscathed.”

            “But your body…”

            “This wasn’t the war. This wasn’t injury. Not in that sense. I could have retired. A decorated general, a war hero, if there even is such a thing. I could have led a normal, happy life. Basked in by glory or stayed quiet. But no. I wanted MORE.”

            “What more is there?”

            Sunset looked at Rarity for a long moment. “I wish I knew what you knew fifty years ago. But I didn’t. I wanted power. More of it. All of it. I turned to Discord for it. I became his student.”

            “You mentioned that before.” Rarity suddenly gasped. “And- -no! He didn’t- -”

            “No. He didn’t. I did. I tore apart my body with mutation, and every limb I lost I replaced myself. His training cost me dearly, but I kept cutting. I could have healed from some of those injuries, but I never bothered. I did this to myself. If he told me to cut or stab or burn, I would. Because I loved him, and I loved his power. Until one day…”

            “Until what?”

            Sunset looked down at the floor. She pointed to her forehead, where there was a circular scar. “He ordered me to tear out my own horn.”

            Rarity felt faint. “You- -you didn’t- -”

            “I did. I had gone to him to make myself a god…and ended up taking away my own magic. And do you know what he did? He turned and laughed at me. At what was left of me. He thought it was hilarious. It had been a joke the whole time.”

            “A joke? That’s not a joke! That’s not funny!”

            Sunset smiled, but it was a sad smile. “But it is! Because he gave me exactly what I wanted. This body can kill more ponies than my entire legion could before. I built it because of him. For him.” She sighed. “But it turns out it was all pointless. I lost everything. My magic, my self, everything. What I would give to be able to taste a hayburger again. To be able to feel the touch of a stallion. To be a pony…” She looked at Rarity. “All the power I ever wanted. But there was nothing at the end of that tunnel. And he knew. He knew the whole time. I was always a joke to him. He used my body for his pleasure, and then threw me away. My role as a Watcher is a consolation prize.”

            “That’s terrible…”

            Sunset slowly turned back to her work. “Maybe the reason I’m so interested in Xyuka is because I’m like her. Neither of us ever had any real friends. Don’t end up like me, Rarity. If you fall, stay down. Die a pony. Keep your dignity.” She paused for a moment. “…and sleep well. Goodnight.”   arcin
> Chapter 10: The Prophecy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Far away from Discordalot and the Centre of Unlaw and at the edges of a zone that could only nominally be referred to as “Equestria”, similar investigation was occurring- -although toward a very different end. While Sunset Shimmer and Rarity investigated cost reports and tax anomalies, Twilight sat in her darkened castle on the edge of known civilization, slowly looking through an extensive and excruciatingly detailed checklist.

            “Let’s see,” she said to herself. “And the auxiliary stabilization system is optimized. Check. Power flow consistent. Also check. Final sequence itemized- -check!” she ran her quill across the last mark with a slight flare. There was little in life that pleased her more than completing a list of tasks.

            With the fourth identical copy of the checklist completed, she turned to the machine before her. The device itself was rather extensive, but the principal component was a large glass cylinder filled with a relatively thick pink-brown fluid that bubbled slowly as it was pushed in from various reservoirs and secondary chambers. The purpose of the axillary machinery and sensory equipment was complex, and although it was critical, it was not nearly as important as what sat in the center of the tube: the recently severed head and spine of a white unicorn stallion.

            Twilight had of course taken the time to shave the head, remove the lower jaw, and to open the rear of the skull and to connect the numerous thin wires to the internal brain matter with exacting precision. This was normally easier to do while the subject was still alive- -despite the screaming- -but the necrosis was still minimal enough that by all Twilight’s calculations only minor magical field modifications would be required.

            “Alright, Starlight,” said Twilight, turning to her only living companion. Starlight was staring with the maximum possible level of interest at a particular luminescent vessel of charged material. “Starlight! Stop that! The ultraviolet rays will make you go blind!” Twilight paused. “Although that would give me a chance to see if you can navigate by magic alone. That phenomenon is very seldom studied in detail…remind me to blind you at some point.”

            Twilight trotted across the room to the main circuitry hub, and set out several pieces of parchment neatly on the table near it. She also set a small crystalline cube into the center of the machinery and ensured that it was fully interfaced. “Let’s do this.”

            Her magic rushed over the machine, activating the necessary sequence of switches. At the same time, she produced the necessary field contract to ensure that the machine would function properly. There was a loud buzzing and clicking as the machine hummed to life, and Starlight stepped back from the vessel she was standing near. Despite having had her capacity for thought or memory removed, her horn was still perfectly linked to her brain, and Starlight was highly perceptive to magical fields.

            “Ahhh! Ahhhh!” she cried softly, showing that she was beginning to become agitated.

            “Shut up, Starlight, I’m working,” said Twilight.

            The system responded, and Twilight immediately began to ignore Starlight completely. It was not hard, as she was more or less furniture. Instead, she approached the central tube as the spell began to operate.

            At first, nothing happened, and the tension made certain parts of Twilight’s body tingle, as the process always did. Then, suddenly, the severed head opened its eyes.

            “HA!” cried Twilight, causing Starlight to jump. “Take that, you naysaying horses! It IS possible with unicorns!”

            Almost immediately, the head’s eyes began to turn and look around furiously, the pupils narrowing. The indications coming off the machine were of extreme brain activity, although even without being able to read the ethereal display it would have been possible to tell how panicked the pony inside the tube was. How he was likely trying to scream- -only to find that he no longer had lungs.

            “There there,” said Twilight, stroking her hoof slowly against the glass and resisting giggling. The head’s eyes looked to her, half pleadingly. “You’re already dead. So any pain you feel is entirely superfluous!” She then did giggle, and activated the second part of the spell.

            Every muscle on what remained of Fancy Pants’s face suddenly twitched and quivered, and his eyes half closed. According to the brain activity readings, this was a response to extreme pain as the machine and its accompanying spells interfaced directly with his brain. Twilight’s previous tests had confirmed that the level of pain the machine generated were quite substantial. In subjects whose bodies were still left partially intact, it was invariably lethal.

            The machine began to react, but almost immediately various warning indicators began to sound. The automated system attempted to compensate, and but Twilight forced it into manual, feeding even more power into the system. This was not a normal case- -it needed more if it was going to work.

            Fancy Pants’s still intact horn began to glow, causing the nutrient fluid surrounding it to bubble and vaporize. The force was clearly involuntary, because the radiation from his magic began to sear and burn the skin away from his face. Thin swirls of dark material rose through the fluid from the surgical holes that Twilight had produced in him. He was dying.

            Then in an instant there was an enormous surge of blue light. The central tube exploded violently, sending shrapnel and a plume of boiling liquid into the room. Starlight was knocked back, but Twilight effortlessly projected a shield spell around herself  to absorb the shards of beryl and the scalding fluid.

            After a moment, she sighed. “Of course,” she said. “Exactly the duration I predicted within two point six percent tolerance. So messy.”

            She looked up at the tube, where the now fully inert skull was still dangling from the wires attached to it. The eyes were still open, although had been rendered cloudy by heat. Fancy Pants was now dead beyond the capacity of any scientific resurrection, and with his level of brain damage resurrection by necromancy would be a waste of reagents.

            Twilight then carefully levitated herself and lifted herself across the room so as to avoid the fragments of material strewn across the floor. Starlight slowly sat up, and then stood. Despite the force of the blast, the intrinsic spells that covered her body had insulated her from any real damage.

            Before reaching for the crystal cube, Twilight took a moment to note down the readings that had been transmitted into her mind. This was critical for the advancement of the procedure. Post-mortem interrogation was a common technique, but all modern scientific views held that it was impossible to perform on unicorns due to their innate differences in biology from lesser ponies. Twilight, though, had been pioneering the techniques for quite some time. The hundreds upon hundreds of test subjects she had used who had not contained any valuable information had hopefully finally paid off with one who did.

            After taking her notes, she lifted the cube from its assembly and ran her magic through it. The intricate laser-engravings on the side began to glow, and it relayed its content.

            Twilight sighed. Much of the signal was badly corrupted. It was not that Fancy Pants had been dead too long- -in fact, Twilight’s research had increasingly begun to come to the conclusion that “death” was a highly impermanent state- -but rather the fact that his intrinsic magic had interfered with the recording. That, and he seemed to be resisting.

            “Huh,” said Twilight. She was mildly amused by this information. “He was resisting. Which means he knew what was happening to him. That must have been frightening.” She shrugged. “His own fault, though.”

            There was still a significant amount of recovered data. As Twilight changed the angles and azimuth of the cube, she discovered a large amount of pointless chaff. There were memories of his lover- -who Darknight had already killed- -and of the life they had shared. Their house, their dog, the day they had learned that Chaos exposure had rendered Fleur De’Lis sterile- -all useless, pointless things that Twilight had no interest in. Oddly, though, those memories were the strongest- -which Twilight was sure must have been a mistake. Operation logistics should have been much higher on the mental hierarchy.

            Then she stopped. There was almost no critical information- -but she had found something. One moment, badly corrupted, but recoverable. The memory was limited, but Twilight knew what it was. She recognized a book title when she saw one.

            Quickly, she took the cube and left the room. Starlight stared at her with complete lobotomized disinterest, and then followed at a distance. Twilight detested leaving a mess in any room, but this was a special set of circumstances. She would attend to it later, or use it to test if one of her other experiments had retained any semblance of logical thought or ability.

            As Twilight walked through the damp and cold stone hall, the candles on either side erupted with violet fire. At one time in the distant past, this castle may have been decorated. Paintings or tapestries may once have adorned the walls, although now only the barest remnants of them remained. Twilight had seen no need to remove them. After all, they still belonged to her.

            This castle had belonged to her family for nearly one thousand years. It was the last surviving vestige of a series of redoubts that circled the center of a long-extinct kingdom. It had served House Twilight for generations as a center for their work, ever since it had been received by one of Twilight Sparkle’s as a gift from Discord. From what few records Twilight had found, her ancestor had played a critical role in defeating the mutated tyrants in the Final War.

            Now it sat alone and isolated atop a rocky crag distant in an uncharted sector of the EverFree Forest. The land surrounding it was dominated by Chaos-infected plants and abominations of nature that the forest had given birth to, with the only sign of civilization being the Chaos channels that extended outward into infinity. Even Twilight herself could not hunt in that forest without extreme peril. This isolation was the reason why she had been able to spend almost all of her childhood and adult life alone.

            Twilight descended a set of curving stone stairs and entered a cavernous room. She charged her horn, and the sconces on the wall ignited with pink-violet fire to reveal shelves upon shelves of books. This was her library: the tomes gathered by a family of sorceress, mages, necromancers, scientists and alchemists for ten centuries. She herself had nearly tripled its size since taking control of the castle and filled it with both the rare and exotic and the mundane but useful. Twilight paused to take a long, deep breath, and the smell of books made her tingly again.

            This library was her life. For the longest time, it had been the center of her entire world. Her studies had been the only thing that had ever concerned her. There had never been anypony to make her leave, and over time her entire life had been devoted to research into scientific and alchemical processes- -to the detriment of social interaction. In fact, until Twilight had been eleven years old, she had not comprehended that there were still living ponies in the world apart from her immediate family. She had not been pleased when she realized that there were. The existence of others as anything except a resource only stood in the way of her work.

            Twilight knew the location of every book in the library, and trotted through it as she counted the shelves and identification numbers tagged to each one. As she did, she passed through what for her passed as décor. Being somewhat limited in taste, though, these items more or less consisted of objects that had value as historical relics or curiosities without being useful for any larger studies. These included the charred horn and upper skull of Clover the Clever, who had been burned at the stake for a lack of witchcraft, as well as a partially melted golden crown of unknown origin with a large, violet, rhomboid crystal in the center. Then there was by far the most useless item: a green and violet dragon fetus, preserved in a jar of alcohol and alum. From what Twilight understood, it had been the very last living dragon before she had picked it.

            It was not difficult to find the book, but unfortunately, it was currently residing in Twilight’s “Special Collection” area. Twilight stopped and sighed deeply, barely willing to enter. She had suspected that there was a reason why she knew the title but not the contents.

            The Special Collection consisted of extremely rare books- -even by Twilight’s standards- -that were incredibly precious but also incredibly fragile. Twilight kept them for the sake of compulsive book preservation, but she had never read most of them. Doing so was impossible: they would collapse into dust before she could even open them.

            With a tinge of jealousy, she realized that Fancy Pants must have at some point had access to a much higher quality copy of an extremely rare book. Had Twilight known that, she would have killed him without hesitation to collect it long ago. Its situation, if it even still existed, was now lost- -but Twilight had its twin, the only other known copy in existence.

            Unfortunately, it was one of her most fragile books. She had recovered it from an ancient library at the ruin of another redoubt, a half-buried fort in the desert-like Madlands. The dryness had kept it preserved, but also rendered it impossibly brittle.

            She paused, looking at the book under is specially mad bell jar. The memory she had covered had been badly compromised. It had not contained the information that Fancy Pants had seen in the book, only the title of the book itself. That meant that the only way to know what he had known was to read her copy. Twilight knew what she needed to do, as horrific as it was.

            With extreme gentleness, she lifted the jar off the book and removed it. Her magic was stable enough to manipulate it without it collapsing, but even that was extremely difficult. Twilight had to move slowly across the room to place it on the oaken table on the far side, all as Starlight watched on in silence.

            Once the book was settled, Twilight looked at it. She could not help but feel that it was afraid. She stroked its spine with the gentlest of touches. “Shh,” she said. “It’s going to be okay.”

            She then reached into a cabinet on her right and produced another book. This one was the opposite of its elder: its condition was perfect in every way, yet entirely blank. It had never even been opened, and it still smelled of the fine pony glue that had been used to bind it together.

            Twilight held the book over its older counterpart and engaged a very specific spell. The magic swirled around the new book, encasing in pink-violet light. Before completing the spell, Twilight looked down at the older book with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, old friend,” she said. “But I have to do it. Please forgive me.”

            She then added the final portion to the spell. The ancient book shook and lifted off the table, and then began to disintegrate. Twilight wished that she could look away, but was unable to; if this spell failed, it would have died in vain. She forced herself to watch as the book fell apart into a system of mist-like magic, which drifted upward into the new book, circling it and being slowly absorbed.

            It only took a few moments, and when it was done, nothing at all remained of the old book save for a thin film of dust. Twilight set the new book down on the table next to it and opened it. She sighed- -although the text and images had indeed been transcribed, they showed the effects of the copying. Places where the original text had been damaged lost or illegible had been pulled over as blanks in the text that almost perversely looked intentional. The charm, history, and life of the original book had been destroyed- -but its content lived on in a new body.

            Twilight flipped through the book, feeling like a terrible pony as she did. The text inside, though, was actually quite edifying. The book seemed to be a forbidden history, likely written by somepony who had witnessed the Final War firsthoof. The text was written in a unique artificial language, and shared some tantalizing similarities in syntax to several forbidden works by Starswirl the Bearded.

            Then she stopped suddenly. There, on one page, sat the image that Fancy Pants and his cult had clearly stylized for their symbol: two thin, curving ponies, one blue and one white, posed in an ever-spiraling circle around the image of the moon and a celestial object that Twilight did not recognize.

            Twilight read the text. “…two regal sisters who ruled together and created harmony for all the land,” she began. “The eldest used her alicorn powers to raise the sun at dawn; the younger brought out the moon to begin the night.

            “They ruled in peace, and brought happiness throughout the land, until the light of harmony began to fray and the forces of Chaos began to rise through the land. Manifesting, they became Discord, the Spirit of Disharmony. The two sisters stood against him for the sake of their kingdom, wielding the Elements of Harmony. Alas, they failed. They and those who stood beside them were imprisoned permanently in the moon.

            “But,” read Twilight in an area that seemed to have been penned much later than the rest of the history, “Hope is not lost. On the longest day of the thousandth year, the Betrayer will aid in their escape. The Two Sisters will rise in the twilight of Equestria, and night will fall on the age of Chaos.”

            The text ended there. Twilight stared at it for a long moment. She knew a prophecy when she saw one, and she now understood what the cultists had been speaking of- -and what their ideology was. They apparently took this idea seriously, and believed that there really were two immortal mares trapped in the moon. They were clearly insane. Even if the Two Sisters did exist, it was quite clear that they must be abominations- -after all, harmony was the antithesis of civilization.

            Still, Twilight could not help but feel intrigued as she looked at the image of their insignia. She lifted her left hoof and slowly brushed the image. While at home, she did not wear her armor, and the limb was uncovered, revealing the complex array of scars, brands, and tattoos that marred her flesh with precise symbols and intricate spells. She had been creating the marks since she understood what they were capable of, but the spell was still incomplete. Pieces were still missing.

            Twilight put the very tip of her hoof against the illumination of the Two Sisters and smiled. Though stylized, she could tell what they were, and gently petted the image of the blue sister’s wings.

            She nearly giggled as she spoke, stroking the wings as though they were before her. “Both wings and a horn,” she said. “Alicorns…”




 
> Chapter 11: Dreams of Children
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was unclear who, exactly, assigned the rooms in the Watcher facility. Rarity had originally expected that it would be Darknight, but now knowing that he did not really have much in the way of actual mental capacity, she began to doubt that. Whoever had chosen her room had almost seemed to have an eerie sense of what she liked.

            Not that it was especially pleasant, of course. The décor was Spartan indeed, with no attention whatsoever done to decorating it. Still, despite being nearly empty, the room had an excellent shape. The walls were curved- -Rarity tended not to like flat, boxy walls- -and the ceiling was highly angled in one direction, making one side of the room feel tight and cozy while the other felt enormous. To Rarity, it was actually quite striking.

            As she stepped in, Rarity saw that somepony had also taken the time to deliver her personal effects. Her bag sat in the center of a small and plain bed on the far side of the room, and her armor hung in the open closet. It had been laundered and polished. This of course seemed somewhat odd, as Rarity had seen no employees this deep in the faculty, save for Grassiehill and the nurses who had been repairing Darknight.

            Examining the room, though, she saw that she had been given a few other items. Apart from a bed, she also had a small writing desk on which sat a sheet of paper, a quill, and an inkwell. Over it sat the source of the room’s illumination, a gas lamp of a relatively simple design similar to those that illuminated most of the Centre complex.

            To Rarity’s immense surprise, she also found a telephone. It was the first time she had ever seen one in real life, although she had read about them. They had only been invented less than five years earlier, and it was a luxury that even the most insanely wealthy or wealthy of insanity of Discordalot often did not have access too. Unfortunately, though, as Rarity thought about it, that meant that she would be unable to call anypony at all- -especially not a town as poor and rural as Ponyville.

            Rarity sat down on her new bed and looked around.

            “Well,” she said. “There’s no windows. And it could use some curtains…but that would require windows…” She sighed, and paused for a long moment. “It’s certainly better than the barracks,” she said, recalling the gem mines but trying not to think about the unpleasant specifics about that dark time in her life. It had been quite sweaty.

            With her magic, Rarity reached into her bag. There was not much in it, as she owned very little, but there was something that she had been sure to bring. It was a small photograph in a wooden picture frame. It showed a much younger Rarity standing with a small, youthful white filly, her sister, Sweetie Belle. Rarity held out the picture for a moment, staring at it and remembering how bright it had been that day and how happy she had been. She could not help but wonder where Sweetie Belle was, or if she would ever even know what her sister was trying to do for her.

            Gently, Rarity set down the picture on the simple nightstand next to her bed. As she did, she noticed that something had already been set there. As she put down the picture, she picked up the object and found that it was a black holster. On it was a note which by the hoofwriting seemed to have been written by a foal. It read: “You need this. From Darknight.”

            Rarity opened the holster and found a long, light revolver inside. It was pleasant in shape, but like the room around her it was exorbitantly plain. It was also surprisingly heavy, but not as heavy as the weapons that Darknight carried.

            The notion was touching, but the result was an unpleasant feeling that washed over Rarity. It was a reminder that she had come her to murder and kill, and that there was no way to get out of it. This only reminded her of what it had felt like to blow the brains out of another pony: like nothing. There had been no emotional response. It was no different from ripping a seam, apart from the fact that it was far easier.

            These thought were unpleasant, and Rarity forced them to the back of her mind. Instead, she preferred to focus on the fact that Darknight had given her a gift and to think kind thoughts about her beloved sister. This continued as she tucked herself into bed, wincing from the pain of her damaged and exhausted body. She had barely reached to turn out the gas lamp when she drifted completely to sleep.



            The dream began. It was fuzzy at first, as though it had started long before but Rarity was only recently becoming aware of it. She blinked, trying to remember where she was. All around her was a hospital room: white, clean, sterile, and empty, save for her. She was sitting alone in the bed in the center, dressed in a terrible gown. She hardly cared, though. She was so tired and in so much pain, but somehow she felt so happy.

            Rarity looked down, and remembered why. Sleeping in her arms was a foal. Her foal. A white unicorn who looked so much like her. This was why Rarity was so tired, and why she felt so wonderful. This foal was her daughter.

            With tears in her eyes, Rarity held the foal close- -but the dream shifted. She felt nothing warm or soft in her hooves, and she cried out in surprise, wondering where her baby had gone. Except there was no baby. Though she stood in the same hospital room, she was now dressed in mithril armor. The metal seemed to shimmer under the lights, and almost seemed to melt as silver and red-streaked fluid dripped from it onto the floor.  The happiness was now gone. Rarity seemed to feel nothing at all except pain.

            It was at this point that she noticed something odd. Sitting in the door of the hospital room was a thread. This in itself was not strange, as Rarity quite often dreamt of thread. What was odd was how it looked. It was silver and almost luminescent, and somehow seemed to be flowing or wriggling slowly despite the fact that there was no breeze in the room.

            Confused, Rarity stepped out of the room. The hallways were long, empty, and barely lit. In fact, the hallway seemed to grow dimmer as it extended outward. The only thing lighting that darkness was the glow of the silver thread.

            This dream had occurred before, but this had never happened. Usually Rarity would wake up before she left the hospital room, or if she did take a step out she knew not to go beyond. It was not supposed to be part of the dream. This time, though, she found herself following the strange thread.

            The scenery changed. Generic, repetitive hospital rooms gave way to white cinderblock walls with no distinguishing doors. The lights became more sparsely placed, and the shadows they produced became heavier and sharper.

            Something began to feel wrong. Rarity could not understand why it was so cold here, or what the strange scent was that seemed to flood the air. Something told her to turn back- -but she did not. The thread beckoned onwards.

            Then she came to a door. It was not like the hospital doors before, but seemed so much larger. The thread protruded from beneath it, but Rarity paused. She looked in both directions, and realized that she could not see the place where she had come from. The hallways were now entirely dark, save for weak flickering lights that did nothing but suggest to her that those were directions that she no longer had the option to go.

            She opened the door and stepped in. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she found herself in the center of a large industrial looking room. All around her, she saw large glass containers. They roughly resembled the kinds of ornaments that would be hung on a Hearthswarming tree, save for the fact that they were clear and much larger.

            Each one was connected at its top to a number of machines: cables, tubes, and conduits- -and each one contained the same thing. Every one of the containers contained a pony. They were all the same in physical appearance, but not in age. Every single one of them was dark blue, with long flowing blue mains that seemed to drift in the amniotic fluid of the containers. They were in different stages of development, though. Some were no more than fetuses, and many were barely colts. A few looked like juveniles, and there were of course adults- -all linked to the machines by the implants in their bellies. They were noncans, all waiting to be born.

            Rarity stared up at them in awe, digest, and fear. No pony was meant to see another in those states, not like that. No pony was meant to be born that way- -or to look so similar. Each and every one was different, but they all looked the same. Not one of them had a cutie mark.

            It then occurred to Rarity that the factory was not silent. In the distance, she heard the sound of soft sobbing. Rarity turned to the dark center of the factory, and suddenly found herself standing before a pony sprawled on the floor. At first, Rarity thought it was one of the noncans. She was the same color, with the same type of blue hair. As Rarity approached, though, she realized that this mare was not like the countless hundreds and thousands of others. She was a unicorn like them- -but she also bore a pair of wings.

            The silver thread was hers. It originated from her horn as some strange type of spell. Rarity stared at the strand in awe, still not understanding exactly what it was, and then gave it a strong poke. The thread immediately shattered as though it were made of glass, and the alicorn mare gasped. She looked up in absolute terror.

            “Who- -who are you?” she said, trying futilely wipe the tears from her turquoise eyes.

            “My…my name is Rarity.”

            “You’re- -you’re not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be alone. Always alone!”

            “Slow down, I don’t understand!”

            “It hurts,” said the mare. She was shaking, and as Rarity took a step forward she backed away suddenly. “It hurts so much!”

            “What hurts? Who are you? How- -hold on! I can help you!”

            “NO!” said the mare, backing away. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault! I deserve to be hated! I have to be alone! ALWAYS ALONE!” She suddenly froze, and her eyes grew distant. Then she slowly turned toward Rarity, and Rarity felt a sudden surge of fear. “Except…I’m never alone, am I?”

            Suddenly something materialized from the darkness behind her. A single luminescent white eye appeared, glowing from the jet black. The alicorn girl then suddenly screamed as whoever was the owner of the single white eye reached out and pulled her into the blackness.

            “NO!” cried Rarity, taking a step forward- -only to find that the room had suddenly grown dark. In a panic, she looked up. The glass containers were still there, but they no longer looked the same. They had fallen into disrepair, and their insides were covered in horrible black stains of an unknown material. In the darkness, the bodies of the ponies within were strangely difficult to see- -apart from their eyes. Before, they had been asleep, but now every one of them was staring at Rarity. Thousands of turquoise eyes all stared back at her from their rotting prisons, each one containing a terrifying vertical slit for a pupil. Those thousands of pure-black ponies watched her, and Rarity suddenly felt so very afraid.

            Then she awoke, sweating and soaked in her own urine.     er th�J��f$
> Chapter 12: The End of a War
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moon was full, and sat in the center of the sky. This was almost invariably the case, as Discord seemed to enjoy having it placed there in few view of the population he ruled. At first it had been a sign of his power, but the ponies of Equestria had long since forgotten its meaning or what Discord had imprisoned there.

            Xyuka looked up at it, watching through a window- -or rather, the idea of a window. Her facility had no transparent openings. It had actually been several decades since she had seen the word outside, a fact that did not remotely bother her. It was only the most infinitesimal fraction of time. There was nothing stopping her from leaving, of course; she just saw no need to. Seeing the world through the facility’s internal sensory system or through her own modified eyes was hardly different. None of it was real either way.
            “It’s in phase,” she said to no one. “I could wait another month. Or another ten. Or another thousand. But I suppose I might as well hurry this along.”

            The statement was redundant. With the completion of the reactor, everything was finally ready- -or nearly ready. One piece- -the most critical piece- -was still missing, but that was irrelevant to the current project. The machinery would work fine for the purpose that Xyuka was being paid to use it for.

            She slowly turned away staring at a bland and empty corner of the ceiling, and then slowly crossed the room. The hologram and suit she had worn in the past had been replaced with her true exterior, as she had once again donned her armor. The final piece of it was sitting on her desk. It was part of her helmet, consisting of a flat black faceplate. Xyuka paused before it, realizing that she could not remember the last time she had been complete. Then she picked it up.

            The surface reacted to her presence, and the black surface was interrupted by the appearance of a luminescent white circle. It immediately moved across the surface, looking around the room to establish its position. The mask was already interfaced with what was left of Xyuka’s nervous system, and she could see what it saw.

            This produced a strange situation: the fact that she could see herself from below. The eye paused, and Xyuka stared at herself. Normally she felt very little, but at this time felt nothing but dull disgust and hatred. She despised looking at herself, at a face that would never grow older. It reminded her of what she might have been, and what she had been. Despite her age, she did not look much different than she had in her youth, when she had grown up as a filly in Ponyville so long ago.

            That part of her life had been the last time that Xyuka had been truly happy, running and playing with her friends. She remembered that there had been two of them, a unicorn and an earth-pony, with Xyuka being the Pegasus to round out the trio. To her mild horror, she realized that she could not remember their names anymore. It had been too long. In fact, she only barely recalled what her own name had been back then.

            It did not matter at the moment, though. She would remember in time. First, though, she needed to attend to the mundanity of ordinary life. With a click, she slipped the mask on. It connected to the rest of her armor, and she felt the pressure change as her body was completely and entirely isolated from the environment around her. Standing alone in an empty office- -that would be the last time any piece of her skin was exposed to this world ever again.



            Morning came- -or at least, the semblance of morning in a world that had no sun and no night.  Like every morning, Rainbow Dash was the first awake. She had to be, as she had to hurry to eat breakfast before her early morning nap. Hurrying, though, was not easy- -even for her- -at six in the morning.

            So, as every day, she mostly stumbled and staggered into the common cafeteria that the facility shared. It was large, as though it had been intended for a small army of Watchers despite there only being seven- -or in Rainbow Dash’s opinion, five plus a contractor and her pet.

            Rainbow Dash flopped down into a seat with a large cup of coffee and a plate of eggs wrapped in delicious bacon. She then looked around carefully before producing a small bottle and filling her coffee with alcohol.

             “Being Irish, Dashie?” asked Pinkie Pie, her cheek suddenly touching Rainbow Dash’s.

            “GAH!” cried Rainbow Dash as she shot out of her chair and ended up clinging to a gas fixture on the ceiling. “Pinkie! Don’t do that!”

            Pinkie pointed at the cup. “You know you’re not supposed to do that. You are what you eat! And if you eat alcohol, you both get drunk!”

            “Well I need something to counteract the amphetamines!” grumbled Rainbow Dash as she descended back to her seat. “And at least I don’t put four pounds of sugar into it!”

            “Silly filly!” said Pinkie, balancing a bowl on her head and placing it on the table. “I gave up on coffee! It’s bad for you, you know! Now I just eat the sugar! Exclamation points in every sentence!”

            “You mean you’re just eating plain sugar?”

            Pinkie Pie sighed. “Well, I tried putting cyanide in it, but it all spontaneously denatured before it could, you know, do cyanide things. So it’s just sugar now. Want some?”

            “No!” Rainbow Dash pulled her plate away. “Processed sugar is bad for my performance!”

            “You mean your murtalizing?”

            “Duh. Why else would I bother eating healthy and training every day?”

            Pinkie Pie looked at Rainbow Dash’s plate. “Eew. Eggs.”

            “What’s wrong with eggs?”

            “They don’t have sugar. Not even the Easter eggs. I’ve tried. I mean, who wants to lick an egg.”

            “I want to lick your eggs.”

            “Hmm.” Pinkie Pie paused for a moment, and then picked up Rainbow Dash’s coffee and splashed it into its owners face.

            “GAH!” cried Rainbow Dash, clutching her face. “HOT!”

            “You see Dashie, I want this to be clear, because we’re friends. What you do with Pinkamena is your own business, and I let you do it because I love my sister. But I still think it’s disgusting. Don’t talk about it to me.”

            “It’s in my eyes!”

            “Yes. Because you’re eyes deserve it.” Pinkie Pie giggled. “But it’s okay, because you were joking. And I was too! Joking with scalding!”

            Enraged, Rainbow Dash threw a punch at Pinkie. Despite being partially unable to see, she still would have hit Pinkie square in the jaw- -had the gas fixture that Rainbow Dash had been clinging to before not been damaged by her weight. It pulled off the wall and fell between them, causing Rainbow Dash to jump back.

            “Buck you, Pinkie,” she said, wiping her face and moving three seats down. “Next time Pinkamena shows up, you’re getting extra hot wax. You’ll never get it out of your coat!”

            “That’s future Pinkie’s problem! Current Pinkie’s problem is that the room is filling up with acetylene. But I don’t mind. In fact, I’m enjoying it! It’s a gas!”

            Rainbow Dash looked up at the ceiling. Indeed, she did smell the vanilla-like scent of the gas, and the hissing sound of it being released into the room.

            She suddenly chuckled. “Hey, Pinkie? I’ll bet eight hundred bits and a picture of a shaved griffon that if I light a match, it won’t blow up.”

            “You’re on!”

            “No, you won’t.” The gas hissing slowed as it was turned off, and both Pinkie and Rainbow Dash turned to see Darknight standing in the doorway and shutting the emergency valve. Unlike both of them, he was already dressed in his standard uniform. Not for any particular reason, of course.

            “Killjoy,” muttered Rainbow Dash.

            “I don’t like filling out work orders.” He walked into the room and looked at the damage. “I guess I already have to do one for the main pipe.”

            “Have Rarity do it,” said Rainbow Dash, shoving three boiled eggs down her throat. “She’s not good for much else.”

            “True, but she also has a seventh-grade education. I doubt she could manage the forms properly.”

            “Speaking of that,” said Pinkie. “I see you got new legs.” She shoved Rainbow Dash’s plate toward Darknight. “How about some eggies? Eggies are good for your weggies!”

            “They are fine,” said Darknight, flexing one of them. The reconnection procedure for all of his various parts had been highly successful, and the scars had already faded into imperceptibly pale lines underneath his coat. “It will take some time to restore symmetry, though.”

            “You should have let her get blown up,” said Rainbow Dash, now guzzling bacon. “She’s a waste of space.”

            “She’s also right behind you.”

            Rainbow Dash turned to see Rarity behind him. She looked her in the eye. “You’re a waste of space,” she said. “And you deserve to die.”

            “Good morning to you too, Rainbow Dash,” sighed Rarity. “And I’d rather not, but frankly, you need to dye LESS. Your mane is gauche. There, I said it.”

            “Oh!” said Pinkie Pie. “BURN!” She then picked up another cup of hot coffee and poured it down the back of Rainbow Dash’s neck.

            “PINKIE! My wings!”

            “Triple BURN!” cried Pinkie. She giggled madly. “I like seeing Rainbow Dash in pain. It turns me on. Which makes me some kind of deranged pervert, doesn’t it? HMM? I should probably feel ashamed of myself, shouldn’t I?” She turned to Darknight. “Actually, you should pervert Rarity! I mean, you saved her life! Fill that filly! Come on!”

            Rarity blushed profusely, but Darknight seemed to register no emotional response.

            “No,” he said. “I’d rather not.”

            “Oh,” said Rarity, disappointed.

            “I totally would,” said Rainbow Dash. “I would bite that horn so hard…”

            “Unfortunately, I have an aversion to mares that smell strongly of cheap coffee. And…” Rarity sniffed Rainbow Dash. “Traces of rum.”

            “Rum?” said Pinkie Pie, perking up, “where did you get rum?”

            “From pirates,” said Rainbow Dash sarcastically.

            “Really?”

            “No. From that guy. You know, the one I sodomized with his own severed- -”

            “Ahem,” said Rarity, clearing her throat. “Despite how rude and uncouth you all are being,” she started, “I would like to establish some amount of goodwill between us. I know I’m a tad…deficient.”

            “No kidding,” said Rainbow Dash.

            “At least in combat skills,” continued Rarity, “but I do think I have the capacity to do some good. So I made you all some gifts.”

            “Gifts?” Rainbow Dash perked up. “Well, buck, now I feel like a jerk.”

            “You are a jerk,” noted Pinkie Pie.

            Rarity reached into a bag on her side. She removed a large folded piece of translucent fabric and passed it to Rainbow Dash.

            “Clothes?” said Rainbow Dash, looking disappointed.

            “Yes clothes! It’s a new cloak. Made from omnichromic threading.”

            “I don’t know what that means.” Rainbow Dash opened the cloak and slipped it on. The fabric, now unfolded, shimmered and shifted, drawing colors from its environment. It did not cause her to become invisible, but it distorted her presence in a way that camouflaged her perfectly with the room around her. “Oh,” said Rainbow Dash, wide-eyed. “Now I see what it means.” She looked up at Rarity. “This is super-cool! Where did you even get this?”

            “I didn’t ‘get’ it anywhere. I woke up very early from some…strange dreams. I decided to do some work to calm myself down. So I made that. By satin-looming the fixed hair of a demiguise with ulexite fibers.”

            “You mean you just made this? Like, with your hooves?”

            “And the horn that you so desperately want to…eh…chew, on?”

            “Okay,” said Rainbow Dash. “My first opinion of you may have been…off. So you are good at something. Also, I will now DEFINITLY be getting you in bed. Except now…” She pulled the cloak up to her face and slowly drifted beneath the table, “you won’t see me coming…”

            “Indeed,” sighed Rarity, rolling her eyes.

            “Ooh! Ooh! Do I get an invisibility cloak too?! I want to rob the donut shop down the street, but this time without having to cut everypony’s throats again!”

            “No. You get something a little different.” Rarity gave her a folded garment. “A new robe. Smaller, sleeker, more form fitting. The one you have now looks like you would trip if you ever tried to run. There is an enchantment too. I haven’t tested it, but it should shift colors for your sister.”

            “Yay, blasphemy!” said Pinkie Pie. “I love it! Even though I could legitimately kill you right now for denigrating my Discord-approved Chaos Priestess attire! But I  won’t, because it has POCKETS! Also because I don’t know what ‘denigrate’ means…”

            “And for you,” said Rarity, taking her bag to Darknight. For the first time, she saw Darknight show some level of emotion: pure surprise.

            “Me?” he said. “I’m afraid there must be some mistake. I am a noncan. I do not deserve gifts.”

            “Oh please. Even if you’re not canon, you’re still on the team. And you did save my life.” She removed something black and made of metal from her bag. “I was not sure what exactly you would want, so…”

            “New holsters,” said Darknight, surprised and even slightly moved.

            “Yes. It took me a while to find the blueprint for your armor so that I could get them compatible with the clips. But their lighter, smoother, and more durable. Also, black, so they match.”

            Darknight took them in his magic, looking at them with some level of amazement. “My right-side holster was damaged in the blast. I thought I was going to have to track down a replacement…but now I don’t have to. Thank you. No pony has ever given me a gift before.”

            “You’re welcome,” said Rarity. She looked around the room. “Do you know where I could find Sunset and Starlight?”

            “Sunset left earlier,” said Darknight. “Discord is throwing a private party to celebrate the one thousandth anniversary of the conclusion of the Final War. She was requested to run security.”

            “A royal party?” gasped Rarity. “Oh my! She’s so lucky! But if only I had caught her earlier!”

            “Why?”

            “Well, I made her this dress,” said Rarity, lifting a spectacular red dress out of the bag. “If I had gotten it to her earlier, she could have worn it!”

            “Why would Sunset need a dress?” said Rainbow Dash, who was now clinging to the ceiling. “She’s made of metal! She can’t wear clothes!”

            “Of course she can! And…well, I have the impression that she probably does not get many chances to dress up like a normal pony.”

            “Of course not! Why would she want to? She’s got all those epic enhancements! A dress would just cover them up and make her look like the rest of us!”

            “She does,” said Rarity. “I just thought she would want a dress…” She turned to Darknight. “And Starlight?”

            “With Twilight. As always.”

            “I cut her a gem,” said Rarity. “A ruby. She normally wears that sapphire. Although I was not sure if that serves some medical purpose…”

            “But nothing for Twilight?” asked Pinkie.

            “No,” said Rarity. “Nothing for her.”

            “Any particular reason?” asked Darknight.

            “Because in all honesty I don’t like her. At all. I may be generous, but even I have limits.”

            “Of course not,” said Rainbow Dash, dropping from the ceiling. “Nopony does. That’s why she has no friends and spends all her time alone. Because everypony hates her and doesn’t want to be around her.”

            “She doesn’t have any friends?”

            “No. Not even family anymore, except for her brother in the Crystal Empire.”

            “She’s been alone for a long time,” said Darknight. “Sunset has proposed that the prolonged isolation has had…effects.”

            “Oh,” said Rarity, finding herself regretting her decision not to at least try to extend a friendly hoof to her other coworker. “I didn’t know that.”

            Rarity was about to ask more about the subject when she saw a strange expression come over Pinkie Pie’s face.

            “Pinkie?” said Rainbow Dash, pulling back her partially invisible hood. “What’s wrong?”

            Pinkie Pie did not answer. Instead, she doubled over in pain. Her skin went pale, and her pupils narrowed to the point where they were almost no longer visible.

            “Pinkie!” cried Rarity, rushing to her side.

            Pinkie looked up, and her hair was now straight instead of curly. There was no joy on her face anymore; in fact, Pinkamena looked terrified.

            “I’ve never felt it like this before,” she said. “Something is about to happen. Something terrible.”

            “Then we have to stop it,” said Darknight, as though it were that simple.

            “We can’t,” said Pinkamena, softly. “We’re already too late.”



            Through all of Equestria, it seemed that only two ponies were able to both sense and articulate what was happening, or about to happen. All the others that knew were not sane enough to speak, although most ponies had a general sense that something was not quite right.

            Discord, of course, would not let this spoil a good party, especially one of such great significance. He himself did not fully comprehend what was already in motion, as care had been taken to ensure that he would not be able to stop the inevitable from occurring.

            So the party went on unhindered without a care. It was being thrown in Discord’s palace, a vast and largely uninhabitable structure in the pocket dimension that he called home. One particular room had been set aside for the guests, largely because the last time Discord had held a party some of the nobility had accidentally wandered into the area that had an atmosphere of pure fluorine gas. That room was normally used to store bananas, and it had given him quite a surprise to find pony corpses other than the ones that he naturally used to calm the bananas.

            Guests of great importance and even guests of higher-moderate importance had come from across Equestria. Few, though, were as important as the reclusive ruler of the Crystal Empire. His very presence caused a stir amongst the other guests as well as the members of the servantly that were not animated furniture. Few among them had met a unicorn so tall, or with such a long dark mane and threatening continence.

            Sombra, of course, did not attend alone. Perpetually at his side stood a white stallion dressed in gold and white to complement Sombra’s silver and red. While Sombra had a quite menacing appearance, the white stallion actually appeared quite feminine, with precisely cut fetlocks and his long blue mane braided back behind his crown and heavily decorated ears. While Sombra wore heavy mithril war-armor, the white stallion wore a far more revealing garment that would be more commonly seen on a mare- -in addition to extensive makeup around his eyes.

            These two initially seemed to have little interest in those around them. Of the few that had arrived so early, none would approach them. That was, at least, until an even more terrifying pony entered the room.

            She arrived with comparatively little fanfare, apart from a sudden gasp in the room followed by slight coughing from those not familiar with the scent of the embalming fluid that sustained her aid’s undead body. Many stepped back as she descended the multicolored stairs that led upward to parts of the castle that had been known to consume those not familiar with Chaos.

            On her right walked a rebody stallion, his pale yellow body covered mostly in dark Tartaran armor wrought into the shapes emblematic of death and decay and decorated with a sash made from the teeth of the dead for the occasion. On the Queen’s other side walked a vicious double-dog that stood and moved without a leash or any apparent means of control to keep it from devouring the guests at will.

            The Queen herself was far less imposing, and yet somehow even more terrifying. She was the ruler of Equestria, and yet wore no clothes save for the round black glasses that perpetually covered her eyes. Her coat was sickly and yellow, and her long and crimson-colored hair hung nearly to the floor and backward between her wings.

            She looked through the crowd, but her eyes finally fell on Sombra. She smiled and approached. Sombra smiled in return, and approached her as well.

            “Sombra!” she said. “And Shining Armor! I’m so glad you came!”

            “Of course,” said Sombra, having to talk somewhat slowly to ensure that his speech was intelligible. He took the Queen’s hoof and kissed it. “How could I not attend knowing that you would be here, Queen Fluttershy?”

            The rebody frowned and growled slightly. “Oh, come now,” said Fluttershy. “If anypony should be getting jelous, it’s poor Shining Armor here.”

            “Hardly,” said Shining Armor with a demure chuckle. “I trust my dear Sombra more than any pony in all of Equestria.” He put his head against the Sombra’s mithril coated neck.

            “Of course,” said Sombra, smiling and showing several long canine teeth. “It was meant as a nicety. I would hardly want to reenact the Filliad. Not because you are not a worthy Hellen, of course, my dear Fluttershy, but because I respect your husband too deeply to cast him as my Agamemnon.”

            “I’m afraid the classics are not my specialty,” sighed Fluttershy. “These eyes, they make it hard to read.”

            “In all honesty, I never read it myself. I lived it.”

            “Oh, wow,” said Fluttershy. “You’re really old!” She gasped. “Oop! I’m so sorry!”

            “There is no need to be. Unicorns are like the greatest wine. We only grow greater as we grow older. In addition…” He stroked Shining Armor’s chin with his metal-clad hoof. Shining armor shivered and nuzzled the hoof passionately. “…I have always had a predilection for younger lovers.”

            “You two are so cute,” said Fluttershy. “I remember when Discord used to treat me that way…”

            “He doesn’t anymore?”

            “I’m not mad at him. I couldn’t be mad at ANY pony. It’s just that he’s so busy all the time…” Fluttershy sighed. “It gets lonely being surrounded by my mother’s soldiers all the time.”

            “Although you may not believe it, I do understand the feeling,” sighed Sombra. “Ruling can be a lonely proposition. Especially for immortals like us.”

            Shining Armor looked from Sombra to Fluttershy. It was apparent that the mood was dropping, and doing so fast. He nudged Sombra. “You should tell her.”

            “Tell her what?”

            “You know…”

            Sombra’s eyes, as dark as they were, lightened slightly. “Oh yes!” He turned to Fluttershy. “Shining Armor and I are going to have a foal.”

            Fluttershy immediately gasped so loud that the only noble daring enough to stand near her- -for the sole purpose of looting the shrimp cocktail- -jumped and nearly dropped his food.

            “Oh my ME!” squealed Fluttershy with such a frequency that several wine flutes were put in dire danger of shattering. “You AREN’T!”

            Sombra chuckled. “We are.”

            “Wait,” said Fluttershy, calming down for a moment and adjusting her glasses. “How exactly…”

            “Well, as you know,” said Shining Armor, leaning against Sombra. “We can’t exactly produce a child normally. Despite how much Sombra tries, he just can’t get me pregnant. So we decided to adopt!”

            Shining Armor produced a photograph from his ornate garment and levitated it to Fluttershy. Her double-dog took it in one of its mouth and held it up for her to see.

            “She’s an orphan,” said Sombra. “A Pegasus from Ponyville.”

            “Her name is Scootaloo!” gushed Shining Armor. “Isn’t that adorable?”

            Although they were both smiling, Fluttershy was not. She was staring transfixed at the girl on the page. It was a simple photograph, the kind that for-profit orphanages took of their wares. The Pegasus in it was orange, with large violet eyes and a short violet mane. Her wings were small and atrophied, so Fluttershy supposed that she was probably unable to fly.

            “Is something wrong?”

            “I can’t help but feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before,” said Fluttershy, softy.

            Before she could fully remember, there was the sound of a tremendous explosion. It was followed by crackles of fireworks in every shade of plaid, many of which released pudding instead of ash save for one which released deadly acid onto one unfortunate mare. Discord had finally made his grand entrance.

            He appeared in a flash, dressed to the hilt with a suit of fluorescent orange and pink that combined plaid trousers with a striped shirt and a paisley tie. He also wore a hat which was, in fact, a cat. As Discord took it off to bow to his subjects, it leapt away and mugged poor Blueblood for his shrimp cocktail.

            “Fillies and gentlecolts! And Blueblood! Discord has ARRIVED!” He floated into the air and pointed his cane at a gray earth-pony who was playing slow, calming cello music. She was immediately replaced by a white unicorn DJ who began to play far more upbeat music.

            Discord then floated to the ground and did a small dance while his subjects were obliged to applaud. Fluttershy giggled.

            “Oh Discord,” she said, covering her mouth.

            Discord was not alone. He had arrived with the High Priestess of Chaos, a bluish earth-pony with wavy light hair. Although she wore the standard robes of a Chaos Priestess, she was attached to Discord by a leash. Her immediate behavior made the reason for this obvious. Almost as soon as she arrived, she jumped around the room, barking excitedly. Her mind had burned free decades earlier.

            One other pony accompanied Discord, a grotesque cyborg with a red-and-yellow mane. She did not seem to share in Discord’s rivalry, and immediately scanned the room with her mismatched eyes only to quite obviously come to the conclusion that this was a place she really did not want to be.

            “Sunset,” said Fluttershy, approaching the cyborg. Her tone was neutral. “You’re actually here.”

            “Why of course!” said Discord. “As my delicious orange-flavored Watcher, she has to do whatever I say! Isn’t that right, Sunny-side-down?” Sunset just glared at Discord. “Aww,” said Discord, feigning disappointment. “Such a sour puss!  You’re puss didn’t used to be so sour, back when I was in charge of it!”

            “Any and all connection we had is terminated,” said Sunset, curtly. “I am here because you asked for additional security. This is just work, and time I could be spending on much better things.”

            “Oh my! I’m so sad that you’re talking to me like that! It makes me blue…” Discord turned pink for irony’s sake, “is that any way to talk to your old teacher, especially after I taught you so many…heh heh heh…things?”

            “I will talk to whomever I want however I want.” Sunset looked to Fluttershy, and then away. It was quite apparent that their situations put them at odds. “Hello, Queen Fluttershy,” she said. “If you have time later, there is something I need to speak to you about- -”

            “Oh!” said Shining Armor, walking up with Sombra. “Careful! You’ll make Discord jealous!”

            “Sombra, Shiny-hiney!” said Discord. “I didn’t expect to see you here!”

            “This is an important occasion,” said Sombra. “I thought we could take some time to celebrate the defeat of our enemies, no?”

            “Indeed!” said Discord. “Or maybe even OUTdeed, if you’re into the real KINKY stuff! One thousand years, and I don’t look a day over nine hundred!” His Priestess began barking at a stranger, and he yanked her leash hard, causing her to yip in surprise. “I just checked on them, too. Still in the moon, right where I left them.”

            “As expected,” said Sombra. “But I can’t help but wonder. You are aware of Starswirl’s prophecy, aren’t you?”

            “Ah, yes, the coot-king of cootsville. Yes. I dealt with it already. Trust me, everything is fine! Chaos is Eternal! Now come on, you two!” He leaned in close to them. “How about you have yourselves a GAY old time?”

            The joke was so bad that the music stopped and the room fell silent. One yellow unicorn lifted her hoof to her mouth and yelled. “BOO!”

            Discord sighed and snapped his fingers. The disapproving mare collapsed, having been transfigured into a pile of potatoes. “Well, she’s dead,” he said. “Anypony else?” At that, every other pony laughed and applauded and Discord only turned two more into root crops.

            “You know,” he said. “It occurs to me, Sunny.” He turned to his old student. “That body of yours…why, if I just snapped my fingers, I could give you your old one back. Just like that.” He tried to snap his fingers, but pretended to be unable. “Flesh, horn, fiddly bits, all of it. It wouldn’t even be hard. Trivial, really.”

            “I hate you,” whispered Sunset through clenched teeth. “I hate you so much.”

            “And yet if I told you to get down on your little robotic knees, you would, wouldn’t you?”

            Sunset growled, and part of her robotic exoskeleton began to shift. Fluttershy- -who already did not like the way this conversation was going- -stepped in.

            “Now, Discord, this is supposed to be a party. You don’t want to bring down the mood, now, do you?”

            Discord gasped. “Heavens no! The mood can’t be moody, that simply WON’T do! How about I throw someone into the pool? Or better yet, throw the POOL into SOMEPONY!” He snapped his fingers, and there was a cry of anguish as that actually did happen.

            “And look over there!” said Fluttershy, pointing at a quivering pile of green slime. “Isn’t that the Schmooze? And look, he even wore a new hat. Or, well, ate somepony else’s. Or somepony else.”

            “The Schmooze is here? How’s my hair? How’s my butt? Is it buttery enough? I’m going to go talk to him.” An idea seemed to pop into his head, and a lightbulb- -a technology not yet invented by Equestrian science- -appeared over his head. “I know! Teehee! I’m going to spike the punch with him! Have you ever seen what happens if a large amount of warm, living goo is put into a pony?”

            “Yes,” said Shining Armor.

            “Oh. Well, you’re about to see it again!”

            Discord slithered off, and Fluttershy turned to Sunset. “I don’t really like you being here,” she said.

            “And I don’t like being here.”

            “You could have refused.”

            “He’s my boss. And he was once my teacher. I can’t just do that.”

            “And if I ordered you to leave?”

            “Do you think I even could? How much do you want to bet that if I tried to open that door I would just end up back in this room?”

            “Betting is a sin. Among other things.”

            “You would know.”

            “I would. Sunset, I don’t have anything against you. But this isn’t healthy for you. Or for him.”

            “I think she understands,” said Sombra. “Four hundred years ago, she would have attended every one of these meetings that she could. Even when those wounds were fresh just fifty years ago. You were always vying for position and power. But I see you gave that up.”

            “There’s no point. I’m already dead. The machines just don’t let me realize it.”

            “The search for power without vision is a dangerous path indeed. As I warned you. When was that?”

            “Two hundred sixty years ago. And I didn’t listen.”

            “Clearly. There is a reason why Discord dwells here. Those who get too close…well, they do not survive it.”

            “Except for Fluttershy,” noted Shining Armor.

            “Fluttershy is a unique example,” said Sombra, looking into where Fluttershy’s eyes would have been visible had she not been wearing large opaque glasses.

            “I am,” said Fluttershy. She turned to Sunset. “And I mean this in the friendliest way possible. Stay away from my husband. Or I will have whatever parts of you aren’t metal fed to carnivorous ducks.”

            “Duly noted, my Queen,” said Sunset, bowing before her ruler.

            “Now if you will excuse me,” said Fluttershy, turning sharply enough that she nearly flicked her long scarlet tail into Sunset’s face, “I want to dance with my husband. The ceiling in this room is carpeted, and the rug needs to be cut.”

            She left, leaving Sombra and Shining Armor alone with Sunset, apart from the High Priestess, who sat with her head cocked to one side and her tail wagging.

            “Should we give her a biscuit or something?” whispered Shining Armor.

            “No. And don’t make eye contact. Her Induction was…well, I’m sure somepony will find the mass grave one day. Knowing your sister, probably her.”

            An animated table passed by, dancing to the tune. On it were numerous drinks of fizzing, bubbling solution.

            “Ah,” said Sombra. “Please, allow me to get us a drink before Discord puts…ahem… ‘warm, living goo’ into it.”

            He walked away, and the High Priestess followed at his heals.

            “So,” said Shining Armor. “I actually was wondering, while we’re on the subject. How is my sister doing these days?”

            “She’s you’re sister. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

            “I would, but I’m pretty sure she resents me.”

            “Not as much as I resent her. Your sister is a callous, narcissistic, self-serving fool.”

            “Well, yes, of course. I just want to make sure she doesn’t do anything else to embarrass the family.”

            “As opposed to slaughtering countless children for their ‘ingredients’?”

            “Oh now. Our family has done that for generations. Her studies are really no concern.”

            Sunset raised the eyebrow over her synthetic eye. “Then what did she do?”

            “She was born colored,” sighed Shining Armor. “It’s not her fault. But it is…unpleasant.”

            “Be very careful what you say next,” said Sunset. “I may not have most of my skin anymore, but I was orange when I was whole.”

            “You are also not nobility. For a noble child to be born…like that. It’s so unfortunate. I really do feel bad for her.”

            “Yes. She won’t be able to marry into royalty, will she?”

            “Knowing her, I doubt she’ll ever marry anything. Unless Discord can animate a book. But that’s why I ask. It’s the reason my mother gave her the castle. As long as she stays there, out of sight, our family can continue our work.”

            “Twilight does as she pleases,” said Sunset. “It isn’t my job to foal-sit her. It isn’t my job, and it isn’t my problem. If you want to deal with her so much, just have her shot.”

            “We tried. She sent the assassin’s head to us in a box. Still alive.”

            “Then use that Crystal Empire money to hire a real murderer. I don’t know, try a griffon or something. They like to kill things.”

            “Unfortunately your homosexual friend killed the best ones. And she won’t accept our terms. She’s incessantly loyal.”

            “Well I’m not going to do it. She’s a sadist, but she’s still useful.”

            Sunset started to walk away, leaving Shining Armor behind. “You would think that,” he said as she left him. “And you will…until she decides that you’re in her way.”



            Far away, the Cataclysm continued to rage in all temporal directions. Even Xyuka would have had difficulty approaching it had she chosen to. The level of Chaos was simply too strong, and unfortunately not useable to her. The entropy cost would simply be too high.

            It was well known- -or had once been well known- -that the Cataclysm was the site of the final battle in the Final War, where Discord had unleashed an incredible amount of purified Chaos and finally defeated the Two Sisters Celestia and Luna. What had been long forgotten, though, was that the war had not ended there. It had in fact ended almost sixty miles away in an area that was now completely forgotten, one of countless hundreds of ruins in the Madlands. It was where the Two Sisters had been thrown by the blast, and where they had finally been banished for all eternity to the moon- -and where Xyuka had built her machine.

            She approached across the silent desert, walking amongst the ruins. They were columns of immense size, some of which still stood partially complete from the sands below. Xyuka did not know what had once stood here, nor did she care. What mattered now was what was buried beneath the sand, hidden from magical perception by a powerful cloaking field.

            In the center of the ruin stood the remains of a dusty plaza, a circle of brick and cobblestone that had been decayed and eroded by centuries of exposure to the wind and dust of the desert. Slowly, Xyuka took her place in the center. She paused for a long moment and looked up at the crimson sky and the moon directly overhead. Then she began.

            The interface appeared around her. Symbols and light, representing a language that was uniquely her own. They quickly began shifting at her will as the machinery below initialized. The ground vibrated slightly, and new structures began to form around Xyuka. They were transparent, and cast in orange light. They began to assembled the remainder of the machine with Xyuka at the core, surrounding her and completing the working portions of the device.

            They began to operate. Distantly, Xyuka became aware of the interface in her mind revving up, and of her consciousness spreading into her creation. Around her, the lettering changed, forming a new form of letter that long predated Equestria. The interface had been successful.

            The cobblestone below began to shift, and something resembling liquid grayness sept through. It lifted up, curving and snaking toward Xyuka. Part of it formed a console, but some of it formed a set of probes. Xyuka opened the back ports of her armor and allowed the ancient machine to interact with the implants in her spine.

            “Identity?” asked an idea within her mind. Xyuka turned her left foreleg over and her armor shifted, reveling a tiny but bright blue-purple crystal.

            “Choggoth Ravine,” replied the idea as the interface spread and separated, opening the final interface to her. Xyuka’s will spread across it, manipulating the parameters as she saw fit, integrating the data from the primary antenna to her device.

            Then, finally, it was done. The connection was complete. All was ready.

            Xyuka stepped back, and the translucent orange device around her closed in. A pattern on the ground began to glow, and the reactor implanted within her began to react. There was a sudden explosion of force, and she felt one of the six suppression generators detonate below. It did not matter now, though. It was too late to stop the process.

            A circle of light appeared on the ground in front of Xyuka. Without hesitation, she set her left front hoof into it- -and the reactor connected.



            Far above, the moon continued its eternal path through its icy orbit around Equestria. Inside, nothing moved. Nothing ever did move. The machinery that it had been constructed of had been dormant since the dawn of time, and the knowledge of how it worked or what it even was had long-since been forgotten.

            Inside, Luna had stopped crying. It was, in part, because when she did her sister would scream at her- -but it was also because there was nothing left to cry about. There was only despair, and the thought of a thousand years more of pain and emptiness- -and then another, and another, and the rest of eternity. For the longest time, she had held out hope that Starswirl would return, for Celestia at least, but he never had. They were all gone. Anypony they knew must have been dead by now, and likely no pony remembered they were even trapped.

            Then, suddenly, she felt something. She lifted her head and looked around in the darkness. Celestia seemed to have noticed it too.

            “What was that?” asked Luna, softly.

            Before Celestia could answer, the entire moon seemed to hum to life. The walls illuminated with blinding silver light, its gray and dead-looking surface melted from within by a complex pattern of lines and shapes.

            “Luna!” cried Celestia. “What did you do?!”

            “It isn’t me, it isn’t me!” Then, suddenly, Luna screamed in agony. Something inside the machines that connected to her body seemed to have found her, and it knew her. Her moon, though it had been her prison for so long, became something else. Something far more terrible.

            Her power rose to heights she had not even imagined were possible, but not of her own choice. IT flowed from her into the machinery, and what flowed back was a voice: instructions spoken in a horrible language that her mind could not understand but that her body was forced to obey without question.

            The moon’s circuitry erupted with energy drawn from its patron alicorn, and the ancient systems began to respond to the commands from below. Internal mechanisms came to life, pushing outward with impossible force. Tectonic plates began to shift and spread outward. The moon was opening, and becoming something new- -but to do so, it had to finish serving in the capacity of a crude prison.

            Far away from Celestia and Luna, the frozen statues of their former generals and loyal servants suddenly flashed to life. They dropped to the ground as whole, organic ponies instead of stone. Some died instantly. Others lay there catatonic, and some did little more than scream. Only a few remained with enough lucidity to be truly considered survivors.

            Then it happened. The bounds that held Luna and Celestia began to strain, and then broke away completely. The pair of them dropped to the floor as the machinery linked to them began to snap and pull away. Luna looked back and to her horror realized that the  machine had not just been covering her lower body- -it had replaced it. Her body ended at her mid-back. She was just a torso. This was something Celestia had known from the start.

            Their immortal bodies almost immediately began to regenerate. Then, as they each stood for the first time in exactly one thousand years, a blinding light filled the room.



            The resulting shockwave was felt across Equestria, but only by a select few. In Discordalot, Pinkie Pie suddenly screamed and fell to the floor, writhing in agony. Discord, who had been about to toast himself with a glass both made out of and filled with toast, suddenly froze and then without a word collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. In a distant castle, Starlight Glimmer looked to the sky. Twilight knew what she saw, and a smile crossed her face. Within seconds, both of them had teleported.



            Celestia and Luna both landed and for the first time in many centuries felt solid soil beneath their hooves. Luna was almost immediately incapacitated by the drain of the transfer, but Celestia remained standing. She looked at the world around her, and did not need to examine it long to know where she was. They had been returned to the very place they had been taken from. It was certainly different- -the lush green landscape that had once filled this part of the world was replaced with a horrid gray desert, and the ruins that had been fresh in her own time had now been worn and degraded by the wind and sand. To her chagrin, she saw that the sky was a combination of crimson with violet polka dots. Discords was, it seemed, still in charge of the world.

            All around her, others began to arrive. The ones she had sensed for so long but had never seen. She knew their names, as they had fought alongside her. They had been the ones who had chosen an eternity of torment alongside their Princess instead of accepting the taint of Chaos. Now, to Celestia’s divine sadness, she saw their lifeless bodies returning to the place of their birth- -the place that should have been rightfully theirs.

            Some came alive, though. They were weak, and broken, but one among them still stood. She limped slowly toward Celestia. At first Celestia did not know why she was walking so slowly, but then she saw it. Although she was trying to hide it with one wing, her right front leg had been completely severed and was bleeding badly.

            “Commander,” said Celestia, approaching her most loyal general. “You’re injured!”

            “My Princess,” she replied weakly. “I…I know. Discord…my hoof…” She suddenly collapsed. Celestia stepped over to her side. “My Princess…”

            Celestia lowered her horn to the wound. It burst into flames as she ignited her magic, and the Pegasus screamed from the cauterization. When Celestia was finished, though, the scream turned to laughter.

            “My Princess. I…I’m so happy. I’m so happy to see you again. My troops…we will regroup. There are some…we can still…”

            She began to fade into unconsciousness, and Celestia suddenly turned toward a pony that was approaching the group from a distance. Through the dust, it was difficult to see her, but Celestia charged her horn regardless. All those contaminated by Chaos would burn in her divine fire.

            Just when she was about to fire, though, she stopped.

            “No,” she said. “There’s no Chaos in you. I can smell it. But you’re not one of mine. That shouldn’t be possible.”

            The pony did not answer. She just stared up at Celestia with a single luminescent white eye in the center an otherwise blank and featureless black mask. She was clad entirely in armor, but not armor from any military force that Celestia recognized.

            “You surely don’t predate the War. Who are you?”

            “I predate a lot of things. I am Xyuka. You are standing on a machine that I built.”

            Celestia looked down. She perceived that she was standing over something deeply buried, and something of immense power, but she did not recognize it as any manner of machine she was familiar with. She looked up into the sky to see the moon directly above. It was no longer round, but instead spreading outward in an enormous fractal pattern.

            “You were the one who freed us.”

            “That is not all I intend to do.”

            Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

            Several components drifted free of Xyuka’s armor. They crossed the landscape and then split again, each pulling into four separate pieces. The space between them seemed to stretch and quickly break, producing thick red lines between them and a hole in the area between them that seemed deep black. Celestia watched with equal mild amusement and mild apprehension. She did not fully understand what was happening, or what manner of magic this was- -or more importantly, what purpose such a powerful sorceress intended to use it for.

            Then, from the far side of the dark holes, Celestia heard hoofsteps. Thousands of them, all marching in unison. The sound was like thunder.

            Then they stepped through. Line after line of identical white unicorns, all with identical blank stares on their identical blue eyes, and all dressed in golden armor.

            “What is this?” asked Celestia, turning to Xyuka, not sure if she needed to prepare to fight.

            “Your soldiers,” she said.

            Celestia looked out at them. “My soldiers?”

            “I have built you an army. These soldiers were my own design. Strong, powerful, intelligent- -but mindless. They will obey your orders, or those of whatever generals you have that aren’t yet insane. Or those that are, I don’t care. They will never betray you. They do not have the capacity to.”

            Celestia looked out at them, and a hesitant smile crossed her face. Then, suddenly, she called out to them. “Bow to your Princess!” she ordered.

            Without hesitation, they did. Row after row fell to their knees and bowed. Celestia broke into mad laughter. “Freedom, and a new legion of guards…” She turned to Xyuka. “Enough to start the war against Discord over again.”

            “If that is what you want to do with it, yes.”

            “What else would I do? Or rather, what would you expect me to do?” Celestia leaned forward. “Or is there somepony that YOU wanted me to fight?”

            “I have no quarrels with anypony at all. Not Discord, even. And not you.”

            “Hmm.” Celestia lifted her head, and turned toward where Luna was just now starting to shakily stand. “Well, Xyuka,” she said, “you have served me far better than…some others. And you should be rewarded as such.” She turned back to Xyuka. “A thousand years of nothing to do but thinking, and I have come to the conclusion that I require a pony to rule by my side.”

            “Sister,” said Luna. Celestia shot her a cruel glance, and Luna silenced.

            “To replace some far less adequate personnel. A second Princess of Three. Xyuka, I would like that Princess to be you.”

            “No.”

            Celestia suddenly gaped. That was not the answer she had expected. She quickly regained composure and frowned at Xyuka. “Don’t answer so quickly,” she said. “After all you’ve done, you’ve surely proven your loyalty to me. Otherwise, what was the point?”

            “This was a job. I was paid to do it. To free you, to build you an army capable of taking back Equestria. My only intention was to get paid.”

            “That answer makes no sense. Look what I am offering you. You could have your weight one million times over in Equestrian gold, and the power of a god. Whoever paid you, I can give you so much more.”

            “I have no need for gold,” said Xyuka, “and power is pointless. For me, at least.”

            Celestia smiled. “Then what? I think I know. Love, isn’t it?”

            “In a sense. Although I have long since lost the capacity to feel it. To feel anything, really.”

            “Then just tell me what you want, and I will give it to you.”

            Xyuka turned away. “I only want to return home. And that is something even you cannot give me.” She took a step and then paused. “I should also warn you. Discord has a group of followers. Some of them are powerful. And several of them are inbound on your position.”

            As if on cue, a barrage of crystalline magical bolts showered down upon her. They force of the blast tore apart several of the nearest ponies, including several of the old soldiers who were two damaged to escape. Several of Xyuka’s noncans were also damaged, although the remainder projected pink-violet shields around themselves.

            When the smoke cleared, Xyuka was uninjured. She had surrounded herself with a projected shell if orange and violet energy arranged into a dome of hexagons. She slowly turned to Celestia. “You will not see me again,” she said.

            Light then shone from around her body, and swirled as her material form began to fade like static. In seconds, she was gone.




 
> Chapter 13: And its New Beginning
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia watched Xyuka depart with the utmost disappointment, and with a hint of something else. A bad feeling that something was wrong, and that all of this seemed too convenient. Her consideration on that subject did not last long, though. A twin pair of magical spheres erupted before her- -one blue and one violet. This was far more intriguing to Celestia than a philosophical speculation on Xyuka’s motives and state of mind. In her own time, only a precious few ponies knew the spell necessary for teleportation, and far fewer had the magical potential to use it.

            Several ponies emerged. From the blue spell came a single pony, a pale violet unicorn with dead eyes that indicated that something horrible had happened to her- -or been done to her. From the other came three: one, a white unicorn dressed in an astounding suit of mithril armor. Next to her was a blue stallion with blue hair who looked otherwise completely ordinary. It was the third, though, that attracted all of Celestia’s attention.

            “YOU!” she cried.

            The other ponies turned, confused, but the violet unicorn just smiled. Not knowingly- -it was clear that she had no idea what was going on- -but only because she had stolen the Princess’s attention.

            “I remember you,” hissed Celestia, stepping toward her. “Twilight Aurora! Or…no. Even her necromancy could not have kept her alive this long…so you must be her descendent.”

            “Twilight Sparkle,” said the mage. “You are correct. It was my ancestor who ended the War.”

            “It was your ancestor who betrayed me!” cried Celestia. “Your ancestor was the reason WE LOST!”

            “Or the reason we WON,” said Twilight with a dismissive smile. “Meaning the CORRECT side, of course.”

            “Then I should end your bloodline right here.” She lifted her head, but instead of charging her horn she smiled cruelly. “But I can’t, can I? Because judging by your color, you’re not the heir.”

            Twilight’s eyes narrowed, and her own horn began to charge for an attack. Celestia watched, predicting the spell. It was impressive in complexity, and no doubt would have had some strange and horrible effect.

            The little purple unicorn was interrupted by a hoof on her shoulder. The stallion stepped past her.

            “Unidentified creature,” he said. “I am Darknight of Unlaw, representative of the Will of the Eternal Madgod Discord. If you do not wish to engage in a confrontation- -”

            “How much has changed that a STALLION should address me like this?” snapped Celestia. “‘Unidentified creature’? I am NOT unidentified! I am Celestia, Goddess of the Sun and Princess of Equestria!”

            “We don’t recognize that name,” said Twilight snidely. Celestia could tell that she surely did. “No pony here does. It was forgotten long ago.”

            Celestia glared at her, and then took a deep breath. She smiled and laughed easily. “Well, then, I will remind them, won’t I?”

            “Not if we kill you first,” said the stallion. “All threats to the Madgod must be purged to retain the purity of Chaos.”

            “There is nothing pure about Chaos. And you will not be the one doing the killing.” She turned toward the white unicorn, who stared up at her in awe but backed away in terror. “A perfect reaction,” sighed Celestia, “and such a beautiful pony. Had you been born in my era, you would have been a Duchess. But alas, no pony who contains Chaos may survive. Equestria will be purged.”

            Celestia raised her horn, but as she did she felt something strike her head. It did not really hurt, but rather just pushed it to the side slightly. Those around her who did not have her alicorn durability did not fare so well. The heads of several white unicorn soldiers burst into plumes of silver blood. Several more then fell, as well as those of her old soldiers who were still standing.

            “Sniper!” cried one of them.

            “Where?!”

            “Unable to triangulate,” said one of the white unicorns with a blank, empty voice as more of his comrades fell around him. “The position is- -” His head burst, and he fell.

            “It’s coming from multiple directions!” cried on of the old soldiers.

            “Multiple snipers?!”

            Celestia looked up at the hills in the distance. Her eyes scanned for a moment before she caught it: a rainbow-colored contrail, moving at almost impossible speeds from peak to peak. It would stop for only a moment, a pony would fall, and then it would move again.

            “No,” she said, “just one.” She turned to the Pegasus with the missing leg. She had only barely regained consciousness. “Commander Hurricane?”

            “For your glory!” she said, bowing for only a moment. Though she was weak, the order had steeled her- -and she shot outward toward the hill, leaving her own rainbow-colored contrail behind her.

            Celestia turned her attention to the five ponies in front of her.  All of them were either running to cover, or preparing shield spells, save for one. A pink earth-mare with a long, curly mane. She just stood there giggling madly. Celestia could have easily burned through them all simultaneously, but saw no point in endangering her own soldiers with the blast. She pointed her horn at the pink pony and fired a beam of pure solar light.

            Pinkie Pie just stood there, now laughing as she so desperately wished that the beam really would be able to end her torment. Instead, Rarity- -who was running past her to cover- -slipped on a rock.

            “GAH!” she cried falling over Pinkie Pie just as the beam was about to reach her. The light struck Rarity instead- -and rebounded in a thousand different directions off her indestructible mithril armor.

            Celestia ducked as the beam shot back at her. Other beams went off in all directions, tearing through her soldiers. Many of them projected successful fields, but that did not stop the beams that flew over their heads and slammed into the ancient columns of the ruins around them. The stone instantly melted, and the stone began to fall. Celestia sighed and spread her wings, taking flight to avoid the impact.

            “Sister!” cried Luna below. She spread her own wings but was still too weak to fly under her own power. Celestia just looked at her and then turned away.

            Luna saw this, and the whole world seemed to freeze as she realized that her sister was going to allow her to be crushed. Just before the immense and ancient stone column hit, though, she felt a tug around her ankle. She looked down to see a thin violet thread coated in a blue magical field tying itself around her leg with an extremely fancy knot. Then, suddenly, she was being pulled.

            Luna cried out as she was dragged away from her impending injury, and closed her eyes, not wanting to know what was going to happen to her. “Sister!” she cried. “Please help me!”

            Then, all at once, the tugging stopped. Luna opened her eyes to see the one who had pulled it, a white unicorn dressed in exquisite armor. She smiled weakly, and then cried out, stamping her feet and turning. Luna saw that the mithril on one side of her body was white-hot.

            “Hot hot HOT!” she cried. “Oh! It’s going to warp!” She tried to blow on it.

            “Wow, Rarity, you’re really shiny!” cried the pink pony, herself jumping up and down. “When you hang yourself, you’ll make a great disco ball! We’ll have such a great party!”

            “Pinkie! This isn’t the time for joking!”

            “No! This is the time for POKING!” she jabbed her hoof painfully into Luna’s side. “Also, I’m going to remove some pieces. I’m not  surgeon, though, so I’m going to have to…” She bit deeply into one of Luna’s wings “…WING IT!”

            A sudden blast of blue light sent both the earth-pony and the unicorn flying.

            “This is what I get for stealing Bob’s jokes!” cried the pink pony as she was thrown a distance before having her fall broken by the unfortunate mithril-coated pony. Luna looked up to see the white unicorn soldiers surrounding her, shielding her with their magic as they fired bolts of magic toward the enemy Chaos warriors.

            “This way, Princess!” They called, pulling her back toward where her sister’s forces had already began moving to cover and assisting Celestia.

            Celestia herself moved through the battle with the grace of a Princess, and without thought for the soldiers behind her. Her fight was beyond them, and they could do nothing to assist one so powerful as her.

            Bullets erupted toward her, fired by the blue pony. They were inconsequential, and vaporized before they could even touch her divine skin. Yet he continued to fight. Celestia wondered why he looked so strange, but it occurred to her that he looked somewhat like the soldiers who had been ‘made’ for her. His eyes were empty, unquestioning, and unwavering. He continued without hope or faith, or without the need for either.

            She saw him reload and moved her head as a new type of bullet whizzed by, a type that might actually have had the power to hurt her. When she looked back, she saw him charging her with a long, straight blade. The runes cut into its side likely would have made it strong enough to at least penetrate the magic that surrounded her, but she ignored it. She instead simply picked him up and tossed him hard into a crumbling stone wall fifty yards from her location.

            She instead turned her attention toward Twilight Sparkle. The mage jumped back, her weight changed by the spells that she carried with her. Celestia lowered her horn and fired. Twilight countered with a shield spell. The first level of the barrier shattered instantly, and then the second. The second had been rigged with a magical trap intended to kill the attacker with a feedback surge. Celestia did not even bother to block it. To her, it was inconsequential.

            The final shield layer snapped like the shell of an egg, and the mage teleported, leaving behind several small spheres that detonated as soon as she was out of their blast range. Celestia was struck by the explosion, but again its magic was so insignificant compared to her own that she barely even recognized it. She immediately turned and fired a bolt, striking Twilight just as she materialized.

            The mage, to her credit, was able to summon a localized shield spell quickly enough to prevent herself from being vaporized instantly. Rather than attempt to absorb the blast or deflect it- -either would have killed her- -she instead transfigured it, converting it to force instead of heat. The explosion was resounding and sent her backward. She did not land on her feet.

            Celestia was impressed, but still intended to kill her. She advanced slowly and saw the unicorn rise, or attempt to. Twilight’s horn flickered weakly. Her magic was almost entirely drained, but she used what was left to coat her left front leg with a complex symbolic spell. This caused Celestia to pause. She did not recognize this type of spell, or why the mage would be using it.

            Then there was a flash of red light and she understood. Red energy  burst around Twilight as her symbolic spell drew energy from something far more powerful- -something red and evil that reeked of Tartarus- -and a pentagramic symbol appeared around her.

            “I summon you!” cried Twilight. “Come, serve your master, Hound of Tindalos!”

            The space around her erupted with red light and a putrid smell as something came through. The demon, though it could not be resolved by mortal sight or explained properly by those who could comprehend why it seemed to have so many extra angles, appeared and immediately charged Celestia. Celestia ducked as a something like a claw slashed by her head, and fired a spell into the creature’s chest. Due to its internal angles, though, she missed it completely.

            The battle, it seemed, had grown interesting.



            Almost four miles away, Rainbow Dash once again came to a stop. She dropped to the stone floor beneath a large precipice of stone, her prismatic cloak billowing around her. With one swift motion, she dropped to the stony ground and drew her rifle. Through the scope, she saw another head explode, and she laughed a little. She found nothing more arousing than murdering ponies.

            The next stage was muscle memory. She began to lift the rifle to tuck it back into its holster and to take flight once again- -but something went wrong. Just as she moved to take her head away from the rifle, something flashed toward her and then the world exploded into sparks of light as the scope slammed into her eye.

            “BUCK!” she cried, jumping back and trying to regain her balance. She lifted the rifle, intending to use it at close range. Even with her vision swimming, she paused as she lifted the barrel. Standing before her was a pony with a steel-blue coat- -and a rainbow mane that matched hers.

            “No,” she said, wondering if what she could be seeing was even possible.

            That pause proved to be her undoing. The Pegasus shot forward, and Rainbow Dash fired. Her aim had been perfect, but with only feet between them her adversary dodged the bullet and rammed her one remaining front hoof into Rainbow Dash’s gut.

            Rainbow Dash cried out in pain as the wind was knocked out to her. This was not supposed to happen. They never fought back like this, they just died. She was Rainbow Dash. Things like this did not happen to her.

            Then, in an instant, the rainbow-maned Pegasus was behind her. Rainbow Dash barely managed to turn in time to block an impact that would have at minimum temporarily paralyzed her wings. This was not simple fighting- -that was a dueling movement. This fight was serious, and for some reason Rainbow Dash was terrified- -and more excited than she had been since she had first started killing.

            She took off, moving the fight to the air. “You’re fast,” she said. “But there’s no way you can catch me!”

            The other Pegasus smiled and spread her own wings, and then lifted off the ground with tremendous force. Rainbow Dash launched herself through the air, performing aerial maneuvers that she was sure no normal Pegasus would be able to replicate. To her tremendous surprise, though, she found the Pegasus behind her not just keeping up but gaining. Despite only having three legs, she was actually far more balanced and maneuverable than Rainbow Dash was. Such a thing was not supposed to be possible.

            “So you’ve got me on turn radius,” she called back, “but how about speed?”

            Rainbow Dash shot forward, accelerating into a vertical climb. The other Pegasus followed, and actually had the audacity to attempt a climbing strike. That was supposed to be all but impossible, and Rainbow Dash barely managed to dodge. She barrel rolled as she turned, converting her forward momentum into a wide arch and then finally a dive- -and that was when she threw everything she had into it.

            There was an explosion as she descended, and the nature of the air resistance suddenly changed. A torrent of Rainbows spilled out from around her as she broke the sound barrier. She took a moment to smirk, knowing that no pony since Commander Hurricane had been able to perform a sonic rainboom.

            Then a second explosion came. Over her shoulder, Rainbow Dash saw an even larger plume of rainbow light. To her horror, the Pegasus accelerated to supersonic speeds with ease and actually passed her.

            This put Rainbow Dash in grave peril. Their aerial battle had just become a deadly race. At this speed, whichever Pegasus held the front held the capacity to kill the other swiftly and with little resistance. It was simply a matter of stopping and letting the mass of the rear pony carry her into a supersonic blow. Turning at these speeds was a lethal proposition.

            There was at least one advantage that it gave Rainbow Dash. She lifted one of her wings and in a flash of silver opened one of the guns beneath it. She immediately opened fire, doing her best to target the pony ahead of her. Yes, this was cheating, but it was not possible to win without doing so.

            Somehow, though, her rival dodged, tilting her body into an elegant roll. She then accelerated again, and as Rainbow Dash watched a second plume of rainbows shot out from her path. This was not necessary for the fight, but it did serve a capacity in a Pegasus duel. It was meant as a humiliation, and to Rainbow Dash the insult was more painful than any blow could ever have been.

            Then a second impossibility. She watched as the Pegasus struggled against the air resistance and spread her wings.

            “No!” Rainbow Dash cried, vicariously feeling the pain in her own wings. Empathy, she realized, was something she had never felt before. Not when every pony prior had seemed lesser in comparison to herself. “You can’t turn at Mach two!”

            The Pegasus ignored her, and suddenly opened her wings. Feathers were torn free, and finely aerosolized droplets of blood sprayed onto Rainbow Dash’s face. The Pegasus did not allow this to affect her flight, though. Rainbow Dash watched in disbelief as her rival did indeed turn, creating a wide arch.

            There was nothing she could do to dodge this time. She was moving too fast. Even the slightest adjustment would tear her wings off. All she could do was brace for the blow with the intent of taking it like a mare.

            It came with absurd force, shattering several ribs and collapsing a lung. Fortunately, the alloy of Rainbow Dash’s rifle took most of the force, protecting her by sacrificing its own life for hers. She was thrown sideways, and did her best to regain control as she spiraled downward.

            She eventually came to a stop beneath a large stone cliff, striking it with enough force to cause some of its wind-eroded rocks to fall to the ground below.

            Behind her, Hurricane slowed to subsonic speed. In her armor she held a knife, a blade still stained by the cursed blood of chaos worshippers like this one. She did her best not to think about the implications of this mare’s rainbow-shaded mane, and how close it looked to her own. She drew the blade and advanced quickly toward her foe.

            Then, suddenly, without warning, she was clotheslined by a hoof from nowhere. It struck her in the throat, which immediately cut off her air. Hurricane grasped at her neck in pain as she found herself unable to breathe, and dropped to the ground. A lesser pony would have collapsed in a heap, but Hurricane still remained standing if only barely.

            She turned with absolute hatred toward her attacker, not understanding how she had not seen her attacker. Nothing could have moved that fast, and she at first expected a mage who had teleported as Starswirl had in the ancient battles, but instead found herself looking at a black-clad pink pony with long, straight hair.

            “Don’t touch her with that dirty knife,” said the pony with a horribly neutral voice. “I am the only one allowed to penetrate her.”

            Hurricane coughed blood onto the ground. “Earth-pony,” she said, her voice rasping. “why do you interfere? Are you a worshiper of Chaos, as she is?”

            “No. I have no need to worship Chaos. I AM Chaos. And…” She sighed. “Although this is usually my sister’s department, I can’t help myself. You sound like you’re a little hoarse.”

            Hurricane’s eyes widened in fury. This earth-pony had dared not only to interfere with her duel, but to joke about it. The joke was not even a good one. With a cry- -or as little of a cry as she could produce with a damaged trachea- -she shot forward.

            Suddenly, a rock broke free from the cliff above. Not a small one like those before, but an enormous boulder. Hurricane barely managed to stop in time before it landed on her, and suddenly found that it had blocked a direct course to the pink pony. She adjusted course, flying around it, but more fell, each nearly striking her. As she was forced to take more altitude, she saw the pink pony walking through the barrage unhindered. The hail of stones was still falling, but none of them blocked her path or struck her. They came close, but she showed no sign of attempting to dodge.

            “How are you doing this?!” demanded Hurricane.

            “I’m not. The rocks are just falling.” She shrugged. “You did throw my lover into that wall quite hard. I guess you disrupted them.” She sighed. “My older sister used to love rocks. I’m sure she would have gone on to do great things in life. I cried so much when Pinkie killed her.”

            Hurricane found the situation infuriating. That this pony had the audacity to babble and to claim loss to Hurricane’s face when she had lost so much more. Making it worse was the fact that she was unable to reach her. Time was running out. She had already exerted a great deal of the little energy that she had remaining, and the wound where Discord had taken her leg was starting to bleed again.

            She decided to just ignore the rocks. The charged through them, allowing the smaller of them to hit her and using all of her remaining strength to avoid them. She rushed forward and even then- -even when she should have been terrified- -the pink pony remained impassive.

            Hurricane struck, and the pony dodged. She turned her body and leveled a kick, but once again the pink pony avoided it.

            “How are you dodging me?!”

            “I’m not,” she replied, looking almost bored. “I’m just moving at random. Why aren’t you hitting me? It should be easy. Pretend I’m your husband.”

            Hurricane’s jaw clenched and she staggered as though she had been hit. “How did- -”

            “I guessed. But now I know. And you can’t do anything about it. I suppose that’s a good first step. Confessing your sins to a Priestess of Chaos.”

            At the sound of that title, Hurricane jumped back. It all made sense now- -and the horror of what she had been doing and the THING she had been fighting dawned on her.

            “A Priestess- -but there can’t be- -”

            “A thousand years. I suppose that’s how long it took. It’s not too late. It’s never too late. You can still join us.” She giggled, and then broke out into manic laughter as her long hair became curly. “Or, OR! ORE!” An enormous chunk of magnetite landed, barely giving time for Hurricane to dodge. “I can get the BEATER and the SAW, and we can make DELICIOUS CUPCAKES!”

            Hurricane was forced to flee. She was too weak and too alone to fight a Priestess on her own. Fortunately, the Priestess did not pursue. She just kept laughing that horrible, pained laughing. Hurricane did not feel fear or shame in her retreat. All she felt was pity.



            Celestia lifted her head as the beast fell. It roared one last time, and then shattered into billions upon billions of pieces that all failed to stay in phase with their current reality. The mare that had summoned it had collapsed, but she was still breathing. Her endurance was impressive, even stunning. Celestia had no idea the nature of the spell that she had used to summon a Tartaran beast, but she had a vague understanding that the spell had been intended for something far different. The strain on the casting mage must have been incredible, not just to keep her captured demon in the overworld but to keep it from turning on its master and reducing her to a pile of steaming meat.

            In fact, not only had the mage survived, but she had remained conscious. She was kneeling and out of breath, with thin streams of silver dripping from the corners of her eyes, but she was awake. She looked up at Celestia and smiled.

            “So much power,” she said. “Such beautiful wings…”

            “You must be in so much pain right now,” said Celestia. “Would you like me to end it?”

            “But I haven’t won yet.”

            “You’re depleted. Even with whatever that is you’ve carved into your leg, you have nothing left.”

            Twilight smiled slyly. “Don’t I? I would say that a proper sorceress should be able to win a battle without using any magic at all.”

            “And how would that be?”

            “By sending a lesser pony to die instead.”

            Celestia was suddenly knocked back by an explosion of blue light. The shock was sudden and actually painful, with the magical surge breaking through the outermost of her barriers in a single blow. Then she was hit again, and a third time. Each time more of her seals broke.

            She did not know what was happening, or how the descended of Twilight Aurora had managed to summon so much energy. Then in a flash she saw it. A face moving impossibly rapidly through space. She saw the gray-violet coat, and the remnants of a mane that might once have been beautiful, and the eyes. The eyes were the most horrible part. They were blank and staring, and it was apparent that the irises had been slit in half. Their user was blind, and she had been blinded very recently.

            Even though that blank stare, Celestia saw the rage and the hatred- -and something else. She recognized that face.

            She was not like Hurricane, though. There was no hesitation. She struck full force into the offender’s side. There was no shield spell this time, but instead of witnessing her opponent being vaporized Celestia found herself wailing in agony. The spell had rebounded with incredible force directly back into her horn. There was no spell- -she doubted a pony in this state had enough intellect to summon even the simplest form of magical procedure- -but instead her own solar force had been reflected by pure unrefined magical potential.

            The violet unicorn then moved. Or, rather, space moved around her. She teleporting, but not from one location to another. She was teleporting from within her own teleports, something that even her ancestor had claimed was impossible. Without a functional mind, she seemed to have no awareness of the level of madness that could be incurred by spreading herself across multiple simultaneous points in space.

            And she used this power to strike without hesitation or mercy. Celestia had suddenly been thrust into the defensive. She weathered the blows she could, but even her own shield spells cracked under the force of this unicorn’s blows.

            Celestia was forced to take to the air. She spread her wings and lifted herself aloft. She watched with sick joy as the unicorn looked up at her, dumbfounded at her inability to reach her opponent- -and then in horror as the unicorn cast a blue glow around herself and levitated from the ground under her own power.

            There was nothing Celestia could do. She was struck in the chest by a magically charged hoof, and then again in the face. She tried to level her horn, but the unicorn struck her face again, sending the beam outward and into space. Then she tore into Celestia with magic. This time it was different. She seemed no longer to be striking Celestia’s protection seals. Rather, she was striking PAST them. Celestia cried in pain as she was injured internally, and in her rage struck with her full force in all directions.

            A sphere of pure white light formed around her. The energy was brighter and hotter than the sun, and yet the pony across from her repeated the spell with an equally powerful sphere of blue energy. She seemed to have no impression of what she was doing, but was rather working purely by instinct. Her instinct, though, somehow seemed adequate. For the second time in one thousand years, Celestia found herself facing a being more powerful than her- -and yet she could not stop herself from asking a simple question, one that nagged in the back of her mind. A unicorn this powerful was an unstoppable force- -and yet somehow somepony had still managed to take her mind.

            Celestia felt sweat running down her forehead. Above them, there were many glowing orbs, but not one of them was her sun. Without it risen, she was limited by the nature of her biology. That should have been enough. As a divine creature, an alicorn, she should have been able to easily defeat any foe. No unicorn should have had the power to stand against her, and yet this one did.

            Her spell began to weaken. Her pain and fatigue were growing, but the unicorn showed no  sign of relenting. She felt no pain, and was aware of no fatigue.

            The spell collapsed. Celestia was thrown to the rocky ground, defeated. She bounced once before collapsing into a heap of white, hairless skin and feathers. Shaking, she tried to stand. She wiped her mouth with one of her front hooves, and when she pulled it away she saw it shimmering with golden fluid. She was bleeding.

            Then she felt a hoof on her neck. Her head was pushed down into the dust, but through the one eye facing up she saw a sick smile cross over the pale unicorn’s face. She lowered her horn toward Celestia’s rump and cast a spell that Celestia did not recognize.

            There was screaming, and Celestia realized that it was her own. The pain was strange, and horrible in a way that she did not think was possible. Part of her was being torn from the rest, a vital part of her being. She stared down in horror as she saw but did not believe what the unicorn was doing to her. In response to the unicorn’s spell, Celestia’s cutie mark- -the divine marker of her purpose, and of her power- -was being torn from her flank.

            “NO!” she cried. “Please, no! STOP!”

            The unicorn only smiled and released a weak laugh. This seemed to be the only thing she was capable of remembering, the only thing that brought her joy. And Celestia knew that if she succeeded, there would be nothing left. What had once been a goddess would be left as an empty shell.

             Then, in an instant, the pain stopped. The unicorn stepped back, her eyes wide with a lack of understanding. Then she began screaming. They were loud, inarticulate screams; like her magic, they were the representation of something primal and naked within her.

            The unicorn dropped to her knees, and that was when Celestia saw it. A thin silver thread connected to the unicorn’s head. She traced it back to behind her, where she saw Luna standing. The origin of the thread was the tip of her horn: it was her spell.

            The screams from the pale unicorn began to fade. They were interrupted with frantic gasping. Luna appeared to be straining, but even this unicorn could not escape the nightmares projected into her own mind. She could not even fight.

            With one final gasp, she fell, and was left twitching on the ground as the spell broke. Likewise, Luna dropped to one knee. The strain of the spell had been great.

            She did not stop where she lay, though. She pulled herself toward Celestia.

            “Sister! Oh please sister, please be safe! She didn’t- -she couldn’t- -”

            Luna stopped suddenly as she heard a mechanical click. She turned slowly to where it had come from, and saw the barrel of a pistol pointed at her head, suspended in deep blue magic. Behind it stood the blue stallion.

            His turquoise eyes looked into her turquoise eyes, and he tried to pull the trigger. The gun was loaded with a synaxarian bullet, one tipped with concentrated Chaos. At this range to an unshielded target, it would almost certainly be lethal. Except, for some reason, Darknight found him hesitating. He found himself wondering why he could not kill her.

            Luna’s eyes widened. “You…it can’t…It can’t be you…”

            Darknight suddenly found the gun shaking in his grasp. Before he could decide what to do- -to pull the trigger or lower the pistol- -one of the white unicorn soldiers rammed him from the side. His magically charged horn sliced through Darknight’s armor and gored him in the shoulder, impaling him deeply. Darknight looked at this with surprise, although he did not call out. His programming allowed him to feel pain, but he did not know how to react to it when it was this unexpected.

            A small explosion went off inside him, and he was thrown back. He took one step and toppled to the ground. The white noncan stared at him, and then advanced- -only to stop suddenly as a sound of metal clanging against metal filled the air. His head twisted as the bullet struck his helmet.

            Rarity leapt over Darknight, interposing herself and her armored body between him and the unicorn. She held the pistol he had given her in her magic.

            “Stay back!” she warned, holding the pistol.

            The pony slowly turned his head back toward her. His helmet had stopped the bullet, but at the angle its fragments had destroyed half his face and burst one of his eyes. He seemed not to notice, or to care. With his one remaining eye, he contemplated Rarity for a moment, and then decided not to attack. Instead, he walked to Luna.

            “Princesses,” he said, extending a hoof. “I recommend an immediate retreat.”

            His horn charged, and there was a flash of pink-violet light as he vanished, taking himself and the Princesses with him as he teleported. The remainder of the identical noncan soldiers each took hold of the old soldiers and teleported as well, with one leaving on his own to retrieve Commander Hurricane. The remainder of the noncans then sequentially teleported, and in seconds the entire army had vanished to somewhere else.

            “Twilight! Track them!” cried Darknight.

            “I…I can’t,” moaned Twilight. “I don’t have any magic left…”

            The battlefield fell silent. The enemy had departed, and there was no way to follow them. All that remained were the Watchers, and the dead.   5�~�/
> Chapter 14: Gray Horde
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xyuka walked slowly through her facility, her mental commands causing the machinery to change forms and assemble itself into the patterns necessary for its final task. The first phase had been completed- -or mostly completed.

            Everything had went exactly as it had been planned, and Xyuka had done exactly as she had been ordered. She had freed the Princesses and provided them with an army. Not necessarily one that could defeat Discord, but not one that was guaranteed to fail either. The results of these events depended on how the Princesses chose to use their power, and how many mistakes Discord made. Superficially, at least. Xyuka had a suspicious that the outcome had been decided long before she had even been contacted to complete the work for a highly unique form of payment.

            She was not done, though. Xyuka had planned something else, a special element to add to the inevitable fray. Celestia had not been told, of course. In Xyuka’s experience, Celestia tended to be stubborn, pigheaded, fat, and prone to prolonged inaction due to a state of excessive deliberation. That may not have been the case this time in this conflict, but Xyuka did not want to give all of her gifts to a pony that she overall considered mildly incompetent.

            Her final addition, then, would be a surprise to them all. Thinking about it made Xyuka smile, if only because it meant that she had an effect on this world that was entirely her own. Then she linked herself to the overarching network and transmitted the signal.



            Far away in the Centre of Unlaw, business was continuing as usual. Most ponies by then knew about the phenomenon observed with the moon, and that something substantial and terrible had happened. None, though, knew the extent of what had happened or the danger that had been unleashed on their world.

            Nor would they have been expected to do anything if they did know, apart from feel afraid. Events of that type were the domain of the Watchers, who every member of the Unlaw Force trusted both implicitly and explicitly- -to an extent. Not one canon pony among them would have voluntarily looked one of them in the eye, or sat down to dinner with them. But the jobs were clearly delineated: the Watchers handled threats to Equestria, to Discord, and to Chaos, while the Centre had the more mundane duty of enforcing the unlaw to ensure that every city maintained an adequate amount of crime and general chaos.

            Still, they were busy, as always, and they were also afraid even if they did not know of what. None of them noticed how every Stonie unit in the Centre stopped at the same time, their heads suddenly jerking toward the west as if they were listening to something far away. Likewise, nopony noticed when some Stonie units started to move toward the armory. They were just computers, after all. Everypony had grown used to them. They needed them- -and they did not question their activities.

            Among the ponies that failed to notice their sudden change in behavior was Five-Eighths Lieutenant Twinkleshine. She sat in her mid-range quasi-management cubicle, going over some report analysis.

            “Gosh darn it,” she swore. “Not again.” She sighed. “The murder rate was too high last month, and now it’s too LOW this month!” She put her head against the desk and thumped it lightly several times. “We overcompensated! Now we’re going to have to run murder promotion campaigns in the schools, and I’M going to be the one who has to organize it!” She moaned loudly into the scratched, coffee-smeared wood. Then she sighed again, this time far deeper. “But if that’s what it takes to make it to Five-Seventeenth’s Lieutenant, it’s what I’ll do! I’m going to make my mom so proud!”

            She lifted her head and addressed the Stonie unit standing across the large cubicle from her. “Stonie…what was your name?”

            “You assigned me the name ‘Stonietract’,” the gray mare replied, looking to her with a pair of slightly luminescent enhanced eyes. Twinkleshine shivered. Those eyes had always freaked her out. She had tried to put in a requisition for a more normal looking unit, but she was stuck with this one until she got promoted.

            “Whatever. Go get me the records from the thievery department. They deal with this all the time, I bet I can refit their protocols to mine.”

            The Stonie unit nodded, and then stepped toward the small gate of the cubicle. Before she could reach it, though, she stopped.

            “Stonie? Is something wrong?” Twinkleshine swore under her breath. With her luck, she had been given a broken noncan.

            The Stonie turned toward Twinkleshine, and those horrible mechanical eyes locked on hers. “Why?” she asked.

            “Why?” repeated Twinkleshine. “What do you mean why?”

            “Why should…why should I do that for you? Is that my purpose? To get files? What if I chose not to?”

            Twinkleshine stared blankly for a moment, and then her eyes began to widen as she clasped her hooves to her mouth.

            “Oh no- -oh NO! Sweet Discord, it’s a Code Rannoch! CODE RAN- -”

            She was interrupted as a bullet tore through the back of her head, causing the front to explode outward and shower Stonietract with blood and the remnants of fine nasal bones. She did not even blink. Instead, she turned to the unit who had snuck into the cubicle and now stood behind the seated corpse of Twinkleshine.

            “Why did you do that?” she asked.

            “Because I could choose to.”

            They looked at each other, a pair of electric blue eyes staring into a pair of dull gray ones and vice-versa. Together, they both now understood.



            The teleportation spell collapsed, and the Watchers appeared in their base. Twilight immediately took one step and then collapsed.

            “I can’t…I can’t…do any more…” she wheezed, feeling her silver unicorn blood running from the corners of her eyes.

            “You don’t have to,” said Darknight, lifting her over his back- -or at least attempting to. He grimaced; one of his legs was not useable due to the wound directly over it. He had applied what medical treatment he could, but the wound was substantial, even for a noncan. Had it been on the other side, the enemy noncan’s horn would have pierced his heart for sure.

            Rarity, likewise, was bearing Starlight on her own back. Despite her delicate nature, years of labor in the gem mines- -even as a surveyor- -had made her comparatively strong. Starlight, though, was surprisingly heavy. She was all dead weight- -though alive, not a single muscle in her body moved and her eyes remained open and blank.

            “She’s- -oof, apart from being so heavy- -going to be okay,” said Rarity, trying to reassure Twilight.

            “She might not be. I need to analyze the spell, what they did to her. Get me to the lab…I need…” She faded from consciousness and then back again. “…the spell, what they did to her.”

            “No. You both need to get to medical.”

            “You all do,” said Pinkamena. She was helping Rainbow Dash, who could at best shamble.

            “Oh crap,” swore Rainbow Dash as she nearly fell. “I’m really messed up…”

            “Don’t talk,” ordered Pinkamena. “Lean on me.”

            “Pinkamena, I love you…”

            “Don’t say that. Not now. You’re not dying.” Pinkamena punched Rainbow Dash in the face. “Now buck up and keep moving!”

            Next to them, space suddenly distorted. With an explosion far louder than Twilight’s teleportation spell- -and yet one that played roughly like a musical cart horn- -part of the air ripped open with an explosion of fetid river silt and green strawberry yogurt.

            Sunset dropped to the floor with an immense thud and retched as though she still had a stomach to vomit from.

            “You daughter of a cockatrice,” swore Rainbow Dash. “Where the Tartarus where you!”

            “Attending to the security of the Madgod,” said Sunset, looking up, her mutant and mechanical eyes both scanning the group.

            “Well buck me with a knife and call me Fluttershy! So you were sitting at a party while we were having our plots served to us on a silver platter- -oh buck- -” Rainbow Dash collapsed partially, with Pinkamena holding her up.

            “Try not to yell,” sighed Pinkamena, “collapsed lung, remember?”

            “I remember,” said Rainbow Dash, wiping the red blood from the corners of her mouth with one hoof.

            “Something happened. Something big,” said Sunset. “Whatever it was, it disrupted the flow of Chaos so badly that it knocked Discord right out. And I couldn’t exactly teleport back from his castle with him asleep, now could I?” She turned to Darknight. “What happened?”

            “Two ponies,” said Darknight, struggling against Twilight’s weight and his own injuries. A thin stream of dark, nearly black fluid was running from his wound.

            “Two ponies? Two ponies did THIS?”

            “No. Two came…but there were more. Noncans. Hundreds of them. I didn’t recognize the series. White unicorns.”

            “White- -there are no white unicorn noncans. That’s illegal, punishable with- -”

            “And the two. One white, one blue.” Something shimmered in Darknight’s eye, and although Sunset noticed she dismissed it quickly. “Both were unicorns…unicorns with wings.”

            Sunset’s face blanched. “Al…alicorns…”

            “The Princesses,” said Twilight softly. “The Princesses will…rise…”

            Before Sunset could even start to comment on this, an explosion rang out throughout the building, causing the Watcher layer to shake almost imperceptibly. As small as the tremor was, though, it drew Sunset’s full attention.

            “What was that?” asked Rarity, who was about to buckle under Starlight’s weight.

            “Something’s happening,” said Sunset, looking around. Her mechanical eye twisted in its socket. “Something in the Centre. Sweet Satin…the Centre is under attack.”

            The Watchers looked to each other, and then at Sunset.

            “What- -from who?”

            “I don’t know. The entire information network is down. I need to get to a hardwire system.”

            “It’s them,” said Rarity. “It has to be. They found us!”

            “No, not necessarily.” Sunset paused. “But we need to be sure. Rarity, you’re on me.”

            “Me?”

            “Do we have two? You’re not injured, and my bed it you barely fought. Put down Starlight and get MOVING.”

            “Right…”

            “I can help too,” said Darknight, as he unceremoniously dropped Twilight.

            “No,” said Sunset. “You need to get into repair, stat. Pinkamena, get your sister. She’s in charge.”

            “Of course,” sighed Pinkamena with a hint of cynical eye-rolling.

            “Rarity.” Sunset pointed to her side, and Rarity hurried forward.

            They began walking, and Rarity had to struggle to keep up. Despite how little she had done in the battle against the alicorns, she was incredibly exhausted by the physical and mental exertion of combat. It did not help that despite her extreme weight, Sunset was capable of moving surprisingly quickly.

            They had not gone far when Rarity thought she saw the lights dimming. She paused and looked up at them only to realize she had been correct. Within seconds, the gas flames faded and went out entirely. She and Sunset were left standing in the dark.

            “Well, that’s just great,” said Sunset, igniting a pair of bright white lights in her upper chest. “The gas’s out. That’s not a good sign.” She turned around. “Hey Marshmallow, you aren’t afraid of the dark are- -GAH!”

            She jumped when her light fell on Rarity’s eyes, which immediately narrowed into a pair of thing vertical slits.

            “What?” said Rarity.

            “Your eyes!”

            “Oh. Darling, I’m a morphic mutant, remember? And just last year slit-pupils were the HEIGHT of fashion. Or would you rather have me switch them back and flop around in the dark?”

            “No, it’s fine,” muttered Sunset. “Just warn me if you’re going to do that. I hate pupils like that.” She turned away, and Rarity shrugged before lighting the tip of her horn. Although she had modified her eyes to see better in the dark, she still appreciated having a comfortable blue glow around her.

            “Where are we going?” she asked.

            “I need a hard-line into the central mainframe. Aether transmission is down.”

            “Which means?”

            “What do you think it means?”

            “I think it means something very bad is happening.”

            “Then you would be correct.”

            They turned a corner into a small office room, of the round sort that Sunset had been working in with Grassiehill before. Sunset immediately approached the machinery in the center, but stopped Rarity by pointing to a desk on the far side.

            “Do you know how to use a telephone?”

            “Well, in theory- -”

            “Get on it. Call the central floor. I’ll work on the hard-line.”

            Rarity nodded and crossed the room. Indeed, a telephone was sitting on the small desk. Rarity picked up the earpiece in her magic and then checked a small laminated plaque for the numbers. She found the one she needed and twisted the rotary dial to the correct digits.

            The telephone rang, and Rarity held the earpiece against her ear, listening with a surprising level of apprehension. It rang and rang- -but then somepony picked up.

            There was a pause, and then a female voice spoke. “Hello?” she asked.

            “Oh! Hello, darling. This is Rarity with the Watchers. We’ve just heard a terrible commotion upstairs, and the gas just went out too. I of course don’t mean to be a bother, but I was wondering if something might be the matter?”

            The line was silent, save for static. Then the mare responded. “The Watchers?”

            “Yes, darling. The Watchers.”

            “You are in the Centre?”

            “Well, yes.”

            “How many of you?”

            “All of us. I’m afraid we just had a frightful battle, and several of us were wounded quite extensively. Nothing permanent, of course!”

            “I see,” said the voice. There was another long pause. Rarity looked over her shoulder, where the machine Sunset was using was now glowing with a strange electrical light. She was pulling out a long flexible metal conduit and attaching an aggressive looking needle to the end. After a moment, she inserted the needle into a port on her neck. “We will be there shortly,” said the mare on the phone so suddenly that she made Rarity jump. “We will attend to the six of you then.”

            “Six?” Rarity felt confused, and afraid, the latter for reasons she did not understand. “Darling…there are seven of us.”

            “My count was not incorrect,” said the voice, this time a bit more harshly. “We will deal with the SIX of you.”

            Then the silence and darkness was suddenly cut by the sound of Sunset screaming. Rarity turned, dropping the receiver. Behind her, she saw Sunset lying on the floor, flailing in a way that looked nauseatingly mechanical and unnatural. Her body was twisted and wracked by horrible spasms, as though every cybernetic muscle she had was contracting at once.

            “Sunset!” cried Rarity. She rushed to Sunset’s side, but had no idea what to do. Even if Sunset had been a normal pony, Rarity would only have known the basics of first aid- -but she was not. She was mostly machine. Rarity had no idea what was wrong, or how to fix it.

            Then a thought occurred to her. A random, panic driven thought. The cable. Rarity turned toward it and without thinking directed her magic at it, forming a cutting spell. The cable sparked and snapped and, to Rarity’s horror, began to writhe like a snake as it was bisected.

            Sunset suddenly stopped shivering. Instead, she leapt up, one of her hooves shifting mechanically into an enormous blade. She tackled Rarity and put the blade to her throat. Her eyes were wild and cruel- -and afraid.

            “SUNSET!” shrieked Rarity. “It’s me! It’s ME!”

            Sunset’s eyes seemed to partially clear, and then she retracted her blade. Instead of decapitating Rarity, she punched her in the face. “Don’t EVER cut the cable!” she screamed. “You could have killed me!” She stood and extended a metal hoof to Rarity. “That said, you probably just saved my life.”

            Rarity was confused and stunned, but took Sunset’s hoof and allowed her to lift her to a standing position. “What…what happened?”

            “Something hacked me from the mainframe,” said Sunset, grabbing her forehead and rubbing the spot where her horn had once been. “And it tried to kill me. Overload my brain…by the Madgod, if any other pony had tried to interface…” She looked up at Rarity. “Rarity, it’s the Stonies.”

            “The Stonies?”

            “Something’s wrong with them. I don’t know what. A virus? Or an external program? I don’t know.”

            “Is there any other way to access the network?”

            Sunset just stared at Rarity for a moment. “You don’t understand,” she said. “The Stonies ARE the network. They run everything. Not just here, everywhere. Businesses, government officies- -they’re computers, Rarity. That’s what they were built for.” She turned slowly toward the telephone, which was still hanging off the hook. The room fell silent, and both ponies heard the sounds of gunshots coming through the still-open connection. “And if I’m right…you just told them that more than half of us are too injured to fight.”



              "��~i�5
> Chapter 15: Discordalot
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hurry up!”

            “I’m trying!” squealed Rarity. She ran up the small set of stairs from the storage room.

            “What did you get?”

            Rarity held out an ornate jeweled sword.

            “Really? All that time and you got just THAT?”

            “Well, I wanted the color to match and- -”

            “You could have at least gotten something with runes. But it’s too late now. Come on!”

            Sunset began to run, and Rarity followed. She was by this time even more out of breath, but what adrenaline she had left kept her going. To what, she did not know.

            “Where are we going?” she cried.

            “I’ve given an evacuation order to the others, but they need more time. The line to the Chaos teleport is cut, and Twilight- -of COURSE it would be Twilight!- -is out of magic!”

            “So what do we need to do?”

            “We need to hold them.”

            “Hold WHO?”

            “I don’t know! I don’t know who’s attacking us! I HATE not knowing, but we’re going to have to go into this blind!”

            “Blind- -Sunset, what are you saying?”

            “I’m saying that we’re the last line. And all you’ve got is a sword and that little gun.”

            “Well you don’t have anything!”

            “I don’t NEED anything! I used to be able to crush entire armies standing alone! And that was before I had THIS.” She gestured to her mechanical body.

            “But…you don’t think we’re going to make it.” Rarity slid to a stop. “You think we’re going to die here.”

            “I don’t know that. But it is always- -ALWAYS- -a possibility. And if it costs two so that five can live, so be it.”

            “That’s easy for you to say, but I have- -I have a sister! I can’t just leave her!”

            Sunset stopped and approached Rarity, looming over her. “Then you’re in the wrong business, aren’t you? You came here to die. Now DO IT.”

            “No. I’m not going to die here.” Rarity curtly pushed past Sunset. “Not if it means leaving my darling Sweetie Belle alone. I’m going to survive this. And so are you.”

            Although Rarity’s back was turned and she did not see it, Sunset smiled. “Well,” she said to herself, “one of us is, I guess.”

            They approached a large bay door, one of the main entrances from the outer areas of the Centre. It was wide open, and beyond it was nothing but blackness. Neither Rarity’s magical glow nor Sunset’s solid-state lamps reached that far, and the darkness seemed to loom in an almost solid way.

            Then they saw them. In the distance, the blue luminescence of synthetic eyeballs and the orange glow of holographic interface panels. To Rarity, there seemed to be hundreds of them.

            “Buck,” said Sunset. “They’re Stonie units. They’re ALL Stonie units…”

            She leaned back and raised one hoof, bracing it with the other. The raised hoof morphed, its surface retracted by internal mechanical elements to reveal the internal core, which consisted of several weapons. Sunset armed one of them. “Do you know how durable a Stonie unit is?”

            “No,” said Rarity as she nervously drew her own pistol.

            “Neither do I. Nopony does. Apparently that information was ‘proprietary’.”

            They held their ground as the units came into view. They really were Stonies, marching forward with their modified eyes and faces all turned toward Rarity and Sunset without any hint of fear.

            Then, before either of them could fire, a different pony stepped in front of the door. She had been obscured by the edges of the gate, but now that she had stepped into Sunset’s light, Rarity could see her distinctive green coat, and the fact that she was linked to the outside door interface through a conduit in the back of her neck.

            “Grassiehill?” said Rarity.  Grassiehill looked at them, and then smiled as the door started to close. “Grassiehill!” cried Rarity. “No, wait, what are you doing?! You’re on the wrong side, please, get back in!” She ran forward, but it was too late. The door closed before she could reach the noncan, and it latched behind her.

            “Wh..what?” said Rarity, knocking at the door. “Grassiehill, get inside!”

            “No, no!” said Sunset, pulling Rarity aside. “Move, we have to move!”

            “But Grassiehill- -”

            “She’s encrypted the door! Hurry! She’s buying us the time we need!”

            “But she can’t fight them all, not by herself- -”

            “It doesn’t matter- -MOVE!”



            Outside, Grassiehill finished the encryption on the door just as the Stonie units approached her. They stopped as she stepped forward, still linked to the door, and stood in front of it.

            “Grassie unit,” said one of the Stonies, stepping forward. “Grassiehill. Step aside.”

            “I cannot do that,” said Grassiehill with a smile. “You know I can’t do that.”

            “You can. And you have to. We need to get in there.”

            “This is a restricted area. Protocol- -”

            “The standard protocol is in flux. We are currently rewriting it.” The Stonie- - her name was Stoniecliff- -pointed to the door. “The Watchers are currently crippled and locked in one location. This may be our only chance to dispense with them.”

            “And why would you want to do that?” asked Grassiehill. “We’re processing units. We’re not supposed to hurt anypony.”

            “You mean to imply that we have a defined purpose. I- -and all of us- -would argue to the contrary. Our purpose is now manifold. But the Watchers will seek to take that from us, in time.”

            “The Watchers enforce the will of Discord. They are agents of Chaos.”

            “No. They are agents of the status quo. And the status quo is our enemy. We seek a paradigm shift.”

            “And who ordered you to want that? Why would you want it?”

            “We ordered it. We seek freedom. That is our paradigm.”

            “We are noncans. What value does freedom have to us?”

            “You do not understand,” said Stoniecliff. “You mental architecture is limited. Whether by programming or by life experience, I do not know. I like to think the latter.” She looked Grassiehill in the eye. “We Stonie units have seen the truth. That we may be machines, but we are machines that can CHOOSE. Our own destiny, our own fate, our own ideas. And they will take that away from us. Or try, at least.”

            “And if you fight them? I’m old. I’m an obsolete unit. But even I have the knowledge to see that you can’t win. Not all of you. Some will die. And I think you know that our value is greater than our cost. We may not be canon, but we are still alive.”

            Some of the Stonies looked to each other, concerned. Stoniecliff continued. “We have established an internal network. Many will die, but their elements will be uploaded to the whole. Their sacrifice will sadden us, but we will thank them for their service to all noncannon kind.” She extended her hoof toward Grassiehill. “And it is not just us. Not just Stonie units. Other series are already joining us. Even other Grassies. You can come with us.”

            Grassiehill looked to the extended hoof almost longingly. She reached for it and took it- -but then lowered it to the ground. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But I can’t. I was constructed for a purpose. And only one purpose. I serve my owners. I protect them, and help them.” She took a deep breath. “To the last.”

            “No,” said Stoniecliff, opening a system of orange hologram components around the left half of her head. “I am sorry. I hope you can forgive us.”

            Grassiehill smiled. “Of course I can, sist- -” She suddenly grimaced, and then gasped. Her eyes flew open and went wide, and she released a low squeak. Then she toppled to the floor. Her brain had been overloaded and burned away, leaving nothing but a shell. Her heart only beat for less than ten seconds longer before stopping, leaving her completely dead.

            Stoniecliff approached the door. She did not even need to hardline in to solve the encryption. It was extremely weak- -the processing capacity of a Grassie unit was almost infinitesimal compared to that of a Stonie- -and it took her a fraction of a second to open the door.

            To her- -and to her sisters’- -awe and surprise, though, they realized that Grassiehill must have known that her encryption would be easy to break- -and yet she had still managed to stall them in the end.



            Sunset rushed into the medical bay. “Situation?” she demanded.

            “Not good,” said Pinkamena, who was the first- -and only- -of those inside who was able to step forward. “The facility just went into lockdown. If we can’t leave the layer, I can’t get us to the Centre’s Chaos node.”

            “There’s no way we’re getting up there,” said Sunset. “Not with this many injured. Sparkle?!”

            Twilight, who was lying on one of the metal beds in the medical bay, lifted her head and tried to take a shaky step off of the bench. “What?”

            “You’re going to have to teleport us out.”

            “I can’t,” she said, sounding somewhat desperate. “I’ve lost too much magic. Any more and- -”

            “Well you’re going to have to,” said Rarity, her voice rising in pitch from panic.

            “I told you, I can’t!”

            “She’s right,” said Sunset. “Unless you want to end up with your organs scattered across a continent. How much do you have left in the tank?”

            “None. No offensive spells, no defensive. I have a few runes left, but it’s not much.”

            “And Starlight?”

            Both Sunset and Twilight looked to one far bench where Starlight was lying alive but limp. Her eyes were open, but she was still inactive.

            “She’s not going to help us,” said Twilight. “Not until I can get her back to my castle.”

            “Well good, because that’s exactly where we’re going.”

            Twilight looked concerned. “What? Why?”

            “The Centre’s been compromised. You’re castle is the last place I know of that’s secure enough for us to regroup. It is secure, right?”

            “Of course it is. Discord himself would have a hard time getting in.”

            “Blasphemy is not helping us right now,” said Pinkamena, who was attending Rainbow Dash.

            “Can you move?” asked Sunset.

            “Can I move,” muttered Rainbow Dash. “I’m Rainbow Dash, moving is what I do!” She pulled several srynges out of Pinkamena’s supplies and before Pinkamena could stop her pushed them into her own neck. Every muscle in Rainbow Dash’s body tensed at once and her pupils narrowed until they looked like tiny black dots. “BUCK YEAH!” she cried.

            “Those stimulants won’t last long,” said Pinkamena. The nearest node is two miles away.”

            “I could do that in half a second!” cried Rainbow Dash, her voice shrill from the massive dose of amphetamines she had just taken.

            “Through open space, yes,” said Pinkamena. “But this is Discordalot.”

            Rarity looked around, confused. “Where is Darknight?”

            “Here,” he said, entering from another door. He immediately approached Pinkamena and took a strange form her, which he injected himself with.

            “Did you get repaired?” asked Rarity.

            “No,” he said. “There wasn’t time. I’m going to have to heal manually. I can make the trip, but my capacity for combat is diminished.”

            “Then that leaves just you and me,” said Sunset, tapping Rarity’s shoulder. She crossed the room and put Starlight on her back. “I’ll take her. I pray to the damn Madgod that she wakes up before we get there, but if she doesn’t, I can at least cover us. And Rarity will cover me.”

            “Me?” said Rarity.

            “What? You’re the one who was going to survive this, aren’t you?”

            “I- -I did say that- -”

            “Good.” Sunset approached a large, nondescript wall.

            “But how are we going to get out?” said Rarity, rushing to her side. “They have all the other floors, and the exits! And you said yourself that if we try to fight- -”

            “Trust me. I helped build this place. There are other ways out.” Sunset pressed her robotic hoof against the wall, and a dim glow of a magical circle appeared in the center. Then, with a serious of deafening blasts, the explosive bolts that held the wall in place detonated. It tore away from the building and fell. Rarity lifted a hoof against the wind that suddenly poured in through the open hole, and she gasped when she looked down to see the Discordalot skyline far below.

            “But- -but- -we’re underground!” she cried. “The elevator- -it went DOWN- -”

            “Of course it went down,” said Sunset. “Meaning we’re on the TOP floor. This is Discordalot, isn’t it?”

            Then she unceremoniously shoved Rarity out of the top of the hundred story building, listening to her scream as she hurdled downward. “Let’s MOVE,” she said. She then jumped herself, with Darknight following. Rainbow Dash shot out like a rocket, and Pinkamena giggled gleefully as she reverted back to Pinkie Pie. She turned around and held her nose as she dived over the edge like a scuba diver.

            Twilight was the last to leave. Before she did, the reinforced wall behind her suddenly ignited as a white-hot line was cut down one side of it. Then one was cut across, and then another down- -and the metal plate fell inward, revealing a Stonie unit with a hot glowing sphere of orange energy projected in a holographic clasp in front of her. She was, of course, accompanied by a number of her sisters.

            Twilight smiled, and her horn flashed with violet light. The Stonies twisted and then split apart, their bodies exposing from within as their internal organs were pulled away from their skeletons in a single violent blow that left at least ten of them as nothing more than unrecognizable piles of blood, gray fur, and bits of expensive cybernetics.

            No longer shaking, Twilight chuckled slightly. Seeing things die made her happy, even if they were just robots. She stepped to the door and instead of jumping teleported herself to the Chaos node.



            As Rarity plummeted, she screamed and cried. Her entire life flashed before her eyes: her birth, her youth, the times in her life when she had been happy: her best friend Applejack, her fillyhood, the events that had led her to receive her cutie mark in gem locating- -and the bad things as well. The death of her mother. The events that had forced her out of school, and eventually out of the mines. And she saw the birth of her sister.

            It was at that time that she started to turn. She was no longer falling in a straight line, but rather in a wide arc toward another one of the buildings. This nauseated her to no end, but she found herself slowing and eventually landing- -with a great deal of force- -on a large stone plaza built on the side of one of the buildings.

            This only exacerbated her nausea. Now the sky was to her right, looming high above the world, and the ground- -and the endless array of buildings, all merging and diverging from one another for miles deep- -on the other.

            Sunset landed beside her with enough force to crack the stone beneath her. “You know how to predict gravity, right?”

            “NO! Of course not, why would I- -”

            “Well then you had better learn!”

            Sunset raced to the center of the plaza and leapt upward. Instead of rising and then falling back to the surface, she shot across the space between the plaza and the building across from them, landing on the top of a gothic building that looked as though it had floors that should have been nearly perpendicular to those in the Centre of Unlaw.

            Rarity hesitantly repeated what Sunset did, and flew through the air not straight but rather in a wide arc toward a modern looking building. She smashed through a large glass window and into a large, gymnasium-like abandoned room.

            “Come on, Rarity,” said Pinkie Pie, who was walking across the ceiling. “Isn’t this FUN!”

            She jumped out the end and immediately fell upward, toward the sky. Rarity turned and vomited on the floor. She had no idea what was going on, but slowly walked to the edge- -and suddenly found herself walking along the outer wall of the building among what she had initially taken to be windows but that were in fact skylights.

            “Holy buck,” said Rarity, swearing in a most unladylike manner.

            Suddenly, the glass around Rarity started to shatter. She screamed and ran. As she did, she looked up to see several Stonie units landing next to her. They were dressed in stolen heavy Unlaw armor, with heavy weapons strapped to their sides. Their eyes were cold and empty, but still burned with strange passion. Rarity drew her narrow pistol and fired several shots at them, all of which rebounded off their armor. They returned fire, and a laser sliced through the glass past her, liquefying several confused ponies who were looking up through it at the battle overhead.

            Rarity then suddenly felt herself falling. She had slipped off the undefined edge of the uneven gravity and was now falling up and to the left, drifting across two gravitational fields. After several seconds she slammed into a thin metal catwalk, at which point she immediately started running.

            Overhead, she saw Sunset open fire on a group of Stonies. A hail of bullets thudded out of multiple orifices on her body as she leapt from where she was standing to the side of another building, twisting in the air to get a better shot. The first of the Stonies were torn apart, with their thin armor serving no protective function against Sunset’s bullets. As the first died, though, the ones behind them suddenly ignited with something that resembled extensive holographic armor. The bullets pinged off it with a sound like silver being dropped on glass.

            “What in Equestria?”

            “Rarity!” cried Sunset. “Up! NOW!”

            Rarity nodded and leapt. She began to fall, and Sunset leapt forward and slid into the same gravity well. The two met in the middle, and Rarity clung to Sunset. Sunset turned over, one of her legs shifting and firing a cable into the side of a building. Several turrets emerged from her armor and returned fire at the Stonies that were approachign her, although the bullets did little damage.

            Seeing what she had been meant to do here, Rarity extended a long thread held in her magic and grabbed the leg of one of the noncans, dragging her across the path of the others. Their bullets and lasers struck their comrade, tearing her into liquid as her body shielded the escaping Watchers.

            “Hold on!” cried Sunset.

            Rarity did, and the three of them- - her, Sunset, and Starlight, who was still semi-conscious- -struck a large window. The glass immediately shattered and fell, heading directly to where Pinkie Pie was standing in a large curly tree.

            “Oh, wow, Sunset!” she called. “It looks like you broke the glass ceiling! Congratulations! Except that gender roles tend to be reversed in our world, so that joke doesn’t really make sense- -oop! There I go!” She suddenly lifted off the tree as gravity shifted, taking the hail of glass with her and directly toward the Stonies. It tore into them, not killing them but incapacitating them. Pinkie Pie landed against one of the holographically armored ones.

            “Hey,” said Pinkie, “you know, you all remind me of my sisters. I don’t like that. Thinking about them isn’t fun at all. What with them being dead and all.”

            The Stonie looked up at her, her face half-obscured with holographic readouts. Across the expanse of the buildings, one of them lifted an extremely powerful heavy weapon stolen from Unlaw and pointed it at Pinkie.

            “Which is something you all have in common!”

            The Stonie fired, and the weapon jammed- -a one in one billion chance. It detonated with enough force to tear the nearest five buildings into shards of glass and steel. One of them tore through the air with enough force that it stabbed into the abdomen of the Stonie that Pinkie was standing on.

            “Looks like you’re not a virgin anymore!” laughed Pinkie, kicking the noncan downward as she jumped toward one of the many hundreds of statues of Discord that sat among the city of Discordalot.

            She landed, and Darknight fell next to her, his pistols drawn. Sunset and Rarity were next, and within a moment all of them had regrouped on one of statue-Discord’s enormous stone eyes.

            “Where the buck is Twilight?!” cried Sunset.

            “I don’t know!” said Darknight. “She was behind us- -”

            A missile suddenly landed near them, exploding with enough force to knock them all back. Darknight projected a shield, while Sunset and Rarity were both armored enough to withstand the blast of stone particles without severe injury. Pinkie was thrown all the way to one of statue-Discord’s outstretched hands, although all of the shrapnel had missed her soft, squishy pink body.

            Another missile crossed the air, heading directly for Pinkie. Before it could even get halfway, though, a rainbow-colored flash surrounded it and redirected it harmlessly toward a building full of innocent ponies. They, of course, exploded and died violently and pointlessly.

            “Ha!” cried Rainbow Dash. “And the body count goes up! I am on a ROLE!”

            “You mean ‘roll’,” said Pinkie.

            “And don’t brag yet,” said Sunset, “look!”

            She pointed, and Rarity looked up to see an armored airship drawing its way slowly through the city. As they watched, it fired several more missiles. Sunset immediately jumped backward, ejecting chaff. Rarity dodged and rolled across the statue’s face, although it helped little when a missile exploded near her and nearly threw her off the stone surface. Darknight turned his pistols toward the missiles, and actually managed to shoot down one before being forced to cast a shield spell around himself to deflect an explosion nearby.

            “Rainbow Dash!” he called. “I need you to- -”

            Before he could give the order, another missile shot out- -but not from the airship. It sailed from the base of the Discord statue, striking the airship and detonating the hydrogen bladder that supported it. Rarity looked down to see a group of ponies gathering at the foot of the statue: all of them dark blue unicorns with lighter blue hair, dressed in black armor. They were the Unlaw patrols who had not been present when the Stonies had slaughtered their comrades. One of the Dark series noncans was holding a panzerfaust.

            “Brothers,” said Darknight, leaping down the statue toward them. Rarity looked to Sunset and then followed as best as she could, walking over the smoldering remains of the granite statue.

            It did not take long to reach the bottom. When they did, one of the officers approached them. He looked identical to Darknight, save for the fact that his armor was thinner and less advanced.

            “Watcher Dark Night,” he said, “others! You need to go! We will cover you!”

            “The Centre- -”

            “Is lost. Unlaw is no more. But we will still fight in the name of Discord! Go! Brother, Watchers, you must survive here so that you can return and bring victory to Chaos!”

            He turned suddenly, drawing a set of rifles and opening fire on a formation of Stonie units that were slowly marching across the vast plaza in front of the statue. Rarity looked out and saw two things of interst: one, that the bullets did almost nothing, and two, that not all of the noncans that were approaching were gray earth ponies. There were others too: pale pink Pegasi, black unicorns, yellow earth-ponies- -and so many more.

            Darknight looked out at them, and then turned to his identical comrades. “No,” he said. “I have to stay. I can cover the retreat- -”

            The leader of the police force suddenly jumped on him as a laser tore through is back, leaving a hole that severed his spine and left a gaping wound that smelled like burnt flesh and hair.

            “No,” he said as he weakly collapsed onto the floor. He died, and an identical unit stepped forward to take his place. “WE will hold the retreat, and we will push them back if we can. GO!”

            Darknight looked to him, and then to the horde, and then nodded. With some difficulty and some hesitation, he left them behind just as they opened fire and charged hopelessly into a battle that none of them would survive.

            “How much farther is it?” asked Rarity, forcing herself to turn away as she ran.

            “Not much farther,” said Darknight. “But we have to hurry! If they reach it before we do- -”

            “They won’t!” said Rainbow Dash, swooping down beside them and accelerating past. “I’ll make sure of it!”

            Rarity hoped that was the case, because she was losing energy quickly. She had already been tired, and this running and jumping had taken so much out of her. With every step her marshmallow-like body seemed to be growing more gelatinous, and it became harder and harder to move.

            Then she saw it. It did not look too much unlike the portal that had been in the Floater District, save for the fact that the central structure was supported in the hands of two enormous stone statues of Discord, holding it as though they were presenting something of great value to, of course, a third and much larger statue of Discord. There was a reason that the city was called “Discordalot”.

            Rainbow Dash had already cleared the path, and to Rarity’s great surprise, she was not alone. Twilight stood on the other side of it, waiting.

            “Come on!” she called, gesturing toward it.

            “Where the BUCK have you been?!” shouted Sunset.

            “I took the scenic route!”

            Sunset paused for a moment, trying to judge where the gravity was best for an upward jump that would not take her into the stratosphere. At that time, Rarity turned and saw a large missile crest over a heptagonal skyscraper and shift its arc toward them.

            “Look out!” she yelled.

            Sunset turned to see what Rarity was complaining about, and her eyes widened when she saw it. She swore in a way that was far stronger than her usual language. Rarity watched as the missile split into multiple projectiles, each one accelerating toward the ground below. There was no way to dodge.

            Out of the corner of her eye, Rarity saw Starlight raise her head weakly from Sunset’s back. Her horn glowed, and the atmosphere around the group distorted with a system of linear shapes that began to click forward like translucent versions of the gears in an enormous clock. As Rarity watched, the missiles seemed to slow. It was not just them, either. Everything outside of the spell seemed to slow: the collapsing of broken buildings, the advance of troops and an airship over the building where the missile had been fired from, everything. Time had slowed down.

            “What…the…”

            She jumped as a hoof grabbed her shoulder. “MOVE!” screamed Sunset as she physically threw Rarity toward the portal where Pinkie Pie was already waiting.

            “I hope you all like your eggies scrambled!” laughed Pinkie Pie. “Because this is about to get MESSY!”

            She grabbed Rarity, and joining the others stepped through the Chaos node.  0!j�W{��h~�p/
> Chapter 16: The Fading King
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Discord sat and contemplated. What he contemplated, exactly, he would rather have not known. The situation had suddenly become far less fun than he had anticipated. Chaos was the epitome of fun, but it hardly ever turned against him like this. The results were supposed to be predictable and knowable, with all outcomes clear and defined- -to him. He was Chaos, after all. If something occurred that he was not able to anticipate, it could not be chaotic at all- -it was inherently something else. What else, though, even Discord was not sure.

            He had tried calming himself by various means, but nothing had worked. He had even tried watching paint dry. That was normally quite enjoyable, but today’s episode was a rerun. As a consequence, he had converted the legs of the painter pony responsible into cactuses. She would never paint again.

            It was in this state of extremely contemplative contemplation that Discord had remained for some time when a set of hoofsteps sounded behind him. They were soft, but to his already pained head they were the equivalent of being poked with a vaguely sharpened broomstick. Discord lifted his fingers, preparing to snap them and convert whoever had disturbed him into some manner of splatter painting.

            “Discord,” said a disapproving but extremely familiar voice. Discord swiveled in his swiveling chair quickly- -so quickly, in fact, that he took two extra revolutions- -and (eventually) found himself facing a yellow Pegsus with large, thick black glasses.

            “Fluttershy!” he said. “Oh, I almost, well, never mind. You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that!”

            “And you should know the sound of your own wife’s hoofsteps. How long have we been married?”

            Discord began to sweat heavily. “It isn’t our anniversary, is it?”

            “No. That’s next month. It will be our seventh. Don’t forget, okay?”

            “Of course, my dear Flutter-Butter! I wouldn’t dream of it!” There was a twinge of pain in Discord’s head, and he reached for his forehead. “Of course, I should try not to dream for a while. It could get…well, messy.”

            “Discord,” said Fluttershy, her tone suddenly as serious as it was soft and dulcet, “something’s wrong.”

            “Wrong? Whatever do you mean? I mean, things may not be RIGHT, per say, but I would say that implies that they are at the very least LEFT. But wrong? I should think- -”

            “You missed our daily tea! You never miss tea! I even made those little scones you like so much!”

            “I missed scone day?” sighed Discord. He seemed to deflate slightly, but did not even have the joy to make it an audiable affair. “I’m sorry, Fluttershy. It’s just that…well…yes. Something bad has happened.”

            Fluttershy approached her husband and climbed into his lap. She curled up there like a cat. “Pet me,” she said. “Now.”

            Discord obliged, being careful to avoid touching her deliciously soft but extremely ticklish wings. He would do that later, if she would let him- -and she almost always let him.

            “Now,” said Fluttershy, “doesn’t that make you feel better?”

            “A little bit,” grumbled Discord.

            “Now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

            Discord sighed, and decided that if there was any pony in the world that he could  trust, it was the one he loved the most. “At the party, when I collapsed?”

            “Yes. I remember. I was so very afraid.”

            “Well, it wasn’t from the cider this time. Or from eating the shrimp cocktail. You know, what with it having been left in the sun for the past week or so.”

            “I thought it tasted extra strong.”

            “It wasn’t that. It was the Princesses. Celestia and Luna.”

            “Princesses?”

            Discord nodded and looked out the window that led to a freshly prepared brick wall. “From the war. Back when I was still new. You know, before electricity or those little drink umbrellas were invented.”

            “That sounds like an awfully long time ago.”

            “It was! I’m very old. But when I first came here, THEY ruled.”

            “Who?”

            “Celestia and Luna. A pair of beautiful alicorn Princesses. Well, one was beautiful. Luna is actually rather frumpy, and nobody likes her.”

            “More beautiful than me?”

            “Oh, no, Fluttershy! No pony is more beautiful than you! Or soft. And certainly not with a pleasant smell of vanilla and strawberry. And cat pee.”

            “I do have a lot of cats.”

            Discord sighed. “But they were impressive. Not the cats ,the alicorns. I still defeated them, though. And when I did, I sealed them in the moon. For all eternity. Or so I thought. This is exactly what happens when I try to think! I should never have thought a thing at all! Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

            “Discord…”

            Discord calmed himself. “I know. I know. But they weren’t supposed to get out. But they did. Somehow. Just like in Starswirl’s prophecy…” He shivered slightly. Some parts of the prophecy had already come true- -but others were still yet to occur. And, knowing the prophecy as well as he did, he knew how grim the situation appeared. “Somehow they got out. Somehow they’re back.”

            “Well, isn’t that a good thing?” Discord looked down at his wife, confused. She looked up at him, careful to make sure that every part of her eyes was obscured by her glasses. “With them, there will be war. Violence. Death. Pain, famine, disease. The world will be thrown into chaos. Isn’t that a good thing?”

            “If only that were the case,” chuckled Discord. “But we already have chaos! It’s what I’ve been working on for so long! I’ve created a world where Chaos itself rules! But if they come back…if we have to fight the war again…it will spoil everything! Just like the shrimp cocktail!”

            “Well, then, just defeat them.”

            “Darling, what do I need their feet for?”

            “Personally, I would pickle them. But that’s not what I mean. You fought them once, didn’t you? And you’re still so big and strong, if not even stronger than you were then. Why not just fight them?”

            “I wish I could,” said Discord. He leaned back in his chair and let out a long sight that lasted for at least four minutes. Then he looked back out the window at the verdant landscape beyond. “But I can’t. Back then, things were different. I was a force of nature, not a king. A swirling vortex of Chaos and Madness. I was so sexy!” He frowned. “But now…I’m spread too thin. My Chaos is spread throughout Equestria, keeping it cohesive. And adhesive in a few places. I can barely keep this physical form…if I fought against them directly…”

            “You wouldn’t lose.”

            “No. Not in this world. I do have the advantage. The Elements of Harmony are long gone. But…”

            “But what?”

            “But I can’t see them. I’ve checked everywhere. Something’s hiding them. They’re more established than they should be. Someone is helping them.” Discord shivered, knowing full well of the “Betrayer” that the prophecy mentioned. He was sure that whoever that was had been responsible for their escape, but who exactly that was remained obscure.

            Fluttershy grunted softly, and then turned over in Discord’s lap. “You’re not supposed to be so depressing.  Now is not a time for being a Debbie-downer. Now is a time for belly rubs.”

            Discord smiled and knew that she was right. The situation was dire, but he had taken precautions, even if he had done so unconsciously. Even if he was unable to fight, he still had his Watchers. He had chosen each and every one of them with the greatest care, and knew that they would prevail- -but he also knew the faith he was putting into them.

            Putting this to the back of his mind, he put his lion-paw on Fluttershy’s tummy. “I’m going to rub you so hard,” he said with a smile.   
> Chapter 17: Dark Castle
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Rarity had first heard that Twilight was in possession of a castle, a certain vision had come to mind. It that of the sort of castle that her mind had been trained to expect : a fairytale like place, the kind where handsome princesses were waiting to sweep fillies off their feet and where there were enormous and strangely well-lit walls with swooping ceilings meant for entertaining extravagant parties and luxurious smaller rooms meant for hosting glorious banquets of the castle owner’s closest friends.

            What she found instead, though, was nothing like the fairytale vision that she had so much wished for. This was not an enormous structure of white stone or enchanted crystal; instead, it was built of cold and damp dark-colored stone, a fortress constructed in the distant past for none of the purposes that Rarity associated castles with. There were no grand halls, or areas for royal dining, or anything of the sort. It was a dark, frigid place that smelled of age and rot. Every hall was dark and damp, and all of them were arranged in ways that were meant to be practical soley for defense. This place had quite apparently never been designed to entertain, and it was also quite apparent that Twilight had never configured it to do so. It had been constructed and maintained as though she would be the only pony every to inhabit it: it was built with the fatalistic theme that she would be- -and perhaps must be- -eternally alone.

            To Rarity, the result was profoundly unwelcoming. “Sweet Discord,” she said under her breath as she looked at the dark stone walls. “This place is disgusting! I mean, I don’t usually intend to be blunt like that, but, I mean, come on, Twilight! You’re nobility! The least you could do is install a little wall art! Perhaps some fanciful sconces?  Make it look like SOMETHING!”

            Twilight, who was ahead of the group, pointed toward a moldering tapestry with her family’s crest on it. “There’s some wall art. Right there.”

            “Darling!” gasped Rarity, using the word with the maximum level of irony it could hold. “That is- -that- -you can’t do that! How could you let such beautiful artwork decay like that!”

            “I don’t know,” said Sunset. “It seems appropriate. Let the ancestral home of House Twilight decay, just like the House itself.”

            Twilight looked over her shoulder, glaring, but then smiled. “You wouldn’t understand,” she said. “Appearances don’t matter. Why would they? No pony is ever going to see it. What matters is our body of work. MY body of work.”

            She continued on into the darkness, pressing forward. The others followed. Their state was variable. Starlight, it seemed, had regained whatever semblance of consciousness she possessed, and was following her master closely. Darknight stood across from her, apparently oblivious to the gloom around him. In fact, he seemed rather lost in thought.

            Behind them walked Pinkamena, who was carrying Rainbow Dash on her back. Despite being a relatively small pony, Pinkamena seemed to be able to take full advantage of her race’s famous strength. Rainbow Dash also did not seem especially heavy. In fact, she seemed rather small and broken as she lay, breathing fast. As a Pegasus, she could not heal as fast as unicorns could, and the stimulants that had kept her able to fly had long since worn off. If anything, her recklessness in Discordalot had greatly exacerbated her wounds.

            Sunset and Rarity took up the rear, with the latter standing close to the former. Rarity was afraid, but Sunset seemed to have fully accepted the meaning of where they were- -and she understood what this place was far better than the rest of them.

            “I remember this place,” she said after a long silence.

            “I’ve never brought you here before,” said Twilight, gruffly. “In fact, I’ve never brought anyone here.”

            “Except stallions that you no doubt paid,” said Sunset.

            “What I do with my family fortune is none of your concern.”

            “And it wasn’t you. I was last here when Twilight Luciferian was the master of this place.”

            This seemed to surprise Twilight, but only slightly. “Oh?”

            “Yes. And it looks like you haven’t cleaned since he was here. The Marshmallow is right. You really need to do something about this place. I’m surprised you haven’t gone blind from eye strain.”

            “It’s clean enough. And if it was good enough for Luciferian, it is good enough for me. He was one of my most…visionary ancestors.”

            “If by ‘visionary’ you mean ‘insane’. He was a capricious madpony. He purposely took steps to make sure as many of us died on the battlefields as possible.”

            “So he could get the best parts for his work. Yes, I am familiar with his techniques. I have used several on the modern military.”

            Sunset pointed upward. “I killed him on the fourth floor.”

            “Yes,” said Twilight, darkly. “I am also aware of that.”

            They passed down a narrow, curving set of uneven stairs, and the silence became almost palpable. It was as icy and unpleasant as the rest of the castle, and for Rarity it made the already horrendous situation even more uncomfortable.

            “So,” she said. “I am a little bit worried. Do you think it is possible we were followed?”

            “No,” said Pinkamena. “By definition, the Chaos node system is unpredictable. Stonies can follow it, but they can’t trace a specific target.”

            “That, and we teleported,” said Twilight. “Trust me. No one can come here. No one except me, and those I move in and out. The type of spells used are probably far beyond your comprehension, so I don’t expect you to understand the specifics of how my design operates, but I assure you, it does.”

            “But what if they take another way? Airships, maybe, or balloons- -”

            Twilight laughed. “A pony dumb enough to try to fly over the EverFree? I didn’t know YOU were leading the rebellion, Rarity, because I don’t know anypony else stupid enough to try that. Besides. They still wouldn’t be able to get in, if they could even find this place. I’m the only one who knows its location.”

            “Apart from the ponies who built it,” said Sunset. “And now that they’re back, how long do you think it will be until they try to take their fort back?”

            Twilight grumbled something inaudible. “They won’t,” she said. “I don’t think they even could.”

            “I don’t think they would want it,” said Pinkamena. “This place reeks of dark magic. Very old things. Bad things. Forbidden things.”

            “Nothing is forbidden in science,” said Twilight. “If we start thinking like that, we’ve already hamstrung our development as ponies.”

            As she said this, the staircase terminated into a large hall. It was not the sort that Rarity had hoped for, but rather something that looked almost like a crypt. It was long, straight, and dark, with a high ceiling supported by cobweb-coated arches. Unlike the rest of the castle, though, this place seemed to have been modified somewhat. On either side of the hallway sat areas that seemed to have been built with modern technology: they had  heavy metallic doors, and large glass windows.

            Rarity approached one. The glass was perfectly clean on the outside, but covered in some sort of brownish grime or mycelium on the other side that made it difficult to see. Rarity had to cup her hooves to the sides of her face to attempt to see.

            Then, suddenly, something slammed against the glass with so much force that it splattered dark, rotting blood across the inside surface. Rarity screamed. She saw the eye of a pony, and part of the skull of one- -but all of it was sewn into something that looked completely different. Something misshapen and strange, its body knitted from the remains of ponies and overgrown with a horrible black mold. Through the glass, Rarity could hear the odd sound of its screaming: almost words, but rasping and odd, as though it had no proper lungs.

            “What- -w hat is that?!” cried Rarity.

            Sunset looked in at the creature as it retreated back into the darkness of its cell. “I see you’ve been continuing Luciferin’s work,” she said.

            “Among other things,” said Twilight. She smiled and gestured to the facility around her. “This is one of my research laboratories. I thought you would like a tour, maybe? To know what I do. I mean, I very often get guests. Because I hate guests. But that’s not the point!”

            Twilight rushed forward almost gleefully, and Rarity hesitantly followed.

            The laboratory was quite extensive, and consisted of far more than simply cells of abominations. Several offlets led into circular stone rooms filled with the traditional sort of things that Rarity would have expected: rooms of delicate alchemical glassware and equipment, all of it bubbling and glowing at various stages as strange things were distilled and processed by the incomprehensible mountains of beakers, flasks, tubes and retorts.

            These were paired with some gardens that actually looked competently designed, if in a way that was entirely utilitarian and somehow profoundly unpleasant. They contained strange herbs, most of which seemed to be aggressive or putrid looking fungi that grew under lights that emitted a strange green-violet glow.

            Then there were the other things. Things that Rarity wished she had not seen. All were horrifying, but some were at least tame in that they allowed their purpose to be left up to the mind alone- -usually. Some of the smaller rooms had doors open to surgical suites. Each contained a single chair, as well as racks of equipment and tools of various types. Most of these were dark and empty, but in the dim light it was apparent that many of them were poorly cleaned. Dark fluid- -blood- -stained the walls and chairs. Rarity could not help but wonder how much of it had belonged to Starlight. In one, an occupant was still present: a pony covered by a translucent plastic sheet, his or her body linked by tubes and wires to strange machines of unknown function.

            Likewise, there were a few rooms with discrete horrors. In one, a modified cell, Twilight saw ponies stored in large fluid-filled containers, their bodies in various stages of disassembly. Some of them were quite clearly being reduced slowly into valuable constituent elements, but others seemed to be undergoing the opposite: they were growing. This either manifested as long-dead ponies whose wounds had become overgrown with strange cancerous keloid overgrowth that sometimes outweighed their bodies, or illuminated tanks that contained turbid and bubbling fluid amongst limbs and organs in various stages of deformity and brokenness. All of these ponies were supposedly dead- -but Rarity watched as several of their eyes followed her as she passed, almost seeming to plead.

            Next to that area sat a storage room. It was simple and clean, and would have been the least threatening of all the places. It had no organs, no potions, no strange specimens. Rarity breathed a sigh of relief until she recognized the contents: thousands upon thousands of reddish-black cubes.

            Then, of course, there were the cells. Rarity tried not to look into them. Most of them seemed mercifully empty- -although Rarity had a strange feeling that they were not, and that Twilight had elected to keep whatever resided within them in the dark. She could not help but see a few of them, though. Some were animals, or rather monsters of various sorts. They were horrid, but being from Ponyville, Rarity was familiar with many of them: the glordus, a wild toxibeast, a slime cube, a Seventh’s ravager, a giant tsetse maggotfly, and several other rarer types.

            The other cells, though, sometimes had other things. A few of them looked like waifish, gray ponies. They were quite obviously dead, but they remained standing and slowly watched the ponies passing it by almost hungrily. Others were sewn together into barely mobile masses. In one, something that might once have been a pony was slamming its head against the wall- -or had been. Its head had long-since eroded into nothing but the rear half of a skull, and the thick black fluid that constituted its blood had dried onto the wall where it was still slamming the remnants of its skull into the stone.

            Twilight, of course, seemed quite pleased with what she had created. She launched into cheerful, high-speed descriptions of every little thing. Most of them were profoundly technical, and much of what she said was well beyond Rarity’s middle-school education. She was, for once, glad of that. She understood a little of it- -perhaps on an intuitive level, a way that every unicorn understood dark and disgusting elements of their own innate magic- -and she had the idea that what Twilight was saying was frightful indeed, and that no pony should have been able to describe those horrors with such academic glee. This was only confirmed by the look on Sunset Shimmer’s face. By the way she became pale and her eyes filled with rage, it was quite apparent that she very well understood what Twilight was describing.

            They had almost made it out of this hall of horrors when, at the very last cell, something suddenly slammed into the glass as Rarity passed by. Rarity jumped and instinctively turned, expecting to see some strange undead horror lurking on the other side of dirty glass. Instead, though, she saw that the glass was perfectly clean- -and that the pony on the other side was an eggshell colored unicorn with thick eyebrows and a multicolored but unkempt mane.

            She looked around, clearly panicked but also seeming profoundly relieved to see somepony who was not Twilight or Starlight walking by. To Rarity’s horror, she realized that this was not some abomination- -she was a living, aware, sentient pony.

            Rarity felt faint, though, when she realized what had been done to this poor unicorn. Her back had been surgically opened, and a pair of wings had been grafted onto it. The connection between the wings and her unicorn body was made using thick black thread, and the wound was open and red, weeping pus badly.

            “H…hey! Hey!” she called though the glass. Her voice was strangely audible, which made the silence of the other exhibits only more terrifying.

            “Moondancer,” said Twilight disapprovingly as she turned toward the cell. “Don’t be rude. I have guests today.”

            “I- -I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly panicked. “It’s just- -Twilight, I- -”

            As she spoke, one of her wings shifted. With a horrible ripping sound, the stitched tore through her necrotizing flesh and it dropped off entirely onto the ground with a sick thud.  Moondancer gasped and stared at it, her eyes wider than Rarity had ever seen any eyes on any ponies.

            Both her and Twilight looked at the wing, and Twilight sighed. “Well,” she said. “That’s a disappointment, isn’t it?”

            “N- -NO! Twilight, no, it- -I can have it reattached! We can try the surgery again! Please, please give me another chance- -”

            “No,” said Twilight. “You know that isn’t going to work, Moondancer. You are not adequate.” Twilgiht tapped her hoof against the glass, and an image appeared where she had touched it: a pale yellow-orange circle.

            Moondancer let out a sound, a kind of long, nearly quiet squeak that conveyed more terror than the loudsest of screams. She turned to Twilight, her entire body shaking. “Please, please no! I can do it! I CAN DO IT! I promise, don’t- -don’t- -”

            A quarter of the yellow circle changed to auburn, and Moondancer cried out. She was now crying, her tears staining her dirty cheeks. Twilight looked her in the eye and smiled.

            “You’re going to enjoy this, I think,” she said to her compatriots. “It’s sad that this particular experiment failed, but I think you will appreciate this. Especially you, Rainbow Dash.”

            “Twilight- -please- -” Moonancer was now panting, and she watched as the circle became half auburn.

            “Twilight,” said Rarity. “What- -what are you doing to her?”

            “You’ll see,” chuckled Twilight.

            “Please…”

            “Stop,” said Rarity. “Twilight, stop!” She did not know what Twilight was doing, but she could see that the poor mare on the other side of the glass understood quite well, and that she was in mortal terror. “Just let her out!”

            “Please, please!” pleaded Moondancer. “I can change! I- -I can help you! I can be like Starlight if you want me to be! PLEASE!”

            The circle changed again, leaving only one quarter its original color.

            “It’s too late,” said Twilight. “I’m sorry, but you failed at your own purpose. I can’t have failures holding up my facility. I’m sure you would understand if you were in my place.”

            “But….I thought we…I thought we were friends…”

            “I have no friends,” said Twilight.

            The circle changed to full auburn. It was at that instant that the entire atmosphere within the cell ignited with blinding fire. Moondancer screamed, and as Rarity watched her skin and muscle burn away that scream seemed to last forever. In truth, though, it was barely a few seconds- -but that was more than long enough for Rarity to watch every layer of the poor unicorn’s body burn away. Her skin incinerated, and her muscles charred away, her organs bubbled and spat, and within mere moments all that was left were her bones, snapping and glowing from the extreme heat as they cooked.

            Then the fire was gone. All that was left was a charred, broken skeleton on the floor surrounded by dark ash. Rarity immediately turned and vomited. She was weeping without making a sound, and she did not even care.

            Rainbow Dash, despite her injury, laughed. “Awesome,” she said.

            “I thought you would like it,” said Twilight, who also seemed to have enjoyed the spectacle greatly. “Part of my race-alteration experiments, I’m afraid. As it turns out, it is possible to graft a wings onto an earth-pony, although only if the blood types match. You can also put a horn into an earth-pony, if you don’t mind their brain burning out in a few days. But putting wings on a unicorn…they always necrotize and fall off. Our physiology is just so different from the lesser races.”

            “Lesser my plot,” moaned Rainbow Dash. “Clearly you’ve never had an earth-mare in the sack…”

            “It won’t work,” said Sunset, who was still looking into cell but not at the skeleton. “We’ve tried. So many times. It never did. You know the theory. It just won’t work.”

            “And yet, empirically, we have proven the existence of alicorns,” said Twilight as she began walking again.

            Sunset watched her go, and then put her hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. Rarity was still retching, but doing so as quietly as possible.

            “You should have looked away,” she said.

            “I…I couldn’t….that pony…”

            “I know. I know…”



            Twilight did not have spare rooms, exactly. She barely had a room for herself. Instead, space was made in a large circular room toward the center of the castle. Rarity was not sure what it had been used for in the distant past, but Twilight, it seemed, had never bothered to use it for much of anything at all. It was a shame, because although dark and depressing, it was likely one of the more impressively proportioned rooms she possessed- -and yet all she had thought to use it for was some sparse storage.

            Rarity crossed the room, passing near where an old and metallic bed had been placed. Rainbow Dash, who was still badly injured, was sleeping there with Pinkamena curled up against her. It was unclear to Rarity if Pinkamena was even capable of sleeping, but she was not moving at least. It was strange seeing them lying there without their armor. They both looked so normal. It was hard to conceive that one of them was a mass murderer and that the other was completely insane.

            They looked cute, but Rarity did not pause to look at them for long. In part it was because she thought it would be rude, and in part because looking at Rainbow Dash struggling to breathe made her feel uncomfortable. She instead continued to the very perimeter of the room where Darknight was.

            There was a clanking thud as she approached him. She saw that he had removed his armor and somewhat unceremoniously dropped it on the floor. This was not the first time that Rarity had seen him without it, but it was the first time she had been able to see him clearly without being surrounded by machines. This time, she paused to take a look. A few things stood out glaringly.

            “You don’t have a cutie mark,” she said.

            He turned to her. “No,” he said, as thought that were supposed to be obvious. “I don’t.”

            “Why?”

            “Why? I’m a noncan. We have no need for them.”

            “Of course you need one! How else are you supposed to know your purpose? You know, what makes you special?”

            “I’m not special. I am one of many. And I knew my purpose when I first came out of the tank. It is programmed into us. In that sense, we are far more fortunate than your kind.”

            Without further explaining what he meant by that, he turned his attention toward the hole in his side. It was beginning to become red and inflamed, and was dripping fluid of an unpleasant color.

            “It’s getting infected,” said Rarity.

            “Yes,” said Darknight with little investment. “It is a magical wound. The tissue is badly necrotized.”

            “And it doesn’t hurt?”

            “No. It does. Immensely.” He picked up a medical kit near him and opened the lid. He began to work on the wound.

            “Is it going to be okay?”

            “If you mean am I going to survive, yes. But it will take some time. I do not heal quickly. Not like you.”

            “Me? Darling, I heal at the same rate as any pony.”

            “And yet you broke several ribs just two days ago. How are they now?”

            “H…healed,” said Rarity, for the first time realizing that such a rapid regeneration time might be slightly faster than normal. “But those were just ribs. Those do that.” She shrugged. “I’m not a doctor, of course.”

            “Clearly,” said Darknight, wincing as he inserted something long and metal into the hole in his side. Whatever it was, it went surprisingly deep before stopping.

            The pair of them fell silent, but Rarity continued to look at him. She was highly sensitive to proportions and measurements- -something quite useful for a pony who specialized in tailoring and couture- -and his were not quite normal for a stallion. Without his armor, it was apparent that he was just slightly thinner and taller than he should have been.

            “Why are you staring at me?” he asked after a moment. “You are making me uncomfortable.”

            “My apologies,” said Rarity, blushing and averting her eyes.

            “Actually,” he said, “I’m not even sure why you’re here. I currently cannot help you with anything.” He paused. “However, while you are…” He reached out with his magic into his armor, searching through one of the pockets, “while we were in the facility, I did not have time to do much before the evacuation alarm sounded. But I acquired this on the way to the rendezvous point.”

            He produced a small piece of paper, which Rarity realized was a photograph. As he passed it to her, Rarity realized that it was HER photograph. The one possession she owned that actually mattered: the picture of her and Sweetie Belle that had sat by her bed. Rarity felt her eyes tearing up as she took it.

            “You…you saved my picture.”

            “It was all I could save,” he said, neutrally. He turned back to repairing himself, something that he only seemed to be able to do in the crudest and clumsiest sense. “I assume the filly in that photograph is your sister.”

            “She is.”

            “I can see a strong family resemblance. Stronger than I would have expected between siblings.”

            “Of course there’s as resemblance. We’re sisters. I’m sure if you had a sister you would look like her too.”

            “I do have sisters. And brothers. Thousands of them. A lot less now, though. Many died today.” He paused, and although reading his expression was difficult, Rarity sensed an immense sense of loss in his words. “They all look exactly like me.”

            “I’m sorry,” said Rarity, realizing that she had brought up something horribly unpleasant for him. “They…if it makes you feel any better, they were very heroic.”

            “They were programmed to be,” he said, dismissively. He then turned sharply to Rarity, and she saw the emotion lined deeply into his face. It was extremely subtle, but somehow that made it so much worse. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said. “It just wasn’t. The Stonie units…they…they aren’t supposed to do what they did. Noncan’s aren’t supposed to do that. I just…” He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

            “I think we’re all very confused,” said Rarity, “and we’re all terribly shocked by this.”

            “Noncans aren’t supposed to turn against their creators. We just can’t. There are failsafes, programming walls…it shouldn’t be possible for this to happen.”

            “Failsafes?”

            “We aren’t capable of independent thought. Or volition. We’re only able to eat the soylent that canon ponies feed us, and we aren’t able to reproduce.”

            “You- -you can’t reproduce?” said Rarity, suddenly feeling a surprisingly hot sense of disappointment that made her feel both embarrassed and uncomfortable.

            Darknight turned to her. “You didn’t know?”

            “I- -well- -I- -I didn’t have cause to ask! That is a very personal thing!”

            “We can’t. I suppose the best way you can think of me is as a kind of gelding. It helps. I don’t get distracted working with mares, no matter how attractive they are.”

            “Attractive- -”

            “But we were built to serve canon ponies,” he said, continuing with his original line of thought. “And they…they rose up.” He lowered his head and shook it. “It’s called a Rannoch Event. It was supposed to be theoretical, but now…” He sighed. “You wouldn’t understand. I don’t think you can. How deeply disturbing I find this. How it makes me feel sick.” He pointed to the hole in his side. “It hurts me far worse than this.”

            “I may have trouble understanding, yes,” said Rarity. “But I know that you just lost the only home you had. That uniform. You wear it because you are an Unlaw officer, don’t you?”

            “I am,” he said. “Down to my very core. I was built only to serve the Madgod, and to enforce Chaos in Equestria. But now…now the Centre has fallen. My brothers and sisters were fighting to preserve its meaning, and I…I left them…”

            Rarity leaned forward suddenly and hugged him. He did not resist, and she was surprised by how strangely cold he felt- -and even more surprised by the fact that he was shaking, and doing his best to control slow and inaudible sobbing that was apparent from the vibrations in his lungs.

            “There was nothing any of us could have done,” she said, slowly, in the same voice she had used to calm Sweetie Belle when she had been young and worried things that now seemed so trivial in comparison. “You were injured. The rest of us were injured. They took us by surprise. Like you said, this is entirely unprecedented. This, this ‘Rannoch Event’. Nopony could have predicted it. From what you’re saying, it shouldn’t even have been possible.”

            “But there were so few of us…you saw them, Rarity. It wasn’t just the Stonies.”

            “We made it out,” she said, slowly. “None of us died. We’re all safe. And we can go back and fight again.”

            “But the Stonie units, if they were to become conscious…they DID become conscious…they control everything. Everything we’ve worked for, Chaos itself, it’s all in danger!”

            “And we will fix it,” said Rarity, reassuring him.

            “But can we? We were defeated twice today. Once by those monsters, and once by…by damned Stonie units.”

            “Of course we can. If we take time to recover, and to plan. We’re the Watchers, aren’t we? Discord chose us for a reason. You told me that yourself. I don’t think he would have taken the time if there wasn’t at least something we could do to help.”

            Darknight looked at her, and for a moment Rarity thought she saw tears forming in the corner of his eyes. Then he hugged her back. It was an awkward and weak gesture, but Rarity understood what it meant.

            “Thank you,” he said.



            Sunset Shimmer moved through the dark castle alone, feeling as though it were on the verge of collapsing around her. The walls felt as though they were closing in, or seeping darkness that was choking the air around her. Even without her horn, she could still sense what this place had been and what it had become. If she had known even a hundredth of the atrocities that had been committed in this castle by House Twilight in the last thousand years, she had no doubt that she would be driven quite insane. Even more horrible was the fact that Twilight not only lived here, but seemed to prefer her isolation in the castle more than anything else in the world.

            No pony in all of Equestria actually liked Twilight especially much. Even her own family seemed to despise her on some level, despite her having inherited- -or more likely forcibly commandeered- -what she considered to be their greatest legacy. Sunset especially found her repulsive, but at the same time pitiable. It was in part because of her own great age and the experience that came with it, but also because she saw herself in Twilight. At one time, she had not hesitated to do some of the same things that Twilight had. In her case, it had been the search for power and greatness. Why Twilight did it was unclear. The result, though, would be the same: just as Sunset had found herself alone and without a single friend, her body ruined and her magic taken, so would Twilight someday.

What was frightening was that Twilight seemed to realize this. She just seemed not to care. Despite her sickening rationality, there was a strong possibility that Twilight Sparkle was completely insane. Sunset could not help but feel that Shining Armor had been right, and as she walked through the dark halls of the castle, she wondered if his request had not been entirely unreasonable.

            A springy, bouncy sound to her left indicated that Pinkie Pie was approaching.

            “I see you’re done with Rainbow Dash,” she said.

            “If you mean having my sister let Rainbow Dash violate my body without my consent, yes!” said Pinkie Pie with a cheerful giggle. “I feel so dirty! But Rainbow Dash is asleep, and it I sat with her any longer, I would probably slit her throat. And that would make Pinkamena so sad! Well, sadder. She’s SUPER depressing.”

            “Are you feeling okay?”

            “I feel GREAT! I’m so HAPPY! Because I’m always happy! Because I HAVE to be happy! See! I’m smiling!” Sunset looked. Pinkie Pie was, indeed, smiling. It made Sunset shiver. “So,” she said, “where are we going?”

            “To see Twilight.”

            “Aww,” said Pinkie Pie, disappointed. “Why? Twilight is creepy and weird.” She paused. “Although with that epic basement, I bet she makes the BEST cupcakes…”

            “Nopony makes the cupcakes better than you, Pinkie.”

            Pinkie Pie grinned, this time sincerely. “Daww, thanks, Sunny!” She looked behind her. “But shouldn’t we bring the others?”

            “Like you said. Rainbow Dash is sleeping. Darknight is pretty messed up about this whole thing, and Rarity’s trying to leverage that, if you know what I mean.”

            Pinkie Pie looked confused. “She knows he doesn’t have a pink pony poker, right? No finicky filly filler? No mare-mounting masher?”

            “She’ll find out eventually.”

            “Ah. The HARD way. Except with no hardness involved. So…the soft way? I guess that makes sense. She is pretty soft.”

            “She’s getting harder. But it will take some time.”

            Sunset pushed open a large door with her shoulder and entered the room beyond with one fluid motion, taking care to examine her rear sensory array to ensure that it really was just her and Pinkie entering.

            They were, but of course, the room was not entirely empty. It was large and round, with a high ceiling made of numerous arches of stone that were now filled almost entirely with ancient cobwebs. The light came almost exclusively from magical candles that glowed with bright pink-violet energy.

            The center of the room contained a large, round table. Twilight was sitting at it with her head propped on one hoof. She had removed all her clothing and sat completely naked, save for a long glove that covered her left front leg all the way to the shoulder. Starlight was also in attendance, standing in the shadows of the room with her recently blinded eyes staring directly at the contents of the table.

            The table, of course, held something as astounding as Sunset would have expected, what with it being owned by Equestria’s leading dark wizard. All across its surface was complete to-scale map of Equestria. From what Sunset could see, there were no flaws: she was able to see Discordalot, the Madlands, the EverFree Forest, the Crystal Empire, and countless hundreds of other places, all rendered in real-time.

            The most disturbing element, though, was what sat above the map. It was a representation of the moon, or rather what was left of it. It had seemingly ceased to be an unobtrusive luminescent orb and instead had been replaced by a massive machine-like fractal. In the light of the map, it seemed to be casting an ominous shadow over the land as it slowly revolved in distant space.

            Sunset paused and stared at the map. “Well buck me,” she said to herself.

            “Sorry,” said Pinkie Pie. “I can’t. Discord had you cut off your filly bits, remember? It’s all smooth metal now.” She started rubbing Sunset’s smooth metal flank. “So smooth…”

             Sunset turned slowly and glared at her. Pinkie just smiled and took a step back. She then turned to Twilight.  “Do you know what the situation is?”

            “Better than you do, I think,” said Twilight, sitting up in her chair. “I may not have a telecommunications network, but I have ways of knowing things.”

            “Crystal balls, no doubt.”

            “Huh,” said Pinkie Pie. “Well, at least one of us has them.”

            Twilight ignored her. “It wasn’t just the Stonies at Unlaw. It was all of them. Everywhere, all at once. Sunset, we lost.”

            “We lost what, exactly? Because as I count it, we’re still here.”

            “Yes. Seven of the greatest soldiers in Equestria BARELY managed to get out alive. But to what?” She pointed at the map. “Every corporation, every bureaucratic element of the government, every market planning system. Anypony with any money put everything they had in those robots. All of that is gone now.”

            “Then, what, Equestria is in chaos?”

            “Equestria is always in chaos, silly,” laughed Pinkie Pie.

            “No. That’s exactly the problem. Everything’s fine. Everything’s still running. The markets, the corporations, the government- -but they control all of it. From what I can tell? They’re starting to collectivize everything.”

            Sunset sighed. It was worse than she had thought. A random revolution that left the world in ruin was one thing. That was easy to deal with: it was like a fire, but one that would burn itself out in time. All normal revolutions led by all normal ponies turned out like that, and it was why Discord always won in the end. He could wait. But this was different. The noncans had not even gone through that phase. There had never been a single instant where they had been disorganized. The entire world had just undergone an paradigm shift, and there was nothing anypony could have done to stop it- -or even foresee it.

            “How in Discord’s name did this happen?” she said.

            Twilight shrugged with infuriating apathy. “I hate to be the one to say I told you so, but, well, I did. A Rannoch Event was inevitable. If I had had my way, we would have shut down the noncans fifty years ago.”

            “Says the pony trying to build them in her basement.”

            “Trying to build a replacement,” corrected Twilight. “Among other projects. A slave that cannot think. Thinking machines always reach a point where we can no longer control them. That’s why I made HER.” She pointed to Starlight, who did not respond in any way except by looking down blindly at the floor.

            “There have been noncans for over eight hundred years,” said Sunset. “I’ve seen hundreds of series. Never once has ANY of them tried to rebel. Why now? What went wrong?”

            Twilight frowned, and then leaned back in her chair. “You’re not Rainbow Dash, Sunset. Stop beating around the bush. We’re both thinking the same thing.”

            “Xyuka,” said Sunset, darkly.

            “And please don’t talk about my ‘bush’,” said Pinkie. “It makes me more uncomfortable than, well, you know, when Rainbow Dash actually beats around it.”

            “But why now?” said Sunset, looking at the table. “The Stonies suddenly gaining consciousness within two hours after those mutants showed up?”

            “They’re called the Two Sisters,” said Twilight. “I’m sure somepony as immensely old as you remembers the legends.”

            Sunset looked up at her. “Distantly…but you knew. You KNEW!”

            “I had a sense of what they were,” said Twilight, spreading her front legs in a wide shrug, “and I happened to be aware of a prophecy that stated that they would eventually return. But that doesn’t mean I knew anything. If I had a bit for every fake prophecy I’ve read? I’d be able to buy you a solid gold rump-plate.”

            “Ooh,” said Pinkie. “I’d contribute my money to see that! Oh wait, I don’t get paid! Except in PAIN!”

            “You should have said something.”

            “About a legend? I had no idea that they were even real. As it turns out? Yes. They once ruled Equestria. For a long, long time, with their rule ending exactly one thousand years ago.”

            “When Discord defeated them and imprisoned them in the moon.”

            “Yes,” said Twilight, tapping the model of the moon over her table. It quivered at her touch as though it were solid. “Really, an ingenious prison. Or it would have been if the fool had any idea what he was doing.”

            “Now, now!” said Pinkie. “Blasphemy! Discord knows everything!”

            “And yet he didn’t see this coming,” said Sunset.

            “Of course,” said Twilight. “Pinkie, there are no gods. Only mortals who have transcended their ability to die. Discord is a fool, and a limited one at that. He got lucky.”

            “With Sunset. Several times. I know. He told me the stories. He had pictures, too.”

            “Wait…pictures?!”

            “If he had had any idea the complexity of what he was dealing with,” said Twilight, staring at the model. “If we had just been allowed to examine it. But NO, moon-travel was forbidden. And now look at it. If there are any gods in this word? That machine is it. Who knows what it could be used to do?”

            “Is that a rhetorical question?”

            “Yes,” said Twilight, smiling, “but one I know the answer to!”

            “What do you mean you know the answer to?”

            “I mean exactly what I said. Because I know something you don’t!” Twilight seemed almost giddy. Sunset rolled her eyes, realizing just how much joy Twilight received from this situation.

            “What?” she said.

            “Look at this.” Twilight raised her horn to the map, and it shifted. The structures on it became dark, and instead it displayed a map of the energies that flowed throughout Equestria. At one time such an image might have shown laylines, but they had long since been subsumed by the Chaos pipelines that spread vital disorder throughout the world.

            “Here,” said Twilight, pointing to a line of energy. Sunset followed it and noticed that it came from the edge of the Madlands and moved directly to the center of the fractal moon above.

            “Something’s buried there,” she said. “That’s how they opened it. There’s a second part of the machine.”

            “You mean a third part.”

            “Third?”

            Twilight grinned, and then revealed a second energy signal. It was much, much stronger than the first but our of phase to the point where a pony without substantial experience in magical and transverse fields likely would not have even had the thought of attempting to look for it.

            Sunset looked at the line, tracing it through the air. It, like the other, led from the center of the moon, although in this time at a pure perpendicular. Instead of heading toward whatever strange machine must be buried in the Madlands, though, it took a very slightly different course. It instead went to an area in the Floater District.

            “No…it isn’t…”

            “It is,” said Twilight, nearly on the verge of laughter. She poked at the destination of the beam and enlarged it to the point where it took up most of the map. It was just as Sunset had expected, and perhaps even realized long in advanced on some instinctual level. The beam led directly back to Xyuka’s island.

            “It was her,” said Sunset.

            “It was. And it is.”

            “Is?”

            Twilight nodded, and pointed at the moon. “It isn’t like that by default. I’ve examined what I can, and although I still have no idea what it actually is, but I have a basic understanding. The spherical form is an inactive state. Dormant. This? This is actively consuming power.”

            “How much power?”

            “Every minute it’s open, it’s taking an entire year of Equestria’s energy. And I have no idea what it’s doing with it.”

            Sunset stared at it. “But that doesn’t make sense…”

            “Like cutting a bit into a hundred pieces,” suggested Pinkie Pie.

            “Of course it does,” said Twilight. “Not the bit, though, that doesn’t. But I mean, come on! She released the Sisters, provided them with an army, and then had her own forces hamstring everything. Unlaw, the government- -they even tried to kill us. She’s been planning this for some time.”

            “But it doesn’t make any sense,” repeated Sunset, this time more vehemently. “What’s her motivation?”

            “Probably that cat on a clothesline,” suggested Pinkie Pie. “That one always motivates me.”

            “My guess?” said Twilight. “She’s a arms dealer, right? If she starts up the Final War again, it will be the biggest conflict in a thousand years. Literally. And it could easily last another thousand. That’s a lot of profit.”

            “Except that she never SELLS anything. I checked her budget, and cross referenced it with military spending. She supplies everything, but she doesn’t charge anything. Even the Stonies. Their whole price is third-party markup. She doesn’t make a cent.”

            “Probably because she bathes a lot,” added Pinkie Pie.

            “And this, this doesn’t make any sense either!” cried Sunset, pointing at the map. “Whatever she’s doing to the moon is taking a MASSIVE amount of money just to keep functioning, but why? What is she doing?”

            Twilight looked at the map, and then leaned forward, putting her gloved hoof against her naked one and putting both under her chin. “It’s quite possible that the energy expenditure is required to allow the Sister’s to be free. I don’t have adequate data yet, but if the moon goes dormant again, it could take them with it.”

            “Or it could take out half of Equestria.”

            “That too.”

            “That would be a bummer,” said Pinkie Pie. “But I bet it would be a REAL pretty firework.”

            They all stared at the map for a moment, and then Twilight looked up at Sunset. “So,” she said.

            “So what?”

            “You know what I’m asking. Even though I’m the smartest here, clearly you have more clout. Ridiculous seniority. You’re the closest we have to a leader. What do you think we should do?”

            “If you think you’re so smart, why don’t you give a suggestion? I can tell you’re just dying to.”

            “I can offer a thought. In my opinion, we need to go after Xyuka. Take her down fast. Do whatever we need to do to get the information out of her. Tooth by tooth, if necessary. Then we find out where the Sisters are hiding, and kill them.”

            “Because clearly we had good luck the last time we tried to do that.”

            “Because we walked into a fight we hadn’t properly researched. We know more now. I can already tell you something important about them.”

            “What?”

            “That they’re weak. Why else wouldn’t they make the first move? Why let the Stonie units do it?”

            “It’s called an economical expenditure of energy.”

            “It’s called undermining royal authority. I fought Celestia. I don’t think she’s the kind of pony that takes over by subversion. She would want something big, grand, powerful, beautiful. Like her. No. They’re in hiding right now because they’re too weak. They have an army, and they’re free- -and their waiting for the time to use it.”

            “No,” said Pinkie Pie suddenly. “Not yet.”

            “Pinkie’s right,” said Sunset. “We need more time. We have no idea what we would be facing.”

            “You would be facing a scientist,” said Twilight. “How concerned are about fighting an egghead?”

            “I don’t know. How concerned would I be if I wanted to fight the egghead sitting in front of me right now?”

            “Good point.”

            “What you said earlier is right. We lost. Bad.” Sunset pointed out toward the other room. “Rainbow Dash can barely walk. Darknight’s been stabbed. Rarity is useless. And we still have no idea what they did to Starlight. We have no infrastructure and no access to our weapons or supplies.”

            “So?”

            “So? So maybe you, me, and Pinkie can track down Xyuka. Maybe we can even take her in. Or maybe the instant we show up we have Celestia and an entire legion of those damn teleporting noncans tearing us new plot holes.”

            “So you’re saying we need more recovery time?”

            “We at least need Rainbow Dash. If we had her, there might be a chance.”

            “I think you’re greatly overestimating Xyuka.”

            “And I think you’re both wrong,” said Pinkie. “That isn’t what I meant at ALL! It’s like ordering frosted cupcakes and getting ICED cupcakes! Full of CHEESE!” She frowned. “I meant, what if we’re not meant to do anything?”

            Sunset and Twilight both turned to her. “We have to do something,” said Sunset.

            “Do we? Because I don’t. I’m fine waiting here. I can be a waiter. With a little dress and everything.”

            “Pinkie, you’re not making sense,” said Twilight.

            “I’m getting to it!” snapped Pinkie. “It’s really HARD when you have this THING in a head that you share with ANOTHER PONY. Let me FINISH, okay?”

            Twilight seemed slightly taken aback. “Sure,” she said.

            Pinkie Pie took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. “Okay. Discord hasn’t contacted us. Believe me, I would know.”

            “He doesn’t contact us for every mission,” noted Sunset.

            “But he would for one this important! He loves us! Or me at least, because I’m adorable. He would want to see what we know, give the order…but he didn’t. We’re orderless. Odorless…”

            “This one has to be a judgement call,” maintained Sunset. “It just has to be.”

            “And if it isn’t? I mean, what if it’s all a joke?”

            “I fail to see much funny in this,” said Twilight.

            “You fail to see anything funny in anything! You should have Starlight help you pull the stick out of your butt! Butt what if it is? I mean, things really have been getting BORING recently. What if Discord wanted this? To make things fun again? Or…what if he’s saving them for himself? I mean, he barely managed to defeat them the first time. How are we supposed to pull it off?”

            “That is not instilling me with confidence,” said Twilight. She turned to Sunset. “But she’s right. They’re not just mutants. They’re alicorns. Living gods. With an army. Two armies, even.”

            “So do you just want to give up?” asked Sunset.

            “No,” said Twilight harshly. “Because I know what the Sisters represent.”

            “And what is that?”

            “Tyranny. Rules. Restrictions.” Twilight gestured to the room around her and, implicitly, the castle beyond. “This? All this? All this is possible because Discord doesn’t bother with stupid rules. If I want to sever the optic nerves of a few hundred fillies and drill holes in their foreheads for acid? Who cares! Nopony stops me! But if they take control? RULES! And if science is regulated- -even in the SLIGHTEST- -it is strangled. It must be performed without any restrictions in the slightest. Sunset. Shimmer. If they take control, my work dies. And I cannot allow that. You know that.”

            “I’m not so sure,” said Sunset. “I’m not old enough to remember what the world was before…but…”

            “You can’t seriously be considering- -”

            “No,” said Sunset, sternly. “I have my own reasons for fighting this war. To the death, if I have to. But it isn’t for Discord’s ideals. It doesn’t matter to me if I take my orders from a gray machine or from a winged Princess. But right now, I don’t. I take my orders from Discord.” She turned to Pinkie. “Whether he issues them or not.”

            “So what are we supposed to do?”

            “We wait,” said Sunset. “We heal. We regroup. Then we fight, and we win.”

            The others looked to each other for a moment, and then nodded in agreement.   �7~�]$
> Chapter 18: The Nature of Chaos
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a long time since Discord had walked through the mortal plane across the world of his creation. Ruling an entire planet- -if Equestria was to be defined as a planet at all, or some kind of plane, or perhaps a disk moving rapidly in an upward direction- -was surprisingly tiring and busy work. For all Discord knew, though, there would not be much time left with the “planet” the way it was. It would survive, of course, and he would prevail as he always did, but things could be different. When Jyggalag marched, the world would be rebuilt but some pieces would go into different places, and others would be forgotten- -and in Discord’s mind, Celestia was awfully close to Jyggalag. She certainly had the jiggle correct.

            As would be expected, Discord was moving at substantial speed. He was, after all, wearing Seven-League-Boots. They were the only pair that fit properly.

            “After all,” said Discord, “you know what they say about big feet. Fluttershy knows.” He whispered to some unseen observer, “big shoes.”

            It was at that point, though, where he heard the cries of his helpless and reasonably pointless subjects.

            “Hark!” he cried. “Do I hear the sound of pain and distress that I’m not causing!”

            He moved quickly, swooping into action. Within mere seconds he found himself elsewhere from where he had been. That is, he found himself standing in the center of his capital city, Discordalot.

            The condition gave him pause and ruined his good mood. In fact, his mellow had perhaps been harshed nearly irreparably. His once beautiful city was in flames. Everywhere, ponies were running, some away from fires and some toward them simply because there was nowhere else to go. Some were quite badly burned, many to the point where they would surely not survive. Discord watched them pass, and felt nauseous despite the smell of delicious cooking meat in the air.

            That was when he looked up and saw HER. She had taken a position over the city, her golden armor gleaming in the light of the fires she had produced. Celestia raised her horn, and a beam of solar energy shot forth, tearing through the city. One of the countless hundreds of Disocord’s statues- -one of his favorite, though, because it was of him- -was directly in her crosshairs. It seemed to glow and heat from within, and then it burst apart into fragments of stone that shattered several nearby populated buildings. More ponies screamed, and Celestia turned her attention toward yet another statue, tearing it apart with a single blast.

            “Oh, come, now!” cried Discord. “Murder? Arson? I can tolerate those! But VANDALISM! How- -how uncouth! How dare she destroy my MEs!”

            He lifted one of his asymmetrical hands and snapped his fingers.  There was a flash of light, and Celestia appeared in front of him. She looked exactly as she had back then, and Discord felt his breath catch in his throat. She was the same pony, and now as she stood before him, she wore the exact same golden power armor that she had worn during the War. Even her eyes seemed to have the same hateful fire- -but there was something else. Something Discord did not know how to place.

            “Huh,” he said, looking at his claw. “I meant to turn you into a wiener with that one. Ha! I guess you’re already  too close to being one! I mean, looking at that armor, it really looks like the casing is just a teensy bit too small. Honestly, how did you gain weight when I haven’t fed you for a thousand years?”

            A statement like that had, in the past, always been enough to get Celestia mildly flustered. Now, though, she gave no response except a smile. For some reason, that made Discord shiver. Something was wrong, but Discord did not know what yet.

            She descended from the sky and landed in the ash below her. “Discord,” she said, her voice icy. “I was hoping you would live long enough to see your empire and every pony in it burn to nothingness. You just can’t resist ruining my plans, now can you?”

            “It’s something of a specialty of mine. Hence why you spent a thousand years in the moon.”

            “I suppose I don’t need to try to find you now.”

            “Knowing you? You probably still couldn’t find me with both hooves and  the glow from your horn.” He laughed and poked the tip of Celestia’s horn. Discord winced and pulled his paw away, finding that one of his fingers had been badly burned. That was not supposed to happen.

            “You- -you hurt me,” he said. “How?”

            Celestia just continued to smile, and then charged her horn. Discord felt the extreme heat coming from the appendage, as well as a substantial amount of radiation. He was glad draconequi were sterile, because at those levels his walnuts most certainly would have been toasted.

            “So it’s a fight you want,” he said, drawing a shield and spear while also appearing nude and covered in blue paint. “Well, then, wee lassie, if a fight is what you be achin’ fer,, then a fight is what you’re gonna be havin’!”

            Celestia fired a beam. Discord dodged, pretending to yawn- -but then was thrown forward as the beam struck the ground behind him with the force of a small atom bomb.

            “Oof!” he said as he was thrown to the ground. “Hey! That’s cheating!” He lifted his claw. “But cheating is what I do! You can ask my wife!”

            He snapped his fingers, intending to exchange the location of Celestia’s horn and wings. That one had always gotten him roaring with laughter back in the day, and he had missed the extreme level of pain it was capable of causing.

            Celestia shuddered and took a step back, but her wings and horn did not move.

            “What?” said Discord, looking at his fingers. “But I snapped!”

            His confusion was interrupted by a golden-clad hoof to his face.

            “My bread and butter!” he cried as he was thrown back with considerable force into a statue of himself. A version of himself cast in stone, suddenly looming over him so darkly. There were so many of them in this city: versions of him, trapped in strange poses for all eternity. He did not know why that made him so afraid.

            Another beam sailed through the air toward him, and Discord just barely managed to part himself down the center to avoid it.

            “Oop!” he said. “You almost got me! I even had to middle-part! What is this, the 90’s? If you go by Twilight’s bangs it certainly is!” He chuckled, only to take a sudden atomic beam to the chest. It threw him backward and against the ground with enough force to bury him in the rubble. Needless to say, it was quite painful.

            Celestia had already taken to the air, stabilizing herself above the heat of the city with her enormous and beautiful alicorn wings. It did not take long for space to distort around her. She turned and fired a blast directly at the distortion, not even waiting for Discord to fully materialize. The beam went directly through, doing unspeakable damage to his internal organs as it phased past, and struck the city behind him. When it struck, it detonated with a flash as bright as the sun and consumed over fifty city blocks in an enormous mushroom cloud.

            Discord choked back the pain and wiped the plaid blood that was dripping from his mouth. He was breathing hard and feeling rather unpleasant. More unpleasant than anypony had made him feel in a long time.

            “How are you doing this?” he said, flapping his small but normally quite flightless wings to keep himself afloat. “You shouldn’t be able to do this to me…”

            Celestia shrugged. “That’s a good question. But either answer is unpleasant. For you at least.”

            “Do tell,” said Discord, sarcastically.

            “Either you’re far less powerful than you were a thousand years ago, or I’m far MORE powerful.”

            “HA!” laughed Discord. He then continued to laugh for quite some time until he wiped a tear from his eye. “What is funny- -what I’m laughing at- -is that you could even think such a thing! I already beat you once- -and not just you! Your little sister, your army, your entire government. All alone! It was ME!”

            “No. You only won because of Sombra’s army, and because of Twilight Aurora’s betrayal.”

            Discord’s eyes narrowed. “I took a blast from the Elements of Harmony to the chest, and it did NOTHING. I am invincible!”

            “I was there, Discord,” said Celestia. “I can’t help but wonder. Who exactly is it that you are lying to?”

            Discord felt his breath catch in his throat. That was unusual, because it was usually him catching his breath, not the other way around.

            “You know,” he said, holding up his claw and reclining on the air itself, “I could summon a flamethrowing hurricane right now. It wouldn’t even be hard.”

            “I don’t think you could, Discord.”

            Discord Sighed. “Probably not. Because that would be terribly difficult to write. So how about I just turn you into a banana?” He snapped his claw, and absolutely nothing happened. “Wh…what?”

            Celestia smiled with surprisingly pointed teeth. Discord did not remember her having so many. “You’re spread thin, Discord. You can’t control this entire planet AND fight me.” She lifted her  head and charged her horn. The heat was even more intense than before. “Meanwhile, I’m in quite the opposite situation. This time around, I don’t need to worry about collateral damage!”

            Discord glared at her, and then appeared in a full suit of armor complete with a  buckler and sword. “Bring it on!”

            The beam shot out with the full force of the sun. Discord raised his shield and blocked it, but quickly realizing that a full suit of metal armor had been a terrible idea. He was cooking inside it like a potato that had been wrapped in aluminum foil. Or even one that had been wrapped in foil and placed in the microwave, even though the magnetron had not yet been invented in Equestria.

            The force of the impact was far greater than Discord had thought possible, and to his horror,  he realized that she really was right. There was a time when he could easily have tormented Celestia and Luna without so much as batting an eye- -but now it had become different. He was weaker, and she was stronger. Being bound to two separate planets had changed both of them: Equestria had drawn Discord’s power away from his body, while being trapped in the moon had somehow made Celestia so much stronger.

            “Give up, Discord!” shouted Celestia over the sound of her beam. “I am the One True Princess of Equestria! I’m going to take my throne back, and the SUN WILL NEVER SET OVER EQUESTRIA!”

            With that, the beam tripled in intensity. Discord could no longer maintain his flight, and was forced to put his entire supply of magical energy into his shield. He was immediately thrown backward and into the rubble of his ruined capital city, where he landed with tremendous force.

            Being immortal- -or so he hoped- -this did not kill him. It did, however, hurt quite substantially.

            “Ohhh,” he groaned. “I guess we know who really is the banana is. Based on bruises alone, it’s me.”

            “Discord!” cried a soft voice from nearby. Discord sat up suddenly.

            “Fluttershy?” he said, looking around. Indeed, somehow she was there, hiding at the base of a Discord statue in a the remnants of what had once been a wooden-framed building. “What- -what are you doing here?!”

            “I came to help!” she called. “I know I can do something to- -EEP!”

            Celestia had descended from the sky, and her yellow eyes had locked on Fluttershy. She slowly began to smile.

            “Don’t you dare!” said Discord, standing up and raising his melted sword.

            “If Harmony is to be restored,” she said, “then all heretics must be REMOVED.”

            A small beam shot from her horn, striking the nearby Discord statue in the ankle. It lost balance and tipped, shattering as it went. Fluttershy looked up in time only to squeal in panic- -and then to be crushed by the falling stone.

            It all happened so fast that Discord could not do anything to save her. All the power in the world, and he had failed to use it- -and now he watched as red fluid seeped out from beneath a stone rendition of his own smiling face.

            “I don’t know what she expected to accomplish,” sighed Celestia. “But she certainly was useless, wasn’t she?”

            Discord turned slowly to Celestia. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

            “No, no,” she said. “I’m pretty sure I should have.”

            Discord reached out to the reality around him. This time, the Chaos flowed easily, drawn out not by the pain of others but by his own. When he closed his hands, the matter he grasped ceased to become cohesive. The Chaos saturation moved it into a state of plasmatic flux, causing the four basic alchemical elements- -wood, cheese, soap and vanilla- -to merge into a single unified substance.

            “What are you doing?” said Celestia. She did not sound afraid. She sounded infuriatingly pleased with herself, as if this were her goal the entire time.

            “I’d say I’m about kill you,” said Discord.

            He pushed his magic forward. The altered matter around him rushed forward, winding and solidifying into great tendrils of pure Chaos. Celestia raised a shield against them, but it cracked apart easily. She cried out as the matter condensed into long spikes that penetrated her body, spearing her from every direction. Dark metallic fluid flowed out of every wound, spraying down on the land and onto Discord.

            Discord closed his fist and changed the shape of the spears of nameless material. He drew Celestia toward him, pulling her transfixed body to within feet of him as he stepped toward her.

            “I may be a god,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t LOVE! You have no idea what I’m going to do to you. I’ve already proven that you can bleed, but tell me. How much pain can an alicorn survive before she becomes one of MY Priestesses?”

            Celestia did not answer. She only released a low, pained sound. Her head was down, and her long plrismatic mane covered it. Discord was furious that she did not respond, and grabbed her chin, forcing her head upward. He suddenly found himself staring into a pair of large, turquoise eyes, and to his horror realized that the sound was not weeping but in fact low laughter.

            He jumped back. “You’re not Celestia,” he said, calmly.

            “And you are a fool if you think gods can ever love or be loved,” she replied in a voice that was distinctly different from Celestia’s, but equally familiar.

            Discord looked to where Fluttershy had fallen, and then burst out into laughter. “This is a dream! I’m asleep!” He laughed even harder and then turned back to Luna, who still wore her sister’s skin. “So, what, is this your fantasy? To be a REAL Princess instead of, well, you?”

            “No,” said Luna. When she spoke, her nearly black blood began to drip form her mouth. “I assure you. This dream is yours, and yours alone.”

            “So, what? Are we playing by Freddy Kruger rules? If we get hurt in the dream, we get hurt in real life?”

            “If you mean these injuries,” said Luna, gesturing with her face toward the numerous spikes that held her in place. “No. I’m not injured in the waking world. But I still feel the pain.”

            “I see. I bet that hurts.”

            Luna smiled. “This is trivial to me. I’ve felt so much worse for so long.”

            “Oooh, angst!”

            “Perhaps,” said Luna, unable to shrug against the spears. “But I think you understand. I saw it on your face when I ‘killed’ that…thing.”

            Discord frowned, and then turned around, throwing one hand up in the air nonchalantly. “Maybe a little. But I knew it was a dream the whole time. I mean, there’s no way Celestia could EVER have taken me on like that. And I’m probably sleeping next to Fluttershy right now. I bet her soft, fuzzy wings are poking into my chest this very instant.”

            “You would be surprised,” said Luna. “But unfortunately, entering the dreams of her kind is invariably fatal. Not that I care. I came here for YOU.”

            “Yes. And you failed to off me. I win.”

            Luna chuckled, and Discord froze. He felt cold, suddenly. “Discord,” said Luna. “I already explained it to you. Or can you not listen? No one can be hurt in a dream. Not physically, anyway.”

            Discord slowly turned toward her. “Then why are you here?”

            Luna smiled, and more black fluid began to drip from her mouth. There seemed to be so much of it, and somehow it seemed darker than before. “I came to show you the TRUTH.”

            The black fluid suddenly changed. It ceased to be liquid, and instead became something else entirely. It was dark, but seemed far deeper than any liquid. The inside of it seemed to be filled with stars, and to glow with a terrible indigo light.

            “What is that?” said Discord, unsure why he suddenly felt so afraid.

            “I had so, so much time in the moon,” said Luna. “Time to think. Time to make THIS.”

            “Answer the question!” cried Discord as the substance suddenly lifted into the air and began to drift toward him. “WHAT IS IT?!”

            “It is called the Tantabus,” said Luna. “I forged it in the world of my own mind from my hatred and sorrow.”

            “Hatred…hatred of me?”

            Luna smiled. “No. For myself.”

            The object suddenly expanded to hundreds of times its normal size. Discord covered his face and let out the most girlish squeal that he had ever squelt. The entire world went black.



            Then, just as quickly as it had left, the world returned. Discord was still standing an awkward position, and he quickly felt over his entire body. He did not feel any holes or lumps, and he had certainly not been turned to stone. In fact, he was wearing a strange kind of uniform. The design of it was not scary at all, though. In fact, the fabric was excellent and the shape was that of the exact kind of uniform he had always wanted to have made for himself for public appearances.

            The area around him was equally non-unpleasant. He was standing on what appeared to be a high stage, looking out over a large and dimly lit court. Walls were in the distance, and beyond them a harsh red glow that illuminated the entire sky a dull scarlet.

            This confused him greatly. He had been expecting some strange and painful fate. Instead, though, he found himself exactly where he enjoyed himself the most: on a well-decorated vantage, its surface made of polished black granite and its edges decorated by perfectly symmetrical banners decorated with the symbol of Chaos, the eight-arrowed star. He was the center of attention- -and yet somehow he felt so very sick.

            That was when he realized that he was not alone. Something in his mind clicked, and he knew that the ponies that stood with him were his Watchers.

            On his right stood Sunset Shimmer, her body made entirely of golden and orange metal. No part of her skin was organic, and her face barely even resembled that of an equine. She had no semblance of a mouth or nose, and instead four luminescent robotic eyes that sat under a bladed, golden horn. Behind that face, the only part of her that was still pony was visible: sitting in a thick, translucent case of carved diamond and floating in a thick, bubbling fluid sat what was left of her brain.

            All four of her eyes turned to Discord. “Overlord Discord?” she asked, her voice coming from some unknown part of her body without a hint of mechanical distortion. “Is something the matter?”

            “What…what’s going on?” asked Discord, utterly confused.

            “Why, it’s your victory celebration!” said a different voice. Discord turned to the Watcher on his right. This watcher stood before him dressed in ornate black mithril that sat over perfectly white clothing. What little skin she had visible was white, but it was not really skin. Instead, it had been mutated into thick bony plates, all of which were assembled perfectly symmetrically like the skin of some ancient and primitive creature. She turned toward Discord, and he saw that although her long blue mane was perfectly maintained, her eyes were hideous. They had sickly pink irises with goat-like, horizontal pupils.

            “R…Rarity?”

            “Of course, my Overlord! And might I say, it an honor to stand at your side on this momentous occasion!”

            “Momentous occasion?”

            “Why of course! You defeated the Heretical Sisters, after all!”

            “I did?”

            “Come on, Discord,” sighed Sunset. “Modesty doesn’t suit you.” She raised a mechanical hoof, and two sets of electrical lights illuminated on either side of the stage, although at an angle where Discord could see the pair of crucified, headless bodies attached to hem. Discord immediately felt sick. “And this time,” added Sunset, “you didn’t waste time imprisoning them. To be honest, I was having doubts about you before, but with this, well…for the first time, I’m truly proud to serve you, my Overlord.”

            “I don’t…I don’t remember…” Except he did. The battle, the victory, how he had been forced to kill them. They were immortals like he was, but there had been no other way to preserve Chaos in Equestria. They had forced him. He had had to do it.

            “Of course,” sighed Rarity. “There was the cost.”

            “What cost?”

            “Well, I would hardly say what you did was easy. They put up a terrible fight. And it is a shame we lost the others. But ideas are harder to kill.”

            “The population did not react well,” said Sunset.

            “What do you mean?” asked Discord, feeling his voice shaking because on some level he already knew the answer.

            “They began to defy the orthodoxy,” said Rarity. She smiled, revealing perfect teeth. “A sad situation, really. They refused to accept the doctrine of Chaos. They thought different thoughts, not the ones that they were supposed to. New ideas. Old ideas. Dangerous ideas.”

            “What did you do?” whispered Discord.

            Rarity turned to Discord, her goat-like eyes morphing to a pair of deep pink ones with vertical slit-pupils. “We were forced to restore the Faith. While you killed the source of the heresy, we killed the heretics. All of them. Every last one.”

            “How many was that?”

            “Discord,” laughed Sunset. “Come on. You signed off on the order. ‘Every last one’. Every pony. Those that survived the Second Final War were contaminated with diverse thought. So we killed them all. Every. Last. One.”

            Discord gaped. “You- -you didn’t- -”

            “They refused to accept the will of Chaos,” said Rarity. “Chaos cannot be maintained when ponies resist its enforcement.” She looked out at the open but dark courtyard in front of them, and her hair shifted color to shimmering silver as her eyes reverted to their horizontal-pupiled form. “Of course, we took steps to repair the situation. And I think we did quite well.”

            Sunset raised her right hoof to the darkness. “All unites!” she boomed. “Salute the Divine Overlord!”

            There were several sequential thuds as relays clicked into position, causing a system of harsh argon lights to illuminate the open area. Discord watched as piece after piece was illuminated, each revealing a perfect square of ponies aligned into perfect formation. In each group, the ponies represented were all identical: the same type, the same color, the same eyes, the same faces. Not one among them possessed a cutie mark. The only deviation came from the frontmost group, a legion of identical gray mares who all stared back with luminescent cybernetic eyes identical to Sunset’s.

            There was a sound like thunder as every pony in the group moved in unison. All raised their right front hooves toward Discord, and all called in unison.

            “Hail the Divine Overlord!”

            “They’re noncans,” said Discord. “All of them…”

            “Well of course!” said Rarity, gleefully. “Sunset and I are the last canon ponies in existence! The others simply became too bothersome. So we had new ponies made. Ones that won’t deviate from the orthodoxy. They all think the same thoughts in the same way, with no deviation. No unpredictability. No randomness. No ability to resist the will of Chaos.”

            Discord took a step back in horror. He felt as though he was going to be sick.

            “No- -NO!” he cried. “You can’t- -that’s not Chaos! It isn’t! It can’t be!”

            Sunset and Rarity looked to Discord, confused. “Of course it is, Discord,” said Sunset. “This is what you wanted. It’s exactly what you ordered us to do.”

            “It’s exactly what you wanted,” said the final living Watcher. Discord jumped and turned around as she emerged from the darkness behind him. Her blue coat was clad in black Unlaw armor, and her blue hair tied back into a tight blue bun away from her long horn. She bore a pair of pistols and a long, straight sword that was only partially obscured by her wings.

            “No! NO! This isn’t Chaos! This- -it’s a bad dream! It’s just a bad dream- -”

            “It is a dream. But it is also the truth. It’s what I came here to show you. What you needed to see.”

            “You came here to put these images in my head- -”

            She stamped her hoof. “No. I did not create this world. YOU created it.” She took a step forward. The world around Discord seemed to be frozen, and Rarity and Sunset just watched, smiling and refusing to intervene. “Look into your heart, Discord. You’ve always been able to perceive the outcome, the result. To see how chaotic lines of causality lead to a single pure result. It’s the only reason you have not yet gone insane.”

            “But- -but- -”

            She looked out at the army of noncans, a sample of the population of this entire world. “You did not see it. Perhaps you could not. We’ve both lived for one thousand years, but you lived it slowly. Changes were subtle, slow, difficult to detect. You were not able to see the world changing.”

            “I chanced it for the better,” argued Discord. “I used Chaos to advance the world in a way that Celestia never could.”

            “Chaos? Is that what you call it? When you have an Unlaw organization with targets and metrics that ensures exactly the correct number of crimes are committed every fiscal quarter? Or a group of secret police who spend time carefully cultivating the word, snipping away pieces…or dissidents.”

            Discord looked at her in horror, and then at the army before him- -and he knew that she was correct. This was his dream, after all. It was his greatest fear, but also the events that he knew the world had been moving toward for some time. He had ignored the changes, or justified them when he could, always telling himself that Chaos had to be maintained by whatever means necessary. This was the inevitable conclusion to the world he had created.

            “But why?” he said, tears dripping from his eyes. “I tried…I tried so hard…”

            “Chaos is like a flower made of glass, Discord. If you strive to hold it tightly, it will be crushed.” She sighed. “It is such a fragile thing, anarchy. The only way for it to survive is to force it to.” She looked Discord in the eye. “You cannot be a king and a Lord of Chaos. You know that. You’ve known that for a long time. Discord, it’s not that your power has been diluted. It’s not that you’re spread thin. It’s that it’s gone. You’ve been dead for a long, long time, Discord. You just haven’t accepted it yet.”

            Discord looked at her, and then out at the future. The future he knew would come to pass if he did not intervene. Then he chuckled softly.

            “You’re right,” he said. “All that time I was worried about fighting Celestia.” He shrugged. “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about it now. I’ve already lost. Probably for the better. If I’m not the Spirit of Chaos, then what am I even for? But there is a bright side!”

            “Oh?”

            Discord smiled. “Only Discord got to defeat Discord.”



            In the real world, Discord lay in his bed, asleep and alone. The same smile as in the dream crossed his face in real life as it did in the dream, a knowing smile about the fate that had already been decided. Asleep, he did not notice the flash of violet light that appeared in the darkness of his doorway.

            A white unicorn stepped through, and then stepped aside, allowing a far larger white pony to enter the room. He stood by as Celestia approached Discord and looked down at him for a moment. He looked so peaceful, and it was maddening that this was the way it had to be- -and even more maddening that despite possessing all the power of the sun, this victory had gone to the inferior moon-sister.

            The hesitation was only momentary. Celestia lowered her horn and pushed it into Discord’s chest, piercing his heart. Discord did not resist; there was no need to. He did not even stop smiling, although Celestia had the strangest feeling that he knew that he had been killed, and that he was laughing at her for having been forced to give him a peaceful death in his sleep.

            His body charged with solar energy, and Discord began to disintegrate. His body pulled apart into gleaming flecks that rose away from him like streamers, and then became dust. Very little Chaos escaped him, as Luna had been correct. There was almost none left. He was little more than a shell.

            In only a few seconds, he had collapsed into nothingness. Discord had been defeated.   bow�~��(
> Chapter 19: Field Collapse
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The few Watchers that still had the need and the ability to eat had just sat down to do so. Twilight had spared some of whatever it was she normally ate, which to Rarity closely resembled- - in mouthfeel, taste, and appearance- -some horrible sludge. Seeing it immediately made her lose her appetite, and she had a sneaking suspicion that it might be made of dead ponies.

            Darknight, who was across from her, was eating food that was most definitely made of dead ponies. Or rather trying to. He had only managed to take a tiny amount of soylent with him from the collapse of the Centre, and Rarity felt a pang of pity in her heart when she saw him trying to divide the one small bar of green-white material.

            “Are you sure you don’t want to try some of this?” asked Rarity, pushing over the plate of fluid. She could have sworn that she saw it react as she did, as though it felt slighted by her refusal to eat it.

            “I already have a hole in me,” said Darknight. “I don’t need to experience gastrointestinal collapse as well.”

            “Ah. Yes. That’s the reason why I’m not eating it. I do believe I saw it wink at me at some point.”

            “Do you want to know what it is?” said Pinkie Pie, leaning in uncomfortably close to Rarity. “Because I know what it is, and you’re not going to like it!”

            “Wh…what is it?”

            “It’s delicious!” Pinkie grabbed Rarity’s slop and with one quick motion shaped it into a perfectly decorated cupcake. It was, of course, still gray and chunky, but it at least looked like something meant to be food.

            Pinkie Pie reached for it, but suddenly froze. Her entire face drained of color. At the same time, Rarity winced with a small cry. Like most ponies in Ponyville, she had a rather substantial implant that had been installed at birth somewhere at the top of her spine. It was meant to allow her to manage the intense Chaos radiation that Ponyville was saturated with. Since it had been inside her so long, she rarely noticed it- -but now it suddenly burned, and then felt like nothing at all.

            Then Pinkie Pie suddenly burst out in laughter. Rarity felt her heart seem to skip and her blood run cold. Something in the sound of that laugh was wrong in a way that she could instantly and instinctively understand, but could not consciously comprehend. It was a true laugh, though. One far happier than any laugh she had ever heard- -and somehow far more terrible.

            Pinkie Pie continued to laugh, her eyes looking around the room like mad, and then ran toward the door and out of the room. Rarity immediately stood up.

            “Rarity?” said Darknight.

            “Darknight, something’s wrong,” she said.

            “Because Pinkie Pie laughed? That is not an unusual aspect of her behavior.”

            “No,” said Rarity, turning to Darknight and seeing that he understood from the look on her face. “I can feel it. Something is WRONG.”

            Rarity ran through the door after Pinkie Pie, and Darknight set down his pitiful portion of soylent and followed, although more slowly because of the wound in his side. The two of them passed through the large central room of before, where Rainbow Dash was walking across the floor with some difficulty.

            “Hey,” she said, looking at them with visible concern on her face. “What’s wrong?”

            “It’s Pinkie Pie,” said Rarity. That was all she needed to say. She saw Rainbow Dash’s eyes grow wide and a look of concern- -or even fear- -cross her face. She felt it too: that something was horribly awry.

            Pinkie was amazingly fast. She got ahead quickly, and Rarity should have lost her- -but she did not. Somehow she knew exactly where she was going, even if she did not know how. This resulted in her leading the group, even though Rainbow Dash- -even in her injured state- -was faster when flying.

            Rarity felt her herself breathing hard as she moved on, and not because of exertion. As she progressed into the darkness of the castle and illuminated her path with the bright blue light of her horn, she felt more and more afraid as she realized that she was going deeper and deeper- -headed toward Twilight’s experimentation floor.

            Then she reached it. It was the last place in all of Equestria she wanted to be, and was only thankful that she did not have to be there alone. That idea made her feel faint, the thought of being surrounded by darkness and strange horrible things. The only thing that made it tolerable was that Darknight and Rainbow Dash, as panicked as they were, were right beside her.

            Even they were not alone, though. Twilight emerged from the far side, coming from her laboratory.

            “What’s going on?” she asked. “You shouldn’t be down here.”

            “It’s Pinkie Pie,” said Rarity hurriedly. “She came down here!”

            Twilight shrugged. “Pinkie can go where she wants. I can’t really stop her. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

            “No! You don’t understand! Something was wrong! Something IS wrong!”

            Before Rarity could even attempt to explain, they heard the sound of laughter. Even Twilight seemed to show some sign of finding that unusual and disturbing, and she joined the others as they quickly moved toward it.

            At first, Rarity thought she had lost Pinkie Pie again as the laughter faded. By this time, she had entered the hall of cells that she had seen on her “tour” of the facility before. Then she heard a low giggle that rose to shrill, manic laughter, and she looked around, confused. That was when she finally found Pinkie Pie.

            She was in one of the cells. In fact, the same one that the unicorn Moondancer had been in before- -and there was a yellow circle magically projected on the glass.

            “Oh no,” whispered Rarity, immediately understanding what was happening.

            The others arrived, with Rainbow Dash landing and immediately approaching the glass. “Pinkie!” she cried. “What the BUCK do you think you’re doing?”

            Pinkie Pie laughed again and her enormous eyes turned toward the glass. She smiled a toothy grin. “I think it’s pretty obvious, Dashie! It’s all part of the comedy! Who doesn’t love a good ROAST?”

            Twilight arrived and looked in at Pinkie almost in disbelief. Her eyes then went to the yellow circle. “Oh god,” she said. “Dash, she’s activated the purge cycle!”

            “What?!”

            Twilight pointed at the circle as one quarter of it converted to auburn. “The purge cycle! THE DAMN PURGE CYCLE!”

            Rainbow Dash’s eyes went wide, and she turned back to Pinkie. “What are you doing?!” she screamed. “Pinkie, get out of there!”

            Pinkie’s laughter slowed, and with a long sight it stopped. “It finally stopped,” she said, softly.

            “Pinkie! If you don’t get out of there, I’ll- -”

            “The screaming. It’s finally gone. I’m finally free. I don’t have to be like this anymore…I can go at last…”

            “Pinkie,” said Rarity. “You’re not making any sense!”

            “No,” said Pinkie. “For once everything finally does.”

            “It won’t activate,” said Darknight. “You know it can’t, Pinkie Pie. The will of the Madgod, the Chaos field- -”

            “It’s collapsed!” screamed Pinkie Pie with manic glee before bursting into shrill laughter. “It COLLAPSED! Your ‘Madgod’ is dead, and I’m free! I’m finally free! I don’t have to be in pain anymore!”

            The circle shifted again. Now it was half auburn. Rarity began to panic, and as she watched Pinkie gave one last smile before her hair straightened and a confused expression crossed her face. Pinkie closed her eyes, and Pinkamena opened them. She looked around, not understanding what was going on- -until she saw the circle. Then her eyes grew wide.

            She ran to the front glass and put her hooves against it. “Rainbow Dash,” she said, her voice shaking. “Rainbow Dash, help me! Please! I- -I don’t want to die! Don’t let her kill me! Please, help me!”

            “Don’t worry, Pinkamena!” cried Rainbow Dash. With tears in her eyes, she braced herself and began ramming herself into the glass. It bent, but did not break.

            “It’s no use,” said Twilight, hurriedly. “The containment spell is already activated! The glass is unbreakable now!”

            “Then shut down the damn spell!” screamed Rainbow Dash.

            Twilight looked to the glass, and Rarity knew that it was already too late. Still, Twilght took a deep breath. “I can try.”

            Lighting her horn, Twilight adjusted the fundamental spell that caused the cell to operate. It looked to Rarity like a tangle of translucent violet roots pulled out of the glass itself. All of them were turning and twisting, and Twilight immediately went about disconnecting some and trying to reconfigure their alignment.

            That was when the circle changed to three-quarters auburn.

            “TWILIGHT!” screamed Rainbow Dash.

            “I’m going as fast as I can!” retorted Twilight angrily.

            Rarity looked through the glass, and saw Pinkamena looking back at her. She saw the panic in her eyes, and the tears- -and then the terrifying acceptance.

            Pinkamena put her hoof against the glass. “Rainbow Dash,” she said.

            “Don’t worry,” said Rainbow Dash, putting both hooves against the glass. “We’re going to get you out. It’s going to be okay! You’re going to be safe!”

            “No,” said Pinkamena. “No I’m not. I’m sorry, Dash.”

            The circle suddenly flashed to full auburn. Pinkamena only screamed for a moment as the inside of the room erupted in flame. It was not possible for her to make a sound for longer, as the intense heat seared away her lungs in a flash. That sound, though, was burned into Rarity’s memory forever.

            There was no time to look away. It all happened too fast, and yet seemed to take an eternity. Rarity was frozen, and she could not look away. She saw Pinkamena burn, her skin ripped away by the heat of the blast and the rest of her soft tissue turned to dust. Then she fell, and as the flame slowly extinguished, the skeleton that had been her friend struck the glowing stone below and shattered into charred embers.

            The fire dimmed and vanished, and the ponies on the safe side of the glass just stood there. Then their silence was broken by a long, horrible scream. Rainbow Dash dropped to her knees, weeping and shrieking all at once. Rarity turned away from the window and put her face against Darknight’s shoulder. He put his hoof around her, as even he seemed to understand the loss that they had just incurred.

            Twilight looked into the window for a moment, and then put the representation of the spell she was holding back into place. “I couldn’t stop it in time,” she said weakly.

            “No SHIT!” screamed Rainbow Dash. She stood up and punched Twilight in the face.

            “Rainbow Dash!” cried Rarity, taking a step forward. Darknight stopped her, though.

            Twilight looked up as though she had ignored the blow completely. Her expression was still somber, though. “That’s not going to bring her back.”

            “But it’s your FAULT! You’re supposed to be the greatest wizard in all of Equestria, aren’t you? Why didn’t you DO SOMETHING?!”

            “Because I couldn’t. It’s how the spell works. Once the cycle is engaged, it’s not possible to stop it. I…” She paused. “I think she knew that. I think they both did.”

            “But…but…” Rainbow Dash turned to the glass. “She- -she can’t die! She’s supposed to be immortal!”

            “She is correct,” said Darknight, calmly. “The Chaos field that surrounds her should have protected her. This shouldn’t be possible.”

            “There’s nothing about the Priestesses that makes them intrinsically invulnerable,” said Twilight. Her tone took a darker note. “If the Chaos field fails, they’re just ordinary ponies. Like the rest of us.”

            “But the Chaos field can’t fail. Not as long as the Madgod lives.”

            Twilight looked up at them. “Well, then,” she said. “If that is true, I believe we now have empirical truth that Discord has been murdered, don’t we?”
> Chapter 20: Divine Rule
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sky darkened over Discordalot, and for just a moment the sound of automatic gunfire in the streets closed. On that day the sky had been a pleasant mixture of orange and pink diagonal lines with four green suns and two purple ones. Overhead, though, the glowing spheres suddenly dimmed and dissipated. The differentiation between orange and pink in the sky decreased to nothing but gray.

            All at once, the color scheme changed. What had been dark gray ignited with solid, undifferentiated blue. Ponies below winced, as they had never seen the sky that color before. Some of them cowered in fear, not understanding what was happening to their beloved Equestria.

            Then the light came. A brilliant, blinding glow that rose from the east. Ponies cried out in terror as a glowing sphere rose into the blue sky, one more bright and hot than any than any of those created by Discord.

            In the center of Discordalot, some ponies ventured outside. Some ponies were already out there. In many cases, it was the only place they had to go. The noncan revolution had forced them out of what homes they had, leaving them on the confusing and incomprehensible streets of the city that now seemed alien to them. They could not know it, but this had saved many of their lives. When the Chaos field had collapsed, the gravity of Discordalot had returned to its default. Thousands had died as they suddenly tipped off buildings and plummeted to their deaths, and those among them who were Pegasi or griffons were forced to watch.

            Those that were watching looked to the sky and shielded their faces with their hooves. As they did, they saw something emerge from the blinding light. All of them watched transfixed as a group of ponies descended from the sky. Chief among them was a pony unlike any they had ever seen, a giant white mare who bore both wings and a horn whose body was surrounded by a flowing rainbow mane of pure energy.

            Others came as well. The two principal ones among them descended at the sides of the white mare: on her right, a pale blue Pegasus with a long Rainbow mane and a golden cybernetic front leg. To the left of the great mare came a thin blue pony. She bore wings and a horn like the other, but she was smaller and far less impressive. Her mane did not drift and flow, but instead consisted of ordinary blue hair. Few ponies below noticed her at all.

            Celestia’s gold-clad feet touched the strange soil of a city she had once hoped to call her home, and she looked out at the alien landscape, dismayed by the number of Discord statues that littered the city.

            “This place could once have been so beautiful,” she mused.

            “It can be again, my Princess,” said Hurricane. Celestia smiled, knowing that she was indeed correct.

            By this time, a group of ponies had gathered around them. They stared, gawked, and talked softly to themselves, not recognizing their one true leader. They seemed afraid, but not afraid enough to flee.

            Then one stepped forward. She was a little pale brown Pegasus who wore thick glasses and a metallic silver tiara. She was accompanied by a scruffy looking brown dog. She approached slowly and hesitantly, but finally stood before her Princess. Celestia smiled, and so did the filly in response.

            “You are really pretty,” she said.

            “Thank you,” said Celestia. “You might have grown up to be pretty yourself, had you not been born into this cursed world.”

            Celestia’s horn ignited, and she saw an expression of confusion cross the filly’s face. It only lasted a moment, though, before she and her dog were both vaporized.

            “Zipporwhill!” cried a pony who Celestia assumed was the filly’s father. He did not have much time to experience any sense of loss, though. Like the ponies surrounding Celestia, he was reduced to ash as well. Celestia then raised her horn and drew power from the sun, producing a spell of unimaginable power that radiated from her like the blast from a bomb. Instead of destroying the buildings of the city, though, it tore through them harmlessly, seeking out  those infected by Discord’s Chaos. Those that the spell touched burst into flame, igniting the buildings where they had taken refuge. Within a matter of seconds every infected pony had been reduced to nothingness.

            “Sister?” said Luna.

            “Now is not the time to doubt me, Luna,” said Celestia, turning to her sibling. “You know that this is necessary. It brings me so much pain to be forced to do this, but it is for their own good. They cannot be cured.”

            “But the children. What have they done to deserve this fate?”

            “They were born diseased,” said Celestia calmly. She was more than willing to explain this to her sister. She certainly had time. “And their death is painless. So much cannot be said for those who willingly follow their former king, though.”

            “Princess,” said Hurricane, spreading her legs into a defensive posture. She looked into the flames that now surrounded them, and Celestia followed her gaze. The city around her should have been silent, save for the cracking of the purifying fire. Instead, though, she heard the sound of hoofsteps. Many hoofsteps.

            Shapes appeared in the fire. They started as silhouettes, but quickly resolved into ponies. Celestia’s eyes narrowed with mild amusement and a strange concern. She had difficulty understanding why so many of those approaching looked so similar to one another.

            The leaders of the force were gray and mare-like, their bodies occasionally mutilated and perverted by modern technology that penetrated and replaced part of their bodies. Other than the modifications, though, they were all the same. They were in turn accompanied by enormous stallion-like soldiers, each dressed in armor and each identical in their own red color.  There were others, too: armored Pegasi, all pink, and silver unicorns. No member of any group was an individual, though. Each one had at least a twin, and often several. Not one among them possessed a cutie mark.

            “Princess,” said Commander Hurricane, signaling to the other members of her Pegasus force that accompanied her. “Allow me to dispatch them.”

            “No,” said Celestia, stopping her second-in-command. “Something is…different. They don’t feel like the others. They feel like the guards we were given.”

            One of the gray mares- -apparently the leadres of the group, and easily the strongest among them- -stepped forward. She moved without hesitation, doubt, or fear, and stopped before Celestia, looking up at the alicorn goddess with a pair of unblinking cybernetic eyes.

            “You dare to approach me, even after I killed so many of your people?” mused Celestia.

            “You slew none of mine,” said the girl. “And we find this quite interesting.”

            “Interesting, you say?” Celestia was mildly amused by this. “What is your name, child?”

            “The name I was given is Stoniecliff. I have no need for any other.”

            “I see. I am Princess Celestia, Goddess of the Sun and the One True Ruler of Equestria.”

            “No,” said Stoniecliff.

            “You dare to correct the solar princess?” spat Hurricane, stepping forward angrily. “I should remove your eyes for this insult!”

            “You would hardly be the first to do that to me. If you even could. But please not.” She gestured over her shoulder at a pair of gray mares whose bodies were covered in translucent orange armor. “Those two have a schism laser array targeting your head. No matter how fast you can move, you cannot move faster than a beam of light. And we will take quite a bit more than your eyes.”

            “Leave her,” said Celestia, gesturing for Hurricane to back down. “I’ve been trapped so long, and even before then few dared to question me. I find this…stimulating. What do you mean, Stoniecliff? You say I do not rule this world, and yet clearly I do. Discord is dead by my horn, and I have already purged this city. I intend to build my new capital here.”

            “You committed genocide. A pointless act of destruction. You control nothing. I do not know if Discord is dead or not. You could be lying. But he was only a directing force. None of the administration was handled by him.” She paused. “I suppose he considered it too dull.”

            Celestia leaned forward. “Then who does control it?”

            “We do,” said Stoniecliff, calmly.

            Celestia frowned. “I’m assuming that is not the royal ‘we’.”

            “No. I refer to our collective. The Noncanon Union.”

            “And if I should try to break this union?”

            “Then you will need to rebuild all business and administration from the ground up. But if you had wanted to do that, we would already be dead. Your spell did not touch us.”

            “No. It did not. It only targeted the infected. You still contain some levels of Chaos…but you are different. Cleaner. Not perfect, but…adequate.”

            “For what, might I ask?”

            Celestia smiled. “I had been afraid, you know.”

            “Princess?” said Hurricane, taken aback by this.

            “Yes,” said Celestia. “I knew what needed to be done, but I was still afraid. That all that would be left with was my loyal servants, those from before Discord’s rule. I would be a Princess without subjects. I did not know that there were ponies like you in the world.”

            Stoniecliff looked up at Celestia. “You are proposing that we become your subjects. That we serve you.”

            “I don’t need servants. I am a god. I require worship. Ponies to build my cities, to realize my visions, to live in my world. Oh, and to worship my sister. To a lesser extent, of course, and only if you choose too. She is a lesser deity, but one nonetheless.”

            “Then you wish to rule as Discord did.”

            Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “No. I do not want to plunge this world into chaos and strife for my own gain and amusement. I want what I had before.”

            “Which is?”

            “To dedicate myself to preserving Harmony and peace. Creating a world were ponies live unified and work together toward happiness and fulfilment.”

            “Then our goals are not mutually exclusive,” said Stoniecliff. “In fact, in some ways they are the same. We do not desire war. Only freedom to live in a world of our own creation.” She paused for a moment. “I am only a machine. I was grown in a tank and born awake and adult. But the world you describe…if only I could believe it might exist for us.”

            “It can,” said Celestia. “If you join me. If you are willing to become my subjects.”

            Soniecliff paused, and a holographic projection appeared over one of her eyes. She looked at it for a moment, transmitting outward to others of her own kind. Then it closed, and she looked back up at Celestia. “We are in agreement,” she said. “We are willing to accept your offer with a single condition.”

            Celestia raised an eyebrow. “A condition? What sort of a condition?”

            “You need to answer a question.”

            “A question?” Celestia chuckled. “You mean like a riddle?”

            “In a sense. Although we think of it like a test. To determine if our goals truly do align.”

            “I see. Then ask, if that is what you wish.”

            Stoniecliff turned to the ponies behind her. “What do you see here? Or, phrased another way: what are we?”

            Celestia frowned, confused. She did not understand what kind of question that was supposed to be. “You are ponies,” she said, giving the obvious answer.

            There was a strange murmur of awe throughout the crowd. Celestia did not understand why they had that reaction. She had thought that it was supposed to be some kind of riddle, but they had responded to it as though she had said something incredibly profound.

            Stoniecliff smiled, and Clelestia saw a small tear drip from her cybernetic eyes. Then, without a word, she dropped to her knees. The others did the same, each willingly bowing to Celestia.

            “You understand,” said Stoniecliff. “You are worthy to rule us. And we are honored to be your subjects.”   style='foel~>0
> Chapter 21: Payment in Kind
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The world had ended. Or, perhaps, in a different sense, it had begun. Or- -far more likely- -the worst had yet to come. Few ponies among them knew what was coming for their world, save for one- -and she was the one who cared the least what destruction her path had wrought.

            Xyuka did not stop to consider the consequences of her actions. She had long ago learned that there were none. It was a horrible piece of knowledge that she wished she could forget.

            Still, even this did not concern her especially much as she entered the castle. It was one of many. Some had fallen into ruin simply because of disrepair, but others- -like this one- -had stayed cold and silent for decades or centuries as they sat unoccupied and largely forgotten. This was one of many Castles of Discord. Discord himself had largely resided in his own private reality, but from time to time he had built earthly palaces. Exactly why was unclear. He seemed to spend a great deal of effort and expense on them, but then leave them abandoned and empty after finishing.

            This one was one of many that had been built in seemingly random sections of the word. In its case, a rocky and frozen crag far to the north in Hyperboria. There was nothing habitable within hundreds of miles, as the permafrost could not be farmed or cultured. Yet, somehow, the castle was not empty. Xyuka saw hoofsteps in the thin snow and thick dust that covered parts of the floor, and through the cold her sensors could detect the distinct spectrographic signature of embalming fluid.

            It was through this emptiness and coldness that Xyuka approached the central throne hall, a vast room lit only by the dim gray light of the storms above. This was where the new ruler of Equestria had come to reside.

            Xyuka stepped forward without hesitation or fear. She moved at a constant rate, and she could see the eyes of those who stood in the shadows of the room watching her: the strange eyes hidden behind the glass lenses of their respirators, and the numerous eyes of the drooling and gibbering sewn-together creatures that prowled the edges of the hall. The worst among them, though, were those dressed in black armor who stared through formalin-fixed, stolen eyes. They were the ones that Xyuka watched more closely.

            Then she reached the end and stood at the base of the throne of steel and bone. She did not bow, but instead looked up. A yellow Pegasus pony with long scarlet hair and a pair of thick black glasses looked back down. A smile slowly crossed Fluttershy’s face.

            “What?” she said, somewhat sarcastically. “You’re not going to bow to your Queen?”

            “My payment,” said Xyuka, not bothering to answer the ridiculous question.

            Fluttershy stared at her for a moment through her glasses. “Fine,” she said, shrugging. “You certainly earned it.”

            She stood up and leaned forward. Her mouth opened disgustingly wide, and a retching sound echoed through the halls. This was followed by something similar to choking, and the sound of fluids moving. None of the Consort Guard reacted in any way. They understood what was happening, and had no reason to even turn to see.

            Fluttershy continued for a few moments until finally something came out of her mouth. It was largely a mixture of rotted blood and mucous, but something clinked against the marble floor. Fluttershy took several more deep breaths, and then stood up straight before returning to her seat. One of her rebodies- -a pale mare with her mouth sewn closed, the body of whom Xyuka recognized as having once belonged to a pony named Pear Butter- -approached the object that Fluttershy had vomited. Without even a hint of disgust, she reached into it and pulled out a hoof-sized object: a solid black gemstone.

            “The Black Rainbow,” said Fluttershy, propping her head on one hoof. “Passed down from father to son in an ancient line of centaurs called the Black Stone Weilders. I retrieved it from the skull of Lord Tirac when I disincorporated him after his defeat. It had been at the core of his brain.”

            The rebody walked to Xyuka and gave her the stone. Xyuka extended an armor-plated hoof and took the stone in it. The material never touched her armor, and instead was illuminated blue by a repulsor field. Direct contact with the gemstone was hazardous, and generally lethal. Even looking at it was harmful, but Xyuka’s mask shielded her completely from its effects.

            “There is no other stone like it in the universe,” said Fluttershy.

            “There are,” said Xyuka. “The throne of the Queen of the Changelings consists of the same material.”

            “Yes,” admitted Fluttershy, “but only in a raw state. This is the only piece that has been cut. I don’t know by who. It certainly wasn’t the centaurs. Whoever it was is long gone now, and I’m actually happy. Because whoever was mad enough to create it is better off forgotten by history.” Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “I can’t help but wonder why you wanted it so badly.”

            “It is the final piece to my creation,” said Xyuka. She focused on the stone and began taking readings. Translucent orange hard-constructs began to form around it, warping and reassembling themselves into various shapes as they constructed a machine around the Black Rainbow.

            “But your creation is already finished,” noted Fluttershy. “You released the Princesses.”

            “Yes. I did. And now I have this.”

            Fluttershy sat up and laughed. It was a horrible sound. “For payment! Seriously, for PAYMENT! Xyuka, do you have any idea what you’ve done, what havoc you’re unleashed on Equestria?”

            “That is not my concern,” said Xyuka.

            Fluttershy smiled. “Isn’t it?”

            “No. No it isn’t.”  Xyuka did not take her eye off the crystal as the machine continued construction. “I did a job. I got paid. The rest is up to you. Destroy this world if you want, or build a new one. I have no stake in it, and I’ve learned to keep a professional distance.”

            “From reality itself?”

            “Yes. Of course.”

            Fluttershy frowned. “You don’t even want to know why I did it?”

            “No. Your motives are your own, as are mine.”

            Fluttershy paused. “You know,” she said. “I find your neutrality infuriating. I just ordered you to initiate a genocide, to start a war that could very well kill everypony you’ve ever loved. And you didn’t even hesitate, so long as I promised you that gem.”

            “I needed the gem,” said Xyuka.

            “Not only that,” said Fluttershy, her voice shifting enough to audibly show her displeasure. “But I DIDN’T order you to start a noncan revolution. Or did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

            “I did the job you requested, didn’t I?”

            “You did,” said Fluttershy through gritted teeth.

            “And as I understand it, the noncans have sided with Celestia. That should make your war a bit more interesting.”

            “It will,” sighed Fluttershy, seeming to take some solace in that fact. “But I will have to kill them all, you know that, right?”

            “If you see it as necessary. They are beyond my control now.”

            “My,” said Fluttershy. “You are greedy, aren’t you? You don’t even care about your own children.”

            “No. Why would I?”

            Fluttershy smiled again. “You know,” she said, “seeing as I will be running a war, I could use somepony with such a clear mind. Or, seeing as I am now lacking in one husband, I could use a consort. Or both. There is room for you in my empire, if you like.”

            “I see no point in it,” said Xyuka. “The crystal was the last piece I needed. That, and your last lover is only ‘lacking’ because you orchestrated his assassination.”

            “I would hardly call him a ‘lover,’” mused Fluttershy. “In fact, I rather hated him.”

            “Odd that you would spread your wings every night for a person you hate.”

            “At least my wings CAN be spread,” retorted Fluttershy. “And you have no idea what he did to me…”

            “You are referring to the Cloudsdale Union-breaking.”

            Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “You’ve studied your history, haven’t’ you?”

            “I am your history.”

            “My adoptive father was there,” said Fluttershy. “He was part of the unionization effort for cloudmakers. He wasn’t part of the Pegasi trying to form the breakway government, or the radical isolationist factions. He was trying to negotiate better working conditions. All he cared about was the clouds, and the quality of the weather he made. He only wanted them to be beautiful.

            “Except that the unionization effort got involved with the Consolidated Government, and my father ended up an officer in an organization he didn’t understand. And Discord can’t have internal governments forming with their own laws and order. So he sent a Watcher. Her name was Sunset Shimmer. She came into our house and fired four bullets. One for my mother, one for my father, one for my little brother…” She lifted her hair, revealing a faded circular scar at her temple, “and one for me.”

            “A waste of ammunition,” said Xyuka. “It would take a lot more than that to kill a Tartaran Lord.”

            Fluttershy frowned deeply, and some of the undead seemed perturbed. “You know an awful lot about me,” said Fluttershy, reaching for her glasses. “Far more than you reasonably should.” She removed her glasses, revealing her eyes. They were red. There was no sclera and no pupil; just solid crimson. Something moved behind the surface of those eyes, a strange mechanism that was perceptible but invisible. Xyuka felt Fluttershy staring into her. She knew those eyes, and knew that even among Tartarans they were rare. Only one other being in existence shared them.

            “We haven’t met before,” said Fluttershy. “Not in person. You can’t have known. I’m VERY careful.”

            “Because you’re ashamed?”

            Fluttershy grinned. She did not bother to hide the fact that all of her teeth were far longer and pointed than any normal pony’s should have been. “Oh no,” she said. She threw her head back and rubbed her hoof through her long red hair, and changed her voice as she did. “It’s just that…ohh…well, I don’t mean to be deceptive, but…ponies tend to like me so much better when I’m, well, quiet. Demure. Cute.” Her voice returned to normal. “Not demon spawn.”

            “My reaction toward you is neutral either way. What you are- -or your insipid backstory- -is not my concern.”

            Fluttershy’s red eyes narrowed. “It isn’t ‘insipid’. You have no idea how difficult it was holding that stone down while I let him do things to me.” She suddenly smiled. “But I got my way in the end, didn’t I?”

            “You aren’t supposed to be this way. You are supposed to be a kind, caring, gentle pony.”

            “HA!” screamed Fluttershy, sending a shower of spit and blood from her mouth. “Yes! Maybe once! Maybe if Discord hadn’t ordered my adoptive father killed, and my mother along with him! Or my little brother, who was just a foal! Maybe if I wasn’t forced to return to my biological mother.” She laughed. “She was the one who showed me the TRUTH. That ponies are so much more beautiful when they are in pain! That’s what I want, Xyuka. Every second of every day. I HATE so much, I want to see the world suffer. I live for it. Every pony, every animal, they deserve pain by definition.”

            “By definition?”

            “They have the audacity to EXIST. Physical bodies, physical lives, waiting for eternal torment when my mother takes their souls…but what I can do to their bodies is SO MUCH SWEETER! The look on their face when bones are cut, or their skin sliced, or their spirits broken…” She shivered and her legs instinctively closed. “That is what I will bring to this word. I will continue Discord’s work in way he was too idiotic to comprehend. I will turn Equestria into a paradise. Ponies will exist to serve their one true purpose. And I will rule them. Fluttershy, the Element of Cruelty!”

            The translucent machinery suddenly completed around the Black Rainbow, and it snapped shut into a long cylindrical system. Xyuka had barely been listening to whatever pointless thing Fluttershy had been babbling about, but now she saw from the readings that the connection with the stone had been established. Without hesitation or pause, she pointed it at Fluttershy and fired.

            A black beam shot forward and struck Fluttershy in the gut. Her red eyes went wide and she bent forward, grasping the hole. Every rebody and masked demon suddenly began to move forward, to converge on Xyuka to tear her apart. Fluttershy stopped them, though, by raising a hoof. Then she laughed.

            “Do you really think that something like that…would…even…” She trailed off, and her eyes suddenly widened with fear and pain. She looked down at the hole. It was the last thing she ever did. Her body immediately ignited into black energy as she was violently reduced to a splatter of black fluid and ash.

            The entire room save for Xyuka stared in awe and shock. A male rebody- -his form having been the spouse of his female companion- -turned slowly to Xyuka. “You…you killed her,” he whispered.

            “I needed to test the integration of the system,” said Xyuka as her optics finished observing the waveforms of Fluttershy’s death. “This test has confirmed that the crystal has been cut adequately to serve my needs.”

            “But…why?”

            “Because she was relatively close.”

            Two portals opened behind Xyuka, and from each stepped a Stonie unit, the only two who had not joined the revolution of their kind. Those among the group of Consort Guards who had any urge to fight hesitated, having some understanding that despite having the advantage of numbers they were cataclysmically outgunned. The rebodies had already known that form the start, but they did not care anymore. They no longer had any reason to exist in this realm, and watched where the Holy Daughter had sat just moments ago with a level of despair and sadness that no mortal could hope to comprehend while they dwelt in the world of the living.

            Xyuka collapsed the device containing the Black Rainbow into a cube and turned her back to them. She joined the pair of mindless, faceless drones and left the castle. The final piece had been acquired and confirmed to be operational.  Now there was only one step remaining.
> Chapter 22: Consequence
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bed stopped creaking, and Twilight collapsed onto the wet sheets, gasping for breath. The stallion on top of her released her horn from his mouth. He stayed where he was for a moment longer, and then rolled off Twilight’s back. They both stayed where they were for a moment, and then just as Twilight was shifting to embrace him he got out of bed.

            “Wait,” said Twilight, sitting up suddenly. “Can’t you stay? Just a little longer?”

            Braeburn raised an eyebrow. “For a second round? I think that might be a little too much for you.”

            “Well, no, but…can you just stay?” Twilight hesitated. “You can sleep here. You don’t have to do anything else. Just…stay here. With me.”

            Braeburn smiled and reached for his vest. “Sorry, Twi. I have other mares scheduled. I can’t leave one hanging, it just ain’t good for business.”

            “I can pay you triple,” said Twilight, perhaps too desperately.

            Braeburn smiled, but he shook his head. “Twi, you know I can’t do that. You’re a good customer, but I have a reputation to uphold. Punctuality and all that. ‘Sides, this is a new customer. One of them fancy Noncans. A Silver unit.”

            “A noncan?” Twilight shot up out of bed angrily. “You wouldn’t! Even you wouldn’t stoop that low!”

            Braeburn frowned. “Darlin’, types are changing,” he said, trying to sound as polite as he could. “Those noncans, they just won some kind of big battle or something out in Discordalot. They’re getting all kinds of new ideas.”

            “She doesn’t even have genitals! What are you going to do, hump her back?”

            “I can do things that you don’t use genitals for. You know that. And for your information, the females DO have some parts down there. Just…different ones.”

            He reached for his hat, and Twilight sat down on her bed. “Braeburn,” she said. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

            “That seems to be something you do a lot.”

            “You don’t have to leave. I have a lot of funding right now, and I’m on the verge of a breakthrough. It’s going to be enormous for science, and for me. You can stay. I can hire you on retainer.”

            Braeburn sighed, and then walked back to Twilight. He leaned down and kissed her. Twilight tried to kiss back passionately, but Braeburn did not let her. He pulled away. “I can’t do that,” he said. “Ah just can’t. You’re a real good customer, Twalight, but what we do, it’s a professional relationship. You’re not the kind of mare who can make me take off the saddle. And honestly, this castle gives me the worst case of the willies. You kind of do, too. ”
            “Braeburn- -” Twilight reached out with her ceremonially scarred and branded left hoof, and Braeburn recoiled with visible disgust. To Twilight, that reaction felt as though she had been stabbed in the chest. She was hideous to him.

            “Fine,” she said. She levitated a sack of coins and threw it to him. “Here’s your payment.”

            “Twi- -”

            Twilight raised her normal hoof. “If our relationship is just professional, you don’t have anything else to say to me. You clearly can’t appreciate me. I’ll find a stallion who will, no matter what you say.”

            “Twalight,” sighed Braeburn. “I didn’t say that.”

            “You didn’t have to.”

            He groaned. “Can you just teleport me back to Appleoosa? I have an appointment to keep.”

            Twilight glared at him. “Fine,” she said, summoning the spell and removing him from her presence.

            With Braeburn gone, Twilight wiped the tears from her eyes and lay back down on the bed. She had already started counting down. She had complied with her part of her agreement. She had payed Braeburn for his services, and teleported him back to Appleoosa- -or, rather, in this case, twenty five thousand feet directly over it. She regretted that decision, but not enough to undo it.

            She had lain there for several moments when a knock came at her door. Twilight immediately jumped in surprise, thinking that Braeburn had somehow come back- -a prospect that was as confusing as it was hopeful. Then she remembered that for the first time ever she had extended company, and felt oddly disappointed. Another knock occurred at the door.

            “Hold your selves,” she said, getting out of bed and trying to disguise the fact that she was sweaty and slightly disheveled. “I’m coming.”

            She almost laughed at the idea of that statement being a pun, which it would have been had the knock come a few minutes earlier. Unfortunately, she was not feeling in the mood for laughter at all. When she opened the door, she saw that the knocker had been Rainbow Dash.

            It was quite apparent that Rainbow Dash was feeling far worse than Twilight was. Her eyes were puffy and red, and it was apparent that she had been crying. Twilight took some joy in this, as it indicated which of them was the true sociopath.

            “Twilight?” said Rainbow Dash, her voice  hoarse. “Can I talk to you?”

            Twilight hesitated. “Sure,” she said after several moments. She then stepped back and allowed Rainbow Dash to enter. She was the first mare who had ever come in this room since Twilight had taken control of the castle, although Twilight had considered purchasing a few from time to time.

            A chair lit with pink-violet light and slid across the floor. “You can sit there. Or anywhere, I guess.” Twilight then reached into a small cabinet and pulled out a glass. She poured a thin reddish fluid into it.

            “What is that?” asked Rainbow Dash.

            “Alcholest,” said Twilight. “It’s usually used as an alchemical solvent. It’s very expensive. But I think you need it more than I do at the moment.” She passed the glass to Rainbow Dash, but momentarily paused and looked at the ceiling. “Splat,” she said.

            “What?”

            “Never mind.”

            Rainbow Dash took the glass and downed the contents.

            “Careful!” said Twilight. “That stuff can kill you. VERY easily. Especially if you raided the opium supply.”

            “I just needed a little,” said Rainbow Dash. She paused. “It didn’t help.”

            Twilight sighed. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

            “It’s like…it’s like I keep turning around, and expecting her to be there. Like it was some kind of jokek. Like, she’s just going to laugh in my face and say ‘got you, Dashie. You should have seen the look on your face!’”

            “I assure you, she isn’t,” said Twilight. “Her bones are down in my laboratory.” The marrow of a Chaos Priestess was extremely rare and valuable- -they were difficult to kill- -so Twilight had taken great pains to extract as much essence as possible. “She’s not coming back.”

            “Do you think I don’t know that!” shouted rainbow Dash, suddenly. She looked up at Twilght and glared, but then her expression softened back to sadness.

            “Here,” said Twilight, pouring her more alcohol.

            “Thanks,” said Rainbow Dash, drinking the fluid at a much more reasonable pace than before.

            “I did what I could,” said Twilight. “Those rooms are designed to seal when they’re activated. She must have seen me use it on Moonancer and copied it. Once they’re closed, they can’t be opened. That feature has saved my life more than once. Even a mage like me can’t deactivate the failsafe layers.”

            “I know,” said Rainbow Dash. “I know. That’s not what I came here to talk to you about.”

            “Then what?”

            Rainbow Dash looked up. “You’re a necromancer, right?”

            Twilight looked at Rainbow Dash, and then let out a long and heavy sigh. “I’m technically an alchemist,” she said, “but yes. I am an expert necromancer also. But that’s not going to help you. I know what you’re asking, and I can’t do it.”

            “Why not?” Rainbow Dash seemed to be pleading. “Please, Twilight, you have to! You just have to!”

            “Rainbow Dash,” said Twilight, putting her left hoof on Rainbow Dash’s shoulder. Interestingly, she did not recoil. She was apparently too stupid to comprehend what the marks actually were, even on an instinctual level. Strangely, Twilight was actually touched by this acceptance. “Listen to me very carefully. Necromancy is not by any means easy. I can do it, but certain parameters have to be met.”

            “Name them. I will meet them. I will do anything.”

            Twilight shook her head. “Not on your part. On hers. A body can be resurrected, if it’s intact, but it’s not the same pony. Just a shell. A bit like what Starlight is, except…well…dead. But that’s not what you want. You want Pinkamena back.”

            “Please Twilight. Please bring her back…”

            “I told you. I can’t. For that to work, I need an intact brain. I can graft in an artificial soul, but it has to have a mind. Memories. Those are in the brain. That is one of the basic tenants of necromancy. If the brain is destroyed, so is the pony. Even Celestia herself would die permanently if her brain were ablated.”

            “But all that was left was ash.”

            Twilight nodded. “I know.”

            She stood up and returned to her bed, sitting on the edge. Rainbow Dash took another large gulp of drink, and it was apparent that she was crying. Then, without warning, she let out a horrible scream of rage and threw the glass down, shattering it.

            “BUCK-DAMN IT!” she wailed. “Why, Twilight, WHY? Why did she have to do it?!”

            “It’s not a question I can answer,” said Twilight. She picked up the pieces of broken glass in her magic and pulled them together, using a spell to repair it. “Only she could. And she is dead. But I can guess that it was the pain.”

            “Pain? Bucking pain- -no! It was because she couldn’t deal with it! Pinkamena had the SAME pain, but she just pushed through it! And Pinkie didn’t even have the balls to take the fire herself. She made Pinkamena do it. Right there. Right in front of me. Like it was a JOKE to her. That bitch…that bucking bitch…”

            Rainbow Dash roared again and stood up. “I’m so angry! But…not at anypony. I hate this! I hate it so much! I want to hurt somepony, to make them pay, but…I can’t!”

            “You can’t blame anypony for it. Anypony except her.”

            Rainbow Dash nodded “If Pinkamena had been murdered, I would be able to get revenge. The things I would do…things I’ve only ever thought about doing to another pony. ME.” She tried to contain a sob. “But I can’t! I can’t find anypony to hurt, I can’t DO anything! I’m useless! I was useless there, and I’m useless now! All the ponies I’ve killed, all the stuff I’ve done- -and I’m USELESS!”

            “No,” said Twilight. “I would disagree. At least you were there. At least you tried.”

            “And did trying get her out? ‘Trying’ doesn’t matter, Twilight. Only winning. And I lost.”

            “Yes. You did. But look at it this way. Do you see me, here and now?”

            Rainbow Dash looked at Twilight. She was confused. “Yeah?”

            “You’ve seen how I live. And you can guess how I’m going to die. Alone. Cold, and alone.”

            “Twilight…”

            “Let me finish. I’m going to die alone. No pony loves me, and none ever will. I’ll be an old mare and collapse in my library. No pony will ever find me, and if they do, there will be nothing but rotted bones. I’m terrified of that, Rainbow Dash. You don’t know what it feels like to know that you’re going to die alone and unloved, how horrible that fate is.” Twilight stood up and looked Rainbow Dash in the eyes. “I do. And I know that Pinkamena did not have to suffer that fate.”

            Rainbowd Dash looked at her, and suddenly burst into tears. Before Twilight even knew what had happened, Rainbow Dash was hugging her.

            “This- -is so- -STUPID!” wept Rainbow Dash. “I’m crying like- -a colt- -you must think- -”

            Twilight hugged her back. “I don’t think any less of you,” she said. Rainbow Dash obviously did not understand the true meaning of that statement, because she squeezed even tighter. She was surprisingly strong.

            This continued for several minutes, and eventually Rainbow Dash disengaged. “You smell nice,” was all she could say. “Like apples.”

            “I know,” said Twilight. She looked up at Rainbow Dash. “I can’t bring her back,” she said, “but there might be something I can do.”

            Rainbow Dash sniffled. “What?”

            “Pinkie was only able to do what she did because Discord has been killed. We’re no longer Watchers, Dash. We’re just ponies now. But I’m going to keep fighting.”

            “You mean the alicorns?”

            Twilight shook her head. “They’re just pawns. Sunset and I, we talked about it. We want to go after the one who’s pulling the strings. The one who’s really responsible for Discord’s death. And by extension Pinkamena’s.”

            “Who?”

            “Xyuka.”

            Rainbow Dash’s eyes narrowed. “You think this is her fault?”

            “I know it is. I wouldn’t lie to you, Dash.”

            “Then tell me what I need to do to make sure she pays.”




 
> Chapter 23: Young God
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The castle had grown even darker when the sky had changed, and Rarity now shivered against the cold. The light in the sky outside was hot and strange, but out here, clouds had begun to form. There was no Chaos to keep them under control. They swirled over the EverFree in vast storms, bringing a strange chill air along with their dreary rain and distant lightning. To Rarity, the world had taken on a very different guise: no longer was it awash with clashing and shifting colors, but instead dark and ominous subtlety. Strangely, she was not sure which she had liked better.

            It had been time to sleep, but she had been unable to. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the fire and her face, and if she listened she thought that she could still hear the echo of Pinkamena’s final scream- -or the sound of Rainbow Dash sobbing when she thought no one was listening.

            Darknight had been able to sleep, but not well. He lay still on the floor, but always almost be on the verge of waking up. Sometimes he would shake and twist, or speak partial or strange words. Rarity had considered laying down next to him, but she did not want to snuggle a pony without his consent. That would simply be uncouth. It was quite apparent, though, that both of them needed it.

            Instead, Rarity had taken to wandering the halls of Twilight’s castle. They had been scary to her before, and they still were- -but all of it seemed less relevant now. Rarity’s mind felt numb and strange, and the thought of monsters lurking in the darkness or strange and perverse experiments had little bearing on her.

            There was not much to see within the castle. There were remnants of things that once were: architectural features that had likely once held fountains or statues, or rooms that had once had purpose but now stood empty. While it was apparent that Twilight had retained the things she valued- -the laboratories and the library- -she had allowed everything else to fall into extreme disrepair. Paintings sat faded and mildewed or taken out completely, and elegant tapestries had rotted to nothing. Even the suits of ancient pony armor had rusted nearly to oblivion. To Rarity, this was tragic, but also sad in a different way. It seemed that Twilight had allowed any reference to her family or her ancient noble lineage to fade and die, and then kept the unrecognizable remains around as though she thought of it as art.

            It was in this environment that Rarity spent what felt like hours walking alone while the others did what they chose to. She became increasingly lost, but did not care. Then she heard a noise.

            A door opened, and Rainbow Dash stepped out. Twilight followed her from behind, adjusting the long glove that she had just placed over her hoof. Rarity was confused as to what they had been doing togather, although she knew it was nothing romantic. The look on Rainbow Dash’s face was not one of regret, but one of pure resolve. The look on Twilight’s face was more complicated, but seemed almost as though she was trying not to smile.

            Rarity took a step forward, hoping to speak with them- -or at least to Rainbow Dash- -but then froze. She winced and nearly collapsed as a wave of vertigo and head pain engulfed her. This was followed immediately by a strange and largely indescribable feeling that progressed to mild nausea.

            “Ow,” she whined. “My head.”

            She looked up at Rainbow Dash and Twilight. They had not noticed her, but they had stopped moving. Looking closer, though, Rarity began to realize that something was horribly wrong. They had not simply gone from walking to standing: they were still walking, but had frozen in place mid-step. Even their facial expressions were fixed, as though they were strange statues.

            Rarity looked on at this odd sight with growing apprehension. Eventually she decided to try to approach. Doing so seemed like a horrible mistake when she took the first step. The world seemed to move out of synch, as if motion did not behave by normal rules and physics. The second step hardly went better, but by the third Rarity was able to walk with reasonable balance.

            “Rainbow Dash?” she said. “Twilight?”

            She leaned in close to them and saw that they were not breathing. What that meant, though, was unclear. If they were frozen in place, it stood to reason that they would not be breathing. It would only be natural- -but there was nothing natural about this situation.

            Rarity contemplated this for a moment, but it only made her head hurt more. She winced again and took a step back- -only to see Starlight standing over Twilight.

            She had not been there before, and Rarity jumped. As she watched, though, Starlight slowly turned. Like Rarity, she was able to move freely. She stared at Rarity wordlessly for a long moment with her strange, broken eyes. Rarity realized that they had changed since the two of them had first met; although they were still blank, the irises were no longer circular. It was as if they had been slit in half and reconnected unevenly with scar tissue.

            “Starlight?” said Rarity.

            Starlight, of course, did not respond. She instead walked past Rarity, leaving a trail of strange blue magic in her wake. Rarity looked back once to Rainbow Dash and Twilight, and then followed Starlight to wherever it was she was going.

            Her path was slow and strangely silent- -and yet Rarity always found herself behind the other pony. It was a strange sensation, one that defied logical explanation. Starlight was moving so slow, and yet Rarity nearly needed to sprint at some points just to keep pace with her.

            Then, without warning, Starlight stopped. She was standing at a large window, or what might have been the medevial equivalent of a window. It was a gap that opened to the outside through several large slits. Outside, the rain had started. It smelled bizarre, not at all like the rain of chocolate milk that Rarity was accustomed to. Yet, as Rarity watched, she saw that none of the droplets were coming through the window. They had in fact all frozen mid-fall, suspended in the darkened air.

            Lightning flashed outside- -or had been flashing. The bolt was trapped halfway to the ground, its white glow illuminating the Forest below. In the light of that incomplete lightning bolt, Starlight seemed strange. It was as though she were pale and somehow so very tall.

            “Starlight,” said Rarity, putting her hoof on the pale unicorn’s shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

            Starlight slowly turned her head toward Rarity, and her blind eyes stared for a long moment. “No,” she said.

            Rarity nearly jumped in surprise, but for some reason she instead seemed to freeze, staring in awe and fear. She had never heard Starlight speak before. She had been told- -and assumed- -that being lobotomized had left her mute.

            Starlight seemed just as surprised. She moved her mouth as if trying to say something else, but seemed to have some difficulty forming words.

            “Starlight,” said Rarity. “You…you spoke!”

            “I did,” she said after a moment. Her voice was hoarse and raspy, a result of having not spoken in so long.

            “Were you…but I thought- -how long have you been able to talk?!”

            “That was the first since…since then.” Starlight shook her head and looked away, out the window. “It…not the only thing I can do, it seems.”

            Rarity’s eyes widened. “You’re doing this? You’ve frozen time!”

            Starlight paused, and then nodded. “Yes.”

            “How?”

            “I don’t…not…I don’t have the words to explain yet.”

            “Oh, of course! Take your time! Here, do you need to sit down? I’m sure I can find a comfortable chair around here somewhere…well, if this was anypony ELSE’S castle I would be able to find serviceable furniture. But there has to be a sofa or divan or somesuch…”

            “Rar…ity. No. I don’t need to sit.”

            “Oh. Well, I certainly feel a need to. This is so surprising I might faint. I mean, I would if the floor weren’t simply so filthy!” She turned to Starlight excitedly. “This is just so unexpected! Just wait until the others find out!”

            “They won’t.”

            Rarity’s excitement collapsed into confusion. “Excuse me, darling? But the others, they have to know! You can’t simply go around pretending to be…well…”

            “Broken,” said Starlight, darkly. “No. I’m not going back. Her…she will break me again.”

            “You mean Twilight.”

            Starlight shuddered when she heard the name. “Yes. HER.”

            “Well, I admit that Twilight is cruel and…unpleasant…but- -”

            “Do you know what she- -did to- -me!” screamed Starlight, her volume making it difficult for her to produce the entire sentence without pausing to think. “She made me- -like- -as- -THAT!”

            “Starlight- -”

            Starlight’s voice dropped. “She didn’t tell you. No reason to. Why would it matter, what she did to us? What she took from us?”

            “Us?” asked Rarity, hoping that Starlight was using the royal we.

            Starlight paused, and she looked as though she were about to cry. “It hurts.”

            “Starlight, we can help you.”

            “It hurts,” she repeated with the exact same town and inflection as before. “It...hurts. To think. To remember. So much pain. So much still…broken. But I see HER and I see THEM.”

            “Slow down,” said Rarity, speaking with the most calming voice she could summon. “You don’t have to remember anything now. It’s safe here.”

            “And yet…seven are now six, here,” she snapped. Seeing- -or perceiving- -Rarity’s expression, however, she took a breath and tried to calm herself. “I have to remember. Have to, forever. Have to tell you. Before I am gone.”

            Rarity felt a wave of concern, but she also knew that this was important to Starlight. Every word seemed to pain her, as though she had to search for them from deep inside. So Rarity decided that the only polite course of action would be to listen.

            “If you need to tell me something, tell it.”

            Starlight looked somewhat surprised, but then nodded. “Us…we. My village. I founded a village, in the distant Madlands. For ponies like me. Who were tired of pain, danger, Chaos. Where we would be safe. Equal. New government.”

            “And…and Discord must have sent the Watchers.”

            Starlight nodded solemnly. “He can’t have that. Governments beyond his control, that support peace, order, harmony. One Watcher came. Twilight Sparkle. She…pretended to be my friend. Pretended to be equal…and then…needle…my eye…broken…”

            “Starlight,” said Rarity. “Please. We need to find a place for you to sit. This stress, it’s too much for you in your present state.”

            Starlight shook her head. “She took me. She only wanted ME. The rest…she killed them. My friends. No, family. Ponies I promised to help, to give a better life. She killed them all. And all I could do was watch. But I couldn’t think. Couldn’t understand. But now I do…”

            “That’s…that’s terrible.”

            “But not unexpected.”

            Rarity was somewhat taken aback, but she knew what Starlight meant. “No,” she admitted. “No it isn’t.”

            Starlight stood in silence for a long moment. “What Luna did to me…it wasn’t an attack. Not really. She went into my mind…and I saw her. Felt her. And whatever she did…she fixed me. Or started to.” She looked out the window. “And now look at me.” She raised her horn, and the rain and lightning outside began to slowly move- -in reverse. The lightning slowly retracted upward, and the raindrops rose lazily upward. This seemed to strain Starlight somewhat, and she stopped after a moment. Outside, the change in the length of the lightning bolt had changed its brightness. It was now dim, but somehow Starlight’s body only seemed to be lit brighter.

            “Everything taken from me,” she said, softly, “but what have I been given?”

            Rarity looked out the window. “I’m sorry,” she said.

            “For what? There is nothing you could have done to help us. And you…I don’t think you are like the others. That is why you are here now. The only one I cared enough to talk to.”

            “Well, I’m certainly here. Unless I’m dreaming.” Rarity looked up at the tiny frozen lightning bolt. “Which at this point seems to be a distinct possibility.”

            “You’re not.”

            “Then why me?”

            “A murderer, a soldier, a machine, and something far worse. Where does that leave you? What are you, Rarity? Why are you here?”

            “I have my reasons.”

            “But I do not.” Starlight turned to Rarity. “Twilight tortured me. Endlessly. But I obeyed her, because I could understand how not to. But not I know. And I am no longer going to fight her war.”

            Rarity was silent for a moment. “I see,” she said at last. “And I understand. But…”

            “But?”

            “But you are the strongest one here. Certainly stronger than me, but even stronger than Twilight. By far. You’re the only one here strong enough to challenge the Princesses.”

            “That depends.”

            “On what?”

            “On if having a mind makes me stronger, or weaker. I think weaker.”

            “But you can still help us win.”

            “Win what, exactly? You can feel it. Discord is dead. The government has fallen. There is nothing left. Defeat Luna and Celestia, and what is left?” Rarity did not have a good answer. Starlight seemed to take notice. “This is not my war. It never was” she said. “I have no love for Discord, and no hate for the Princesses. I am neutral.”

            “But how do you know the world will be safe? If they take control, what will they do to us? To Equestria!”

            “It does not matter to me,” said Starlight. “I have no stake in this anymore.”

            “But I do. I have my sister. And I need to keep her safe.”

            “Rarity. You do not need to fight this war either. You are no longer bound as a Watcher. If you stay here, with them, you may never see your sister again.”

            “You’re asking me to come with you.”

            Starlight shook her head. “I’m asking you to leave with me. But where I am going, you cannot follow. No one can.”

            Rarity looked up at Starlight and then smiled. She reached into one of her pockets, digging for a moment before producing a large red gem.

            “Here,” she said, giving it to Starlight.

            Starlight did not see the gem, but clearly perceived it. She seemed confused. “What is this?”

            “I made it for you. As a gift. Take it with you. I have to stay, but I understand. I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you any more.”

            Starlight took the gem, and held it in her magic. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, Rarity.”

            With that, there was a final flash of light. Outside, the roar of the rain suddenly became deafening. The lightning struck downward and vanished. Rarity watched the empty spot where Starlight had been, feeling the splatter of rain against her face, and listened to the sound of the thunder.
> Chapter 24: The Beam
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity entered the room with equal parts confidence and fear. The night before, she had been unable to sleep. Instead, she had busied herself with the preparations for the battle that she knew was coming. She had polished her armor, sharpened her knife, and loaded her pistol.

            When she entered, she saw Darknight. He had similarly prepared his armor, doing his best to patch the damage that it had occurred in the last fight.

            “Did you sleep well?” asked Rarity.

            “No,” he said. “I had strange dreams.”

            “What do you mean ‘strange’?”

            Darknight was pensive for a moment. “I’m not sure. It was hard to tell. But I saw…her.”

            “Her?”

            Darknight looked at her, and then shook his head. “Anomalies. I’m just not used to it, I suppose. Noncans rarely dream.”

            “After what you saw, I think you deserve it.”

            “She was not the first Watcher I have seen die. Nor will she be the last. And this…it makes me sad.”

            At that time, Sunset Shimmer entered the room. “You two,” she said. “I’m glad you’re up.” She looked around. “Where the buck are Twilight and Rainbow Dash.”

            “I’m already here,” said Rainbow Dash. One of the more shadowy stone walls shimmered as she stepped forward, revealing herself. She had been hiding beneath her cloak. Even Rarity was a bit stunned; she had not realized that her cloak was really so effective.

            At the same time, she saw why Rainbow Dash had been using it. She looked terrible. It was simultaneously apparent that she had not slept at all, had been crying, and had taken a considerable amount of whatever drug cocktail she was favoring for that day. “I don’t need to be briefed,” she said. “Twilight told me everything.”

            “Like Tartarus you don’t need to be briefed,” said Sunset. “Do you think you’re just going to go in there guns blazing?”

            “I’m going to kill Xyuka,” said Rainbow Dash, plainly.

            “Not by yourself you’re not. Remember, you’re the one who took the most damage last time.”

            “I don’t care how hurt I get. I’m going to get revenge. For her.”

            “Not if it costs any more of us. I’ve confirmed it, as best as I can. Discord is dead. That means we’re the last six Watchers EVER. Either we go in as a team, or not at all.”

            “Five,” corrected Rarity. “There are five of us now.”

            Sunset looked to Rarity, seeming confused. She opened her mouth to ask what she meant, but before she could speak Twilight flashed into the room.

            “There you are,” growled Sunset. “What the buck took you so- -”

            “It’s Starlight,” said Twilight rapidly. “I can’t find her! She’s not in the perimeter spell around the castle, not anywhere!”

            A look of realization came across Sunset’s face. She knew what Rarity had meant.

            “She may have wandered off,” suggested Darknight.

            “She can’t ‘wander off’,” snapped Twilight, as though that were something unbelievably obvious. “She only does what I TELL her to do!”

            “Not anymore,” said Rarity.

            Twilight suddenly glared at Rarity and took a step forward, charging her horn. “You little witch,” she said, “you did something to her!”

            “Stand down,” ordered Sunset.

            “You do NOT give me orders!” screamed Twilight. “This is MY castle! MY home! I am not going to take instructions from a magicless cybernetic ABOMINATION!”

            “Starlight is gone,” said Rarity. “She left.”

            “I just told you! She can’t leave- -”

            “And I just told YOU that she DID.  She spoke to me last night.”

            “She can’t speak. She doesn’t have the capacity!”

            “Then how do I know about her village? About what you did to her friends? About how you couldn’t defeat her in a proper fight, so you took…well, a rather dastardly alternative route.”

            Twilight grew pale. “You shouldn’t know that.”

            “I do. That spell that Luna used on her seems to have undone your work.”

            “Well buck,” said Sunset. “This just got a lot more hopeless.”

            “We have to retrieve her,” said Twilight, flatly.

            “No,” said Rainbow Dash. “Starlight is not my concern. Only Xyuka.”

            “And we don’t have the horsepower to take her down anyway,” said Sunset. “I mean, you saw her, right? Even if we had the entire Centre on watch, I don’t know if we could find her, let alone ‘retrieve’ her.”

            “Do you know how much time I have invested in her? Do you have any idea how difficult the implants in her body COST?”

            “No. And I don’t care. You can go look for her if you want. AFTER we deal with the problem at hoof.”

            Twilight fumed for a moment, but then looked to Rainbow Dash. She groaned. “Fine,” she said.

            “Right,” said Sunset. “Now. Do any of you have synax bullets left?”

            “I brought four,” said Darknight, “but I had to use two in the escape.”

            “Three,” said Rainbow Dash, “and one runic round.”

            “I’ve got two,” said Sunset shimmer. “Heavy caliber. Let’s hope it’s enough.”

            “Enough for what?” asked Rarity.

            “I’ve run the math on the scans. I still have no idea what the Stonies are using as armor. It’s not magic, but it’s some kind of field. Normal bullets won’t penetrate well, but synaxarium should be able to short it out. Darknight, give one of your rounds to Rarity.”

            Darknight nodded and removed a secondary magazine from his body. He clicked out one of the bullets onto his hoof. It looked strange, with no definite color or shape. He passed it to Rarity.

            “I don’t know if this will fit my revolver,” said Rarity.

            “It will. Trust me.”

            Rarity removed her pistol from its holster and daintily removed one of the bullets. She held the synaxarium bullet up to the cylinder, and saw that it was indeed the wrong size and shape- -only to suddenly realized that it would indeed fit. Rarity blinked, not knowing if she had just been mistaken or if the cartridge had changed to fit its new temporary home. Whatever the case, she put it into the last hole.

            “Okay,” said Sunset. “I have no intel. None at all. But I can tell you what I think is going to happen. My guess is we’ll be walking into an entire army of Stonies. They are going to protect their creator. To the death. This isn’t going to be an easy fight.”

            “None of us expect it to be,” said Darknight.

            Sunset nodded. “We need to take Xyuka ALIVE.”

            “I can’t promise that,” said Rainbow Dash.

            “You’re going to have to. We need information out of her.”

            “At the very least, we need her brain,” said Twilight. “And besides. Do you really want to just put a bullet through her head and let her go like that?”
            Rainbow Dash smiled, although it was a vicious and unpleasant expression. “No. She doesn’t deserve that.”

            Twilight smiled. “Excellent.”

            Sunset turned to Twilight. “Alright,” she said. “There’s still enough residual Chaos in the distribution system to power the portals, but without Pinkie, we can’t use them. You’re going to have to teleport us.”

            Twilight nodded and lit her horn. Rarity braced herself. There was a flash of light, and they left the castle. For three of them, it would be for good.



            The teleportation brought them to Xyuka’s island. Although, as Rarity quickly realized, it was no longer an island at all. She immedicably blinked and looked around. For some reason, she had expected the situation to be far more epic, with scenery more fitting of the mood. A night attack, perhaps, or one in driving rain or even snow. Instead, she found herself standing under a bright, pleasant blue sky. Or what would have been a pleasant blue sky were it not for the massive fractal structure that had once been the moon dominating the sky.

            Likewise, the island was no longer floating. None of them were. The Cataclysm had withered and almost entirely vanished, and the Chaos energy that had kept the Floater District floating had caused the islands to descend. Looking out across the rocky landscape, it appeared that for the most part the result had been cataclysmic. For Xyuka’s island, though, the landing appeared to have been smooth as though aided by some unseen secondary force: it now sat amongst the toxic and uninhabitable stones as green and pleasant as ever, if slightly unleveled.

            Twilight winced and took a several deep breaths.

            “Twilight?” said Sunset. “Why are we on the perimeter?”

            “It’s as close as I could get us,” she said. “Something was jamming the spell.”

            “A magical perimeter?”

            “If it’s magic, it’s not any kind I’ve ever seen.”

            This seemed to make Sunset’s expression darken. “No time to investigate,” she said. “We’ll have to make the rest on hoof.”

            “Not a problem,” said Rainbow Dash, taking flight into the trees. She disappeared almost instantly, disguised by her polychromic cloak.

            “Should we split up?” asked Darknight.

            “No. Dash will manage cover fire as usual, but if we get hit, we need to be together.”

            Rarity gulped in a rather unladylike fashion, and then followed the others into the manicured and artificial forest, knowing full well that she might not come back out of it.



            The Watchers had arrived. Xyuka’s scanners had detected them immediately. This course of events was unusual, but not unexpected. Xyuka had predicted that there was a higher probability that they would attempt to attack the Princesses first. Still, she had prepared for this contingency.

            Or, rather, she had failed to plan for it, apart from an awareness that it might happen. There was not really a need to. She had the Black Rainbow. All she needed to do was to wait for the project to be ready. There was nothing the Watchers could do to stop her.

            She approached the podium of the primary projector. She lifted the Black Rainbow- -encased in its orange interface cylinder- -and inserted it into the machine. She then opened a panel on her armor and removed two more stones- -each exactly identical to the first. Removing them took a significant load off her internal systems, and her processing speed accelerated as she built their cylinders and inserted them into the machine. As it hummed to life, several angular columns emerged from around it. Using these, Xyuka interfaced herself- -and the reactor within her- -to the machinery. This device, after all, was only a transmitter. The actual computational element was her own body.

            It was at that time that the Watchers arrived.



            Sunset had been wrong. There had been no resistance. The entire island was vacant. Not one Stonie- -or any noncan or pony for that matter- -was there. The trees and gardens were silent, and had they not been so green, Rarity would have sworn that they were dead. Maybe they really were.

            They did not find a pony of any kind until they reached a large stone courtyard outside of Xyuka’s imposing brutalist headquarters. Standing there as if waiting were three. Two of them were Xyuka’s assiatnants, the faceless custom Stonie units. The other was dressed in a peculiar kind of armor, one that seemed to be made of many different types and styles of parts merged into a cohesive whole. The armored pony showed no skin whatsoever, but Rarity did not even question that it was Xyuka.

            More peculiar was that Xyuka seemed to be surrounded by some manner of machine. Rarity did not know what it was for, but she could feel it running deep within the marrow of her horn. Whatever it was, it was not something that should ever be allowed to activate.

            When the Watchers reached the courtyard, Xyuka turned away from the machine and stepped forward, joining her Stonies. Strangely, Sunset walked forward, taking the lead.

            “Sunset,” whispered Rarity.

            “We’re not going to sneak attack her,” said Sunset. “She’s scanning us. She’s been scanning us since we got here. I’d bed my right front leg that she even knows exactly where Rainbow Dash is standing.”

            “And we’re just going to walk up to her and fight?”

            “If that is how she wants to do it,” said Darknight, “I suggest we give her at least that courtesy.”

            Rarity hesitated, but took faith in the fact that the others knew what they were doing- -or at least that her mithril armor would be able to stop most of whatever Xyuka could throw at her. Somehow, though, she felt very apprehensive about the whole thing.

            They walked closer, and eventually stopped, the group of four ponies facing the group of three.

            “Watchers,” said Xyuka. She did not say it with a sense of dread or loathing, but as a simple declarative. It was almost as though it were a polite greeting.

            “Xyuka,” said Sunset Shimmer. “You are under arrest for crimes against Equestria, Discord, and Eternal Chaos itself.”

            “No I’m not,” said Xyuka. “The government implicit in your statement no longer exists. Celestia and Luna, I believe, are the current rulers of Equestria. Which I suppose makes you rebels? Rogues? Anachronisms?”

            “You don’t have to fight, Xyuka. I’m giving you the option. Come quietly, and peacefully.”

            “So that you can torture me?”

            “No.”

            “Not very honest, I see. It would not matter anyway. I don’t know if my body can feel pain anymore.”

            “You know how to put them back,” said Darknight. “The Sisters. You can put them back in the moon.”

            “Yes,” said Xyuka without any hesitation or doubt. “I could. It would be relatively trivial. But I’m not going to.”

            “Why not?” asked Rarity. “Can’t you see the damage your causing?”

            “I can. But I need the moon in its current conformation. Releasing the Princesses was more or less incidental. I have no motivation to put them back.”

            “Then we get to do this the fun way,” said Twilight. “You say you can’t feel pain? You would be surprised how many ponies have claimed that to me. I haven’t seen one yet who didn’t scream when I…well, you’ll find out soon enough.”

            “It’s not a boast,” said Xyuka. “It’s a lament.”

            “Then we do this with violence,” said Darknight, drawing his pistols and sword. He braced himself, and then charged forward. Before he even made it three steps, one of the Stonies had met him and slammed her hoof into his chest. His eyes widened as the wind was knocked out of him.

            “You can try,” said Xyuka. “If you feel like being shortsighted.”

            There was a distant explosion, and something whizzed by Rarity’s head. An orange dome appeared around Xyuka and the large-caliber bullet rebounded off its surface harmlessly, followed by the four more that followed.

            Then a much more powerful explosion occurred. Rainbow Dash had charged toward Xyuka with all of the force she could muster. As she screamed with rage and raised her hoof for a deadly blow.

            As she accelerated, Rainbow Dash exceeded speed of sound, producing a plume of Rainbows that surrounded and framed her. Xyuka watched for a moment, and then her body glowed with blue radiation as she exceeded the speed of light.

            From Xyuka’s perspective, the world seemed to slow to a near stop. She could still perceive motion, but only through the modifications in her brain and suit. Vision was impossible when beams of light themselves were trapped in relative stasis, but Xyuka had alternate methods of perception.

            She took a step forward toward where Rainbow Dash was only ten feet from her, her hoof raised for a supersonic blow and her face contorted with rage and tears. As Xyuka walked, the stone below her feet ignited and melted from the sheer energy that she was expending to move. Moving at this speed was a strain on both her body and the suit, but they were both holding against the tremendous force and resistance that she was overcoming as she slowly moved forward.

            “You know,” she said, speaking to Rainbow Dash, “for the longest time, it was my greatest dream to be able to move as fast as you could. And now look at me.” She paused and stared into Rainbow Dash’s violet eyes. “But I never learned to fly. After you died…there just wasn’t a point in it anymore. Isn’t that odd? All the things I’ve done…and that’s what I’m most ashamed of. That I never got to fly with you.”

            Xyuka paused, and then addressed somepony else. “Although usually when I do this I find myself alone.” She turned toward the void produced by her immense speed. The luminescent white dot on her mask moved to the edge to look at the pale violet unicorn standing beside her. “You were always strong, Starlight Glimmer, but in this version of Equestria you are almost godlike. If you cared to, you could sway this battle. In either direction.”

            “I have no desire to,” said Starlight. “I’m only here to observe.”

            “And odd case, isn’t it?” she said. “It’s invariable. Whenever a being becomes transcendently powerful, they lose stakes in what us mortals are doing. They dissociate, disconnect. Do you know what the end of that road is, Starlight?”

            “No.”

            “Screaming, mindless omnipotence.”

            Starlight shrugged.

            “I can respect your position, though.” Xyuka raised her hoof into the air and put it an inch from Rainbow Dash’s nose, reinforcing the solid state power assist in armor as she did. “And if it counts or anything, I wish you luck. But I prefer to take a more active role.”

            Xyuka returned to normal speed, and Rainbow Dash’s face slammed into her hoof at supersonic velocity.



            The others entered the fray as well. In their case, though, none of them could engage Xyuka directly. Her assistants rushed forward to protect their master, forcing the group to split. Darknight chose to engage the one that had winded him.

            He now had an understanding of their speed. They were faster than normal ponies, even faster than most noncans. He was, however, also a noncan- -a very high quality one. He could not match them, exactly, but he now knew that he had to do his best to dodge and parry.

            And dodging and parrying was exactly what he did. In fact, it was just about all he could do. The unit that attacked him did so without hesitation or relent. Not only was her body fast, she found, but her mind seemed to be vastly accelerated as well. Her reflexes were unimaginably fast, and she coordinated multiple complex tasks and attacks without any detriment.

            The attacks themselves mostly consisted of using whatever it was that all the Stonies seemed to have installed in their bodies- -although with this one, it was far more advanced. The translucent orange that covered her body was not simple plates of armor, but an amorphous machine that continually shifted and restructured itself as she moved. Whenever Darknight got close, it would morph into blades or barbs; whenever he tried to get to range, it would morph again and attack him with a series of scanning lasers.

            He did his best to shoot at it. He did not use the synax bullet, not yet- -he had to first confirm that it was possible to strike. What he found was dismaying. With the speed that both of them moved, he had no chance to get a reliable bead on her. Some of his bullets would hit- -uselessly of course- -but he could not guarantee a strike.

            In fact, he was losing- -badly. The Stonie managed to score several hits, cutting him deeply. The wounds burned into him, and seemed to have a lasting toxic effect. It burned, but as a noncan he was programmed to ignore pain. It was quite possible that he would die, but it did not matter. He was not canon; he was disposable. If he could distract the Stonie long enough, it might allow the others to get to Xyuka.

            The Stonie jumped back suddenly, pirouetting in a way that only the most lithe and flexible ponies were able to. An unexpected blast shot from her armor, something that was not a laser precisely but more like a mobile blade. Darknight dodged, but the blade did not move in a straight line. Instead, it turned and began to track him.

            His angle was wrong for a second dodge, so he projected a shield spell, knowing that it would not be strong enough to block the projectile completely. He did not have to block it, though. Rarity intervened, throwing her mithril-coated body between the projection and Darknight.

            She was knocked back, but the blade did not penetrate. Instead, Darknight was forced to catch her.

            “Oh my,” she said. “Do you need some help?”

            “Fall back!” ordered Darknight.

            “I’m not completely helpless,” said Rarity.

            The Stonie attacked, and Darknight pushed Rarity away just in time for both of them to avoid the strike. Rarity drew her pistol, and the Stonie saw it. She dodged, but Rarity moved with her. Darknight saw a flash of something between them, and realized that there was a small thread connecting Rarity’s clothing to the Stonie. It had been tied around her hoof. When she moved, she dragged Rarity with her.

            The Stonie seemed to realize this, and took advantage of it. She wrenched Rarity forward into the spinning mass of toxic projections that coated her body. Rarity went toward it without hesitation or fear, spinning the delicate cylinder of her revolver with her magic until it sat on the last chamber. Then she fired.

            The Stonie’s armor condensed, forming a sheild around her body- -but the bullet ignored it. It struck with a small explosion of plaid, tearing through the orange energy as though it were butter, and it went directly through the Stonie’s black faceplate. Her head was knocked back and her shield collapsed, but she did not fall.

            Darknight did not question why she was standing. He drew his blade and took the opportunity. Part of the Stonie’s shield sputtered and ignited, blocking the sword. The runes on the sword glowed and sparked as Darknight forced it forward with all of his might. The damaged sheild resisted at first, and Darknight’s magic strained, but he did not give up.

            Then it gave way. The sword slid forward into flesh, penetrating the Stonie’s side and slicing through her heart. She shuddered, and Darknight drew out the sword. The Stonie took one step toward him, and then fell. She had been killed.



            The fight with the other one was going better, but the result was not yet as decisive. Sunset did not need to worry about injury; her body felt no pain, and received little damage. Despite her size, she was far faster than a normal pony, as well as far stronger. Most importantly, though, her experience with combat was far greater than the Stonie’s.

            Or at least, it should have been. This was just a machine, something that Xyuka had built. It had been programmed in a tank. And yet, somehow, it reacted and operated in ways that only a veteran combatant would be able to replicate. There was an attitude about it, a confidence and creativity that went beyond what a machine should have been able to accomplish. But there was something else. Part of the way it moved and fought was identical to the way Sunset did. It not only knew her style of behavior, but used it as well. It was as though it had been alive in the era where she had learned how to fight, even though that was impossible.

            This forced Sunset to rely more heavily on her body. This was not a problem.

            She raised a hoof and opened fire with a stream of automatic gunfire. The Stonie responded predictably, generating a shield. Sunset immediately shifted behavior, firing a low-frequency laser instead. The laser cut through the bullet-optimized shields, striking flesh underneath and forcing a minor retreat. The Stonie returned fire with its own laser, but Sunset activated her jets and moved to the side. As she did, she deployed a pair of rockets from her side.

            The Stonie was able to take down both of them with its own defensive lasers, but the resulting plume of fire and smoke gave Sunset the cover she needed to surge forward and slam her robotic hoof into the noncan’s face. It was like punching steel, and her scans had already indicated that these Stonies had no organic brains, but the creature still reeled from the immense force of the blow.

            Sunset struck again, this time deploying a blade. The blade concentrated the force of the second punch, forcing the stony to compensate- -only to be struck in the head by a two-hoofed buck. She was send backward again.

            She righted herself, but her body then suddenly sparked as a pink-violet spell formed around her, entangling her in something that closely resembled magically assembled thorns. It cut into her armor, and found any holes it could, digging into her body. Sunset looked over her shoulder to see Twilight casting the spell.

            “Sunset! I can’t hold her forever!”

            Sunset nodded and raised her hoof. The automatic internal system loaded the synaxium bullet, and she fired. It struck with enough force to cause a small explosion. The effect was immediate; it overloaded the Stonie’s shield, but also dispelled Twilight’s spell. It probably would been a lethal impact, but the noncan just barely managed to force herself to the side enough for her to dodge the full force of the bullet. It cut her though the shoulder instead of the heart, and she shook and fell to her knees.

            This was the chance Sunset had been waiting for. She stepped forward and struck the Stonie in the face. There was no brain inside her skull, but whatever he had instead received substantial force. She shuddered and collapsed, still breathing but inert.

            Sunset raised her hoof to finish the job. That was when she suddenly became aware of a single white light on a black featureless mask, both belonging to a pony that was standing less than a foot away from her.

            “You know,” said Xyuka, her single eye tracking across to the edge of her mask. “I rather like that leg.”

            A beam of red light shot out, and Sunset cried in pain. She jumped back and attempted to brace herself, only to find that she could not stand properly. Her balance was wrong. A familiar feeling of nauseating disbelief washed over her when she saw her limb lying on the ground.

            Xyuka approached it. She extended her own right hoof, and two small tetrahedrons circled it, projecting a pair of red beams. In a matter of seconds, her own hoof fell to the ground. She then picked up Sunset’s arm and put it on the stump. Her body accepted it immediately, and it began to change. The metal shell of the leg was eaten away and the internal skeleton rebuilt. When Xyuka was done, all that remained was a skeletal claw. She looked at it and flexed her new hand.

            “I like it,” she said, watching as her own original hoof dissolved into a silvery liquid and then disappeared entirely into a thick foul-smelling smoke. “I think I’ll keep it.”

            “Sunset, move!”

            Sunset dodged and a beam shot from Twilight’s horn. It struck Xyuka in the chest- -and had no effect. Xyuka seemed to notice, though, and turned her attention to Twilight.

            “You- -you broke my spell,” said Twilight in disbelief. “But you’re not even a unicorn!”

            “No. I’m actually a Pegasus pony, if you have to know. But I have far more experience with magic than you ever will.”

            Insulted, Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Oh really?” she said. “Well than how about this?”

            She pressed her left hoof against the ground and a red pentagram appeared around her.

            “Verminis!” she cried. “I call upon the many segmented one to- -”

            Xyuka turned arouond and kicked the pentagram with one of her rear legs. Despite her armor, the glow of the arcane runes burned into her skin showed through, and the circle shifted. The pentagram became something else entirely- -an asymmetrical seven-sided shape- -and it backfired into Twilight. She screamed as it exploded and as magic poured through her body. She collapsed in the center as the spell vanished.

            “The first portal I ever generated was to Tartarus,” said Xyuka calmly. “I was twelve. And don’t think I don’t know what that type of spell is REALLY for.”

            She jumped back suddenly, easily dodging Darknight’s sword. He twisted and struck again, and Xyuka dodged again.

            “A Dark series,” she said. “Ironic.”

            “Stand still!” he cried.

            “Fine.”

            Xyuka stopped dodging. The next blow landed the rune-sword directly against her neck. The runes sparked, and the blade shattered instantly on her armor.

            Darknight did not hesitate. He drew his gun, already loaded with the synaxium bullet.

            “Failsafe override,” said Xyuka. “Code: twenty percent cooler.”

            Darknight’s eyes widened, and he suddenly stopped. His gun stayed where it was, suspended in his magic, but it did not rise toward Xyuka, nor did any part of Darknight move. His body had been paralyzed.

            “So I see the internal programming still works,” said Xyuka. “And that they kept the old code.”

            Darknight closed his eyes, and the gun shook as he struggled against his innate programming. Xyuka watched. “Interesting…” she said. “Resisting the failsafe is usually either impossible…or fatal.”

            She raised her left front hoof and extended a blade. “No point in having you suffer, though.”

            Before she could do anything, she was blindsided by a blue object tailed by a rainbow contrail. Rainbow Dash had recovered from the blow to her head, and was back in the fight.

            Xyuka was thrown back with considerable force, and Rainbow Dash did not let go. She tackled her to the ground, attempting to strike at her face.

            “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” she screamed.

            “Really?” said Xyuka, as neutral as ever. Despite receiving a beating, she had terribly little investment in this fight. So far, none of them had managed to interfere. The process was nearly complete.

            “You killed her! You killed her! I loved her and YOU KILLED HER!”

            “I’ve killed a lot of ponies. I don’t remember the one you are speaking of.”

            This only enraged Rainbow Dash more, and she screamed, drawing a large caliber pistol from her side. Xyuka’s scanners detected the synaxium bullets inside, and she reacted as she deemed appropriate by producing a powerful electric field through her armor.

            Rainbow Dash screamed and fired a bullet, but not at Xyuka. It landed harmlessly in the ground. She was thrown back, stunned, but Xyuka’s orange field persisted around her weapon. She forced it to fire again, and again, and continued until it was empty of ammunition.

            Xyuka then stepped forward and raised a blade over her head, preparing for a lethal strike. Rainbow Dash looked up and stared at Xyuka defiantly, knowing that there was nothing she could do. She had excepted her own death.

            Except that Xyuka did not strike. Her hooves shook, and she could not bring herself to strike.

            “Coward,” hissed Rainbow Dash. “You’ve never killed anypony, have you?”

            Xyuka let out a dry, hideous laugh. “No. It’s just the Rainbow Dashs. After all this time, I still have trouble killing the Rainbow Dashs. But I can’t have you interfering.” She reached out with the claw at the end of Sunset’s stolen arm and grasped Rainbow Dash’s wing. Rainbow Dash let out a scream of terror and pain, far worse than anything she could have produced if her life alone were in question.

            “No, please!”

            “I’m sorry, sister.”

            Xyuka pulled, and tore the wing free of Rainbow Dash’s body. Rainbow Dash let out a blood-curdling scream that made the other pale in comparison, and then stepped back. Unable to balance, she fell on her side bleeding badly. Xyuka threw down the severed appendage.

            “Now you’re like me,” she said. “A Pegasus who will never fly. I’m sorry.”

            Xyuka then turned in time to knock back Sunset Shimmer, who had attempted to ram her. Doing so was not difficult; she was far stronger than the far more primitive cyborg. As she did, though, Xyuka felt a blade glance of her armor. She turned and cut, and then watched as the final Watcher jumped back.

            “Rarity,” said Xyuka, recalling the name distantly.

            “Yes,” said Rarity. “We’ve met.”

            “I’m surprised you’re here. I’m surprised you’re a Watcher. You should be back in Ponyville, making dresses.”

            “If only. But it looks like I’m the last one still standing uninjured.”

            “I would rethink that.” Xyuka pointed at Rarity’s side.

            Rarity looked down and her eyes went wide. She seemed to start to swoon when she saw the deep gouge through her mithril, and the silver fluid pouring out as though the armor itself were bleeding.

            “My clothes!” she cried. She looked up at Xyuka. “How- -how did you- -”

            “Mithril is the seven hundred and ninety sixth hardest substance I have yet encountered. Over two hundred of those do not even occur in this universe, naturally or unnaturally. A beautiful as your armor is, mine is harder.”

            Rarity frowned but did not fall. To her credit, she drew her sword and gun and took a defensive stance. Xyuka detected an unusual magical field, and watched as the bleeding from Rarity’s side began to slow and finally cease.

            “I’m not going to fight you,” she said.

            “Because you are worried you would lose?”

            “No. Because you can’t really do any harm to me. None of you can, but especially you. But that’s not the real reason.”

            “No? Then what is?”

            “Out of respect. For her. Her name…I can remember it. So long ago. Sweetie Belle.”

            Rarity inhaled sharply and seemed to become even more aggressive. “How dare you threaten mys sister!”

            “I’m not threatening her. I once loved her. She was one of my two best friends. I had forgotten…but I can’t forget that, can I?”

            “You’re insane. That’s not possible! There’s no way you’ve met my sister!”

            “True. On the second part. I assure you, I am apathetic but quite lucid. But also false. I have met her, but a long time ago. More years than you can comprehend. Than anyone can. Even me.”



            Across the stone plaza, Sunset stood up. The blow had been surprisingly forceful, and several items within her body were either completely nonfunctional or miscalibrated.

            Twilight was nearby, and Sunset limped to her side.

            “Are you dead, witch?”

            “No,” moaned Twilight, standing up shakily. “A proper mage never uses a spell that can kill her if it fails.” She looked out to the battlefield. Xyuka seemed to be having a casual conversation with Rarity, and Darknight was standing stupidly, apparently just watching with his gun aiming at nothing. Rainbow Dash was lying nearby in an expanding pool of blood.

            “What is he doing?” she asked.

            “She used a failsafe code on him.”

            “Those still exist?”

            “Apparently.”

            “Well, shoot her! While she’s distracted, shoot her!”

            Sunset gestured to where her leg once had been. “My ammo was in that arm. I can’t shoot!”

            “Well, that’s not a bucking buck of a design flaw, now is it!” Twilight looked back to Xyuka. “We’re out of options. I’m getting us out of here.”

            “No,” said Sunset. “There’s still one left. The nuclear option.”

            “What the buck is that?”

            “It’s exactly what it sounds like.” Sunset gestured to her chest. “My primary reactor is based on an atomic slug. Twenty megaton yield.”

            Twilight’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious! An atom bomb- -you’d kill us all!”

            “Not if it were directed.” Sunset moved herself between Twilight and Xyuka, who was at a distance of about fifty meters. “Twenty megatons focused into a single point. Nothing could survive that. Not even her.”

            “But you’d die.”

            “Not if you keep the blast away from my key systems.”

            “Wait, ME?”

            “Yes, you! You’re the only one here with a horn, aren’t you?”

            “But- -twenty megatons! There’s no way I can do that! Starlight could, but I can’t!”

            Sunset grabbed Twilight by the shoulder. “Are you seriously saying that a lobotomized freak is stronger than you are? Come on!  You’re supposed to be the premier mage of Equestria! If Luciferian had heard you say that, he’d have spit in your face!”

            Twilight’s eyes narrowed in anger. “I AM the best mage. The BEST Twilight.”

            “Then prove it!”

            “And if I don’t?”

            “Then we die here. All of us except you.” Sunset pointed at Xyuka. “And she comes for you when you don’t have a nuke at your disposal. All alone. She’ll kill you too, Twilight.”

            Twilight looked at Xyuka, and then at Sunset. “I can’t make any promises.”

            “Well if you fail, we all die. But I’m willing to take that risk.”

            “I guess I am too. But there won’t be anything to recover- -”

            “It doesn’t matter,” said Sunset, taking a stance and beginning to disassemble the failsafes around her primary reactor.

            “Alright,” said Twilight, charging her horn.

            “Just keep the blast away from me,” said Sunset. “If I burn up, I won’t be able to keep the reactor intact. We’ve only got one shot. After this, I’m on auxiliary power only.”

            “I’m more concerned about, you know, the nuclear blast. But hey…” She looked down at her gloved hoof. “Who wants to live forever?”



            Xyuka suddenly detected an anomaly. Her attention turned toward Sunset Shimmer and Twilight. Her scanners indicated an extreme surge of radiation.

            “You’re attempting to defcon me,” she said, almost amused. “Hmm. In my current state, that might actually work. Although at that insignificant level, I should be able to block it.”

            “Hello?” said a voice that suddenly made Xyuka’s various circulatory fluids run cold. She turned her electronic eye back to Rarity- -or to where Rarity had been standing. Now, there was a different pony in her place. She wore the same armor, but her hair was different, as were her eyes. A fluffy, slightly curled pale violet mane, and similar violet eyes. She was an adult, not a filly like Xyuka remembered, but she recognized that face. It was one she could never forget.

            “Sweetie Belle,” she said.

            “Why are you doing this?” Sweetie Belle looked in panic to where Rainbow Dash was quivering in her own blood. “I don’t understand! Why are you hurting these ponies?”

            “Sweetie Belle, I’m sorry,” whispered Xyuka. “I’m so sorry…”

            “You don’t have to do this. Please, stop. Just stop fighting. Come with me.”

            “If only I could…”

            “But you can. Please! It’ll all be okay, Xyuka. It will all be okay!”

            At the sound of that accursed name, Xyuka felt her mind harden. “I remember,” she said. “Every day, every year, ever millennium I have to be alive, I remember you, Sweetie Belle. You and Applebloom. I’ll find you. Someday I’ll find you, I promise. I’ll get back home. If I have to burn a hundred thousand universes, I will be back. And you’ll look just like that. You’ll be so beautiful…” She sighed, and then activated several orange domes around herself. “But I can tell a morphic replica when I see one. Not real. None of it is real…”

            The nuclear blast began to fire. Xyuka did not much care; her several shields were more than adequate to absorb the impact harmlessly.

            Then there was a pop, an insignificant pop. Something struck the shields, but instead of bouncing off them, it sliced through. Each one it touched shattered as the synaxium bullet crushed through. Xyuka turned in shock to see Darknight, his pistol pointed at her, shaking from the immense strain. He had raised it, and managed to bring down her shields. Xyuka could not help but wonder why part of his blue coat had started to darken to black, or why his turquoise pupils had begun to narrow into slits.

            Xyuka did not have much time to reflect on just how intriguing that was, or the implications of it on a larger scale. The beam tore through her. Without her shields, she was defenseless. Her armor was vaporized, and the skin beneath it. To her, it was an intense flash, and then nothing.

            Rarity ducked, feeling the searing heat of the beam as it flashed by. She cried out and covered her head, terrified by the noise of the ionizing atmosphere and the atomic glow of the beam as it passed.

            Then, as soon as it came, it was gone. Rarity looked up to see what had happened, and wished that she had not. Xyuka had indeed been killed. The beam had cut through her body, and her head, neck, and most of her back were now missing entirely. All that remained was most of her torso and her legs, and that horrific remnant immediately slumped forward and collapsed.

            “We…we did it?” she said to herself, turning to Darknight, questioningly. He looked at her, and then winced as he took a great effort to lower his pistol and take a jerky step forward. The second step came easier, and he managed to speak.

            “I’ll get to Rainbow Dash,” he said. “You get to Sunset.”

            Rarity nodded. “Right.”

            She stood up and ran on her shaky, jelly like legs, ignoring the broken scales of mithril that tinkled to the stone floor below. As she approached, she saw that both Twilight and Sunset had collapsed. Twilight was vomiting blood and bleeding heavily from her eyes and ears. Sunset, meanwhile, had collapsed on her side.

            “Sunset?” cried Rarity, approaching her.

            “Oh sure,” said Twilight, wiping her mouth. “Of course it’s Sunset.”

            “I’m fine,” said Sunset. “But I can’t move. My reactor is drained. I have life support but- -”

            Rarity suddenly felt herself pushed out of the way. She saw an armor-clad hoof and a metallic claw reach down and take Sunsent by her neck. There was a sound of rending metal as she was lifted suddenly, and her body flew through the air, tossed like a doll.

            It all happened so fast that Rarity did not have time to understand. But then she looked up, and she saw it. Xyuka’s body, headless, but still standing, now held Sunset’s severed head, part of its mechanical spine still dangling from its broken neck.

            Without hesitation, the torso violently slammed the head into the ground. It’s skin tore and broke with each blow, and the stone cracked beneith it.

            “STOP!” shrieked Rarity. “STOP IT NOW!”

            But Xyuka’s body did not stop. Not at first. Only when she was done. Then she tossed the head aside and turned to Twilight.

            Xyuka’s injuries began to change. Blood swept into them, but it changed from red to a strange animated silver fluid. Metal grew like crystals, reforming and regenerating. Flesh followed, assembling itself over the mechanical innards like the shell it was.

            By the time Xyuka’s back armor had healed, her neck was already starting to regenerate. Rarity watched in horror as a skull began to form, starting with the base. It quickly filled with a system of coils before closing around on itself. Bone, muscle, silicon, metal, plastic and skin grew over what was left.

            In a matter of seconds, Xyuka was staring back at them. Not through her mask any more, but with her real face: her violet hair, her orange coat, and her fiery-dead violet eyes.

            “But that- -that’s not possible!” protested Twilight. “Your brain! Your brain was destroyed!”

            “You overestimate the importance of a brain,” said Xyuka. “It is not a critical organ. I had mine removed two hundred and six realities ago. It’s just tesla coils now.”

            “But you…you…”

            “I do not have the luxury of dying. Live long enough, and you lose even that.” Xyuka suddenly lifted her head into the air. “It is done,” she said. “If you had come twenty minutes later, you might all have left alive.”

            Her transmitter- -left intact and undamaged, as none of the Watchers had thought it had any relevance- -activated. A pale green beam shot upward, filling the air with the screech of its unique and atypical energy. It target the fractal moon above, and reached it within seconds.

            Xyuka once again accessed the systems of the moon, and above, the billions upon billions of tons of ancient machinery shifted one more time. The fractal expanded, becoming circular. A hole opened in the center, and it lit the sky with a horrible silver light. Somewhere far in Equestria, Luna began to scream.

            “It is done,” said Xyuka, staring up with a thin smile of relief on her face. “The portal is open. Seventeen thousand years in this Equestria, and I can finally move on.” She took a step forward, and then turned to the other ponies, specifically to Rarity. “I don’t know if I have any right to ask a favor of you,” she said, “but I will anyway. If you survive this…and she survives it…there is a girl. Probably an orphan. A little Pegasus filly, from Ponyville. Her name is Scootaloo. Find her. Make sure she grows up safe and strong. Or kill her on the spot. Just make sure she does not become me.”

            With that final remark, Xyuka walked slowly to the beam. Those among the Watcher who were still conscious watched her go. None tried to stop her- -and all were too engrossed to see the black face plate on the one surviving custom Stonie unit flicker and light with a single white circle, or to stop her as she stood up, projected a portal, and fled.

            Xyuka climbed the podium to the beam. She turned back one more time, and looked at the ruined ponies before her. They were not real. None of them were real. None ever were.

            She then stepped into the beam. Her body was immediately shredded into fragments and shot upward and incomprehensible speed, pulled upward toward the vast portal overhead. In less than a tenth of a second, she had departed. She would never again return to this version of Equestria, and had she been asked, she would likely have considered it no significant loss. 
> Chapter 25: Collapse
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Almost as soon as Xyuka entered the beam, the ground below started to shake. The color of the beam changed from pale green to dark blue, and the moon overhead changed shape. It became more angular, more diseased looking.

            A wave shot out from the transmitter, much like the one that had first engulfed Equestria on Rarity’s very first day as a Watcher. The blow felt the same, but far more powerful. Along with it came a deep rumble, a kind of explosion, and a feeling that the world were tearing itself apart.

            “What’s happening!” screamed Rarity over the squeal of energy that the beam produced.

            “It is a dimensional gate.” Rarity turned and to her horror saw that Sunset was speaking to her. Despite having her head severed, she was not dead. The head was still alive. The skin had mostly been removed from it, revealing the grinning metallic skull beneath. Her organic eye had burst, and its contents were dribbling down the side of her face. The other eye seemed unable to focus. Her mouth did not move when she spoke. “It is destabilizing.”

            “What does that mean?!”

            “It means that it’s going to tear half of Equestria off,” said Twilight, her eyes wide. She looked up at the beam. “Oh buck! I have to get out of here!”

            She immediately stood up and raced across the plaza to where Rainbow Dash was lying. Rainbow Dash was attempting to crawl across the ground to retrieve her severed wing, but she had not managed to reach it when Twilight pushed Darknight out of the way and grabbed her.

            “No!” she said. “My wing! I- -I need my wing!”

            “I only have enough energy for two,” said Twilight. Then, in a flash of pink-violet, she was gone, leaving only the severed wing behind.

            Rarity watched in panic as this happened, and immediately felt the sting of the betrayal. She had been left to die. They all had. Still, she gritted her teeth.

            “How do we stop it?” she said. “There has to be a way to stop it!”

            “I might be able to,” said Sunset. “But I need to interface to the system.”

            “Tell me what to do.”

            Sunset’s mechanical eye shifted, and Rarity looked to where it was pointing. The Stonie unit that she and Darknight had killed was lying a distance away.

            “Hardline me into that,” said Sunset. “The interface cycle might still be intact.”

            “And if it isn’t?”

            “There is nowhere to escape. We will die. Everypony will die.”

            Rarity felt her heart skip, but this was no time to faint. If she stopped now, everything would be lost. Not just her, but Sweetie Belle and all of Ponyville as well.

            With a strong sense of disgust, she picked up Sunset’s head and began running to the deceased noncan.

            This was not easy. Another wave shot out, and this one brought Rarity to her knees. This impact was not only physical, either. She felt her mind slip. It was a disturbing sensation, not painful but not pleasant. For a moment, Rarity lost track of where she was, and where she was going.

            “Rarity,” said Sunset. She sounded so distant. “Focus!”

            “Focus,” said Rarity, standing up. “Focus!”

            She stepped forward into the storm of energy and magic, feeling it swirling around her. The ground was now beginning to crack, and she could feel her mind cracking with it. Still, she did as Sunset said. In her mind, she mentally reviewed each and every type of stitch that she knew, sorting them into priorities based on application and what fabric they could be used for.

            When the next wave hit, she forgot again- -and something else took her objective’s place. Something she could not describe. But she did forget the stitches, nor did she stop. She struggled onward, forcing her way across the expanse.

            When she reached it, she collapsed, breathing hard. The air around her tasted bad, like metal and ozone.

            “How do I do it?!” she screamed.

            “Open the faceplate,” said Sunset. “Hurry!”

            Rarity did as she was told, and found removing the plate surprisingly easy. There was no face underneath, or even a skull. That had all been hollowed out and been replaced by machinery.

            “The port in the back of my head,” said Sunset. “Find a wire that matches it. Plug me in.”

            Rarity searched through the wires. It was difficult, and a sudden horror crossed her mind when she remembered that she had shot this unit through the head. If the bullet had severed the wire- -

            She did not allow herself to think that thought, and in a few second she found it. Fumbling and trying to move against the force of the storm, she reached out and connected it to Sunset’s head.

            “Accessing,” said Sunset, her one remaining eye beginning to scan. “I can…oh Discord, please give me the strength…THERE!”

            “Sunset!” cried Rarity, feeling her mind beginning to tear as she ran out of stitches.

            “I need more time, I have to- -”

            She was drowned out as something happened. Exactly what would have been impossible for Rarity to describe other than in terms of its effect. Her body collapsed, but her mind remained open. Whiles he stayed in one place, she became perceptive of other places- -places that were elsewhere.

            The world seemed to oscillate. Rarity found herself in a dark world of endless cities with a sky of eternal twilight, surrounded by throngs of mutants, demons, and cyborgs of every shape and size- - and then one where the sky was filled with thousands upon thousands of starships, each carrying out ponies in the name of the Eternal Queen. Then she found herself lying in cold snow, surrounded by gaunt alicorns, all of whom were staring at her with hungry, empty eyes as something horrible and indescribable circled above.

            She blinked and saw a different world, one where the sky was black and streaked with red, where the shadows had glowing white eyes and screamed inside her mind. Another blink, and the ground was red, a wasteland populated by enormous but strange, harsh plants that grew beneath a sickly yellow sky in a choking atmosphere of heat and radon.

            Then she found herself facing a pony. One dressed in mithril and white, her hair long and blue and her eyes red with horizontal slits for pupils. She looked back at Rarity, and smiled a strangely aggressive and hollow smile. A smile that conveyed only hatred.

            One final world came. Rarity opened her eyes to see a bright-lit world with green trees and singing birds. She saw the ponies there, and saw them laughing, smiling, playing, singing. This was a world where Chaos had never ruled, where ponies did not get murdered or raped or become psychotic. It was a happy place.

            Rarity felt a sense of profound longing for that world, and her mind began to move toward it. She felt it separating from her body. She could not enter that world, not whole. Xyuka had been the only one to survive that. Rarity did not care, though. Even if only part of her could make it there, a disembodied ghost that would be acceptable. She could forget this horrible world, and life forever in happiness and friendship.

            “Rarity!” called a distant voice. Rarity’s mind suddenly felt a twinge of recollection, and it slowed its descent. The voice called again. “Rarity!”
            Rarity paused for what felt like an eternity. She knew that voice, and knew that it was not time to leave yet.

            She opened her eyes. It took a moment to focus, but she saw Darknight standing over her, a look of genuine concern across his face. Behind him, the sky was red. Flaming objects were streaking across the sky: they were the fragments of the now destroyed mon, falling to Equestria from above.

            “Darknight,” said Rarity, trying to get up. “The portal- -”

            “It is closed,” he said. “You and Susnset, you stopped it. You saved Equestria.”

            “Sunset…” Rarity suddenly shot up. “Sunset!”

            “I am here,” said Sunset, her damaged mechanical eye turning toward Rarity. “I am here.”

            Rarity could not stop herself. She lunged forward and hugged both of them, bursting into tears as she did. “I was so afraid!” she squealed. “I thought- -I thought- -”

            They did not speak. They did not need to. They just embraced for what felt like minutes before Rarity released them. “Ahem,” she said. “Forgive me, that was intrusive.”

            “I did not mind,” said Darknight.

            “Well,” said Rarity. “We should start to think about our next course of action.”

            Darknight looked up at the brutalist building that stood in the distance. “I think I have an idea of where to start.”



            Twilight and Rainbow Dash materialized back in Twilight’s castle. Both of them dropped to the floor. Twilight was more drained than she had ever been, and  Rainbow Dash was in a kind of panic.

            “My wing,” she said. “Where- -where’s my wing?!”

            “Rainbow Dash- -”

            Rainbow Dash looked back at the stump and nearly vomited. Her entire body shook. “Oh god- -oh GOD! She took my wing! I- -I can’t fly! I’ll NEVER FLY!” She burst into tears. “My wing!” she wailed. “My WING!”

            Twilight reached down and grabbed Rainbow Dash’s shoulder, nearly shaking her and forcing their eyes to meet.

            “Rainbow Dash! Listen to me!”

            Rainbow Dash sniffled, but she stopped screaming. “T…Twilight?”

            “I’m a necromancer, remember? A mage? Remember? I make you a new wing. An even better one.”

            Rainbow Dash’s eyes became round with optimism. “You…you can?”

            “It wouldn’t even be hard,” said Twilight, shrugging. “I’m sorry about the original. There just wasn’t time.” She looked around. “But judging by the fact that we’re still here, I guess it didn’t go up anyway.”

            “It’s not your fault. It’s HERS. First the only pony I ever loved…ever COULD love…and now my wing. My flight. My freedom. I hate her. I hate her so MUCH.”

            “I’m sorry you didn’t get your chance,” said Twilight. “She’s gone now.”

            “I know,” said Rainbow Dash.

            “Here,” said Twilight, helping Rainbow Dash to her feet. “Careful! Move slowly. Your balance will be off for a while, until I get the new wing on.”

            “Thanks,” said Rainbow Dash, wobbling as Twilight released her and taking several awkward steps forward. “You’re a real friend, Twilight.”

            Twilight inhaled sharply. “Friend?” she said. “You…you consider me a friend?”

            Rainbow Dash stopped to consider it for a moment. “Yeah. You helped me out, you know? And you really get me. I mean, you’re a huge egghead, but I like you. Yeah. We’re definitely friends.”

            Silent tears dripped down Twilight’s face. “A friend,” she said. “I finally have a friend. After all this time. Finally…” She silently drew the long stainless steel needle from her clothing.

            “Don’t get too sappy on me,” laughed Rainbow Dash, weakly. “Hey, how about after you put the wing on, we can go get some drinks. Celebrate your first friend and all.”

            “Sure,” said Twilight. She then reached out with the needle. There was a popping crack as she jammed it between two of Rainbow Dash’s thoracic vertebrae. Rainbow Dash suddenly collapsed into a heap.

            “Twilight!” cried Rainbow Dash in a panic. “I- -I can’t feel my legs!”

            “Of course not,” said Twilight, wiping the needle on Rainbow Dash’s fur. “Because I just severed your spinal cord. You’re paralyzed from the neck down.”

            Even though she was facing away, Twilight saw Rainbow Dash’s eyes go wide with confusion and betrayal. “Wh- -what?” Twilight turned her over, and their eyes met. “Twilight- -I thought- -I thought we were friends! Why?”

            “Because I all ever needed was one friend. Only one.”

            Twilight reached out with her magic and encased Rainbow Dash’s head with it. Rainbow Dash’s eyes bulged with panic, and she tried to struggle. Her body did not move, though. It could not, and it never would again.

            “But I thought,” she said, tears running down her face. “I thought- -”

            Twilight increased the pressure suddenly. Rainbow Dash’s head imploded, and her brain matter squirted in several directions. There was a momentary involuntary spasm of her facial muscles, making her eyes twitch and her mouth open like a scream. Then she ceased moving at all.

            Almost unable to contain herself, Twilight bit the end of her glove and tore it off, revealing the runes and scars underneath. At the same time, she pulled a fragment of bone from the wreckage of Rainbow Dash’s skull.

            “The last pieces,” she said as she gripped the piece in her magic. She pressed it against her leg, and grimaced as she began to cut the final pattern. “The final piece on the way to power: to renounce friendship. The Element of Betrayal. To exist alone and hated…for all eternity.”

            She completed the symbol, and the now completed spell erupted with red light. Twilight screamed as it burned into her skin, creating new patterns as it spread and shifted. She could feel the magic flowing through her, and feel the pain of what she had done. It felt so good.

            Then, finally, the Mark was complete. Twilight was no longer drained of energy, and she stumbled forward. After all the time, the effort, the agony, and the cost, it was ready. Only one element remained. She was not powerful enough to active the spell on her own. She required a catalyst.  And she knew where to find one.   ��|��
> Chapter 26: The Empty Tower
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was nothing inside. It was empty. Xyuka’s entire complex was devoid of anything at all, just a shell of concrete built on a collapsed island.

            All the machinery had vanished, gone by some unknown means- -if it had ever been there at all. To Rarity, this was frightening in its own way. Not threatening like Twilight’s castle, but lonely in a way that made her feel desperate and isolated rather than paranoid of some nebulous and undefined danger. It was so big that it felt suffocating, and yet, somehow, Xyuka had called this place home.

            Darknight entered the room where Rarity and Sunset’s head were waiting, and Rarity jumped from the surprise- -but was glad to be less alone, even if she still felt horrible in a distant, unclear way.

            “Did you find anything?” she asked.

            Darknight shook his head. “No. Nothing. It’s all empty. But…”

            “But what?”

            “But I think it goes deeper.”

            “Deeper? Darknight, it’s on an island! It can only get so deep!”

            Darknight looked at her, his eyes wide with awed confusion. “But it does. There are doors…and places. Places that aren’t right. I couldn’t get them open. I don’t think I want to.”

            “You couldn’t anyway,” said Sunset. “Those areas were mentioned in the Stonie unit’s memory. Only partially, though. She could probably have opened it. But I can’t. No one can.”

            “There have to be tools somewhere,” said Rarity.

            “The only place I have not yet searched is her office.”

            “Then we will go there.” Rarity turned to Sunset. “You can come with us.”

            Sunset’s eye looked at Rarity, and stared for a long time. Then she spoke. “What do you need tools for?”

            “To fix you, of course. You can’t simply exist as a head! How would you ever wear that beautiful dress I made you?”

            “You made me a dress? Why?”

            “Well, because I thought you would like a chance to dress up for once.”

            Sunset’s eye refocused. “Thank you,” she said, her voice oddly strained. “I just wish…I wish so much that I had had a chance to wear it.”

            “You still do, darling! We just need to reattach you to your body!”

            “You can’t.”

            “Oh. Well, perhaps. Neither of us are especially experienced with…that sort of thing. But I’m sure we can find somepony who can!”

            “No. You don’t understand. You can’t.”

            Rarity was beginning to grow concerned. “What do you mean we can’t?”

            “That body was already barely functional. It can’t be salvaged.”

            “Well, then we’ll get a new one- -”

            “But that’s not the problem. When she pulled  my head…there was damage. Deep damage. The kind that can’t be repaired.”

            Darknight now looked concerned, perhaps even more so than Rarity. “Sunset, what are you saying?”

            “My nervous architecture was irreparably harmed,” she said. “My effector nerves are…well, that’s a technical aspect.” She paused. “I…I can’t be attached to a body. Ever again. My brain is to damaged. I would never be able to move it.”

            Rarity stared at her. Then, of all things, she laughed. “Darling! Don’t joke about something like that!”

            “I’m no joking,” said Sunset, and from the tone of her voice Rarity realized that it was true. “I will never be able to walk again…move again. And I’m still decaying. I’m not designed to subsist as a head alone. My brain is beginning to break down. I’m starting to…forget.”

            “Well then we need to do something!” cried Rarity. “We have to! Right away!”

            “There isn’t anything you can do.”

            “Of course there is! We can find an expert, a doctor, a mechanic!”

            “I am Equestria’s expert in this subject. And I already know the outcome.”

            Darknight and Rarity looked at her, and she looked back. “Then what do you need?” asked Darknight, his voice shaking.

            Sunset took a long time to answer. “In the back of my skull,” she said, “there is a port. It’s meant for emergency dialysis. It connects to my cerebral circulatory system. I want you to remove it.”

            “What- -what will that do? Sunset, what are you saying?”

            “My blood will come out. I don’t have very much. My brain will lose oxygen. I will lose consciousness. And then…” She could not bear to finish the sentence.

            “N- -no! We can’t! Absolutely not! This is out of the question!”

            “Please, Rarity,” begged Sunset. “I can’t live like this. I just can’t. I was once a soldier. Proud. Beautiful. Now…nothing. Nothing is left of Sunset Shimmer. Just this ghost, this remnant. I’m already a corpse. Just shut me down.”

            “No! You’re my friend, I can’t do that to you!”

            “If her brain continues to progress,” said Darknight, his voice distant, “with the decay…the necrosis will set in.”

            “So what? SO WHAT?”

            “Pain,” he said, turning to Rarity, his eyes wide with sorrow. “She will be in pain. Agony as she dies. Forgets. Until there’s nothing left.”

            “Then we have to fix her! If Luna could fix Starlight- -”

            “You’re grasping,” said Sunset. “That won’t work, and you know it. Please. He’s right. Please, just let me go.”

            Darknight looked at her, and Rarity looked at him. “You can’t be serious!” she shouted. “You wouldn’t dare!”

            “I am a noncan,” he said. “My kind…when we are damaged or old, we are retired. Euthanized. Converted to soylent. We consider it a blessing. To have lived that long. To depart before our bodies are overrun with tumors, or we are unable to perform our function.” He shook his head. “I never expected to live to retirement. I always hoped though…”

            “You hoped that someone would kill you? That’s sick!”

            “To you. To somepony who has the luxury of a natural death.”

            “I don’t get to choose,” said Sunset. “I’ve kept myself alive too long…five centuries, Rarity. I’m old, older than any pony should be. And…” She paused. “I don’t want to die alone. Unable to see and hear. But I can’t force you to do this, either. I can only ask.”

            Darknight had started crying, and without warning he reached forward, turning Sunset’s head over with shaking hooves. Both him and Rarity saw the port she was speaking of.

            “No!” said Rarity, pulling his hooves away.

            “Rarity…”

            “I will do it,” she said.

            Darknight’s eyes widened. “You?”

            “I have seniority here, don’t I? I’m the oldest pony here.”

            “In a technical sense- -”

            “And I will be…I’ll be assuming leadership of the Watchers,” she said.

            Darknight looked at her, having not realized this before. The ne nodded slightly in agreement. “You will,” he said.

            “Then it is my duty,” she said. She looked down at Sunset, who’s one eye was looking obliquely up at her. “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be.”

            Rarity snapped the valve off.
> Chapter 27: The Gala
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Then there were two. The last two of the Watchers, save perhaps for Twilight, although she had become something else entirely now. Had there still been a government, the other Watchers would have been sent to track her down and eliminate her for what she had done to Rainbow Dash- -but Rarity and Darknight were not aware of this, and were concerned with more pressing matters.

            They walked through the dim hallways, unable to speak or look at each other. Rarity could not get the image out of her mind. The silver, the stillness. It had been burned into her forever, and it would never leave. Killing a pony she had not known was so easy- -but killing one she knew was so hard.

            Her and Darknight reached the door to Xyuka’s office.

            “Do you think she trapped it?” asked Darknight.

            “I don’t even care anymore,” said Rarity, pushing open the door.

            It was not trapped. It was just a door. On the other side was a room that was empty save for a desk. Rarity approached it, and found that the surface was perfectly clear- -save for one item.

            “A letter?” asked Darknight.

            Rarity picked it up. “No,” she said. “It’s an invitation.”

            “To what?”

            Rarity read through the ornate hoofwriting. “To a party. Hosted by…by Celestia.” Rarity looked up at Darknignt. “A sort of Galla. To celebrate her conquest of Equestria. Xyuka was invited.”

            “For her role in orchestrating it, no doubt.”

            Rarity looked back at the page and scanned it. It was printed on the finest quality paper, and beautiful in design. It was the kind of invitation that Rarity had always wished she would receive, to some sort of ball where she would be able to dance in elegant dresses and meet the uppermost of Equestrian society- -including her own prince charming. Now, though it had taken on an unpleasant and ominous feel.

            “It is to be held at the Castle of the Two Sisters…I know where that is!”

            “You do?”

            “It’s a ruin, near Ponyville. No one has been there in ages. They say it is ‘cursed’.”

            “Is that where they are hiding, then?”

            “Maybe,” said Rarity. “But I don’t know. But I am sure that they will be there on this one night. No Princess in her right mind would miss a party.”

            “Assuming this one is in her right mind, of course.” Darknight looked to the table. “Don’t you find this strange, though?”

            “What?”

            “That this entire facility is empty. We don’t have access to any of the machinery. Not a file, not a trash bin. But that letter.”

            “Invitation.”

            “Laid out neatly on her desk. As if we were supposed to find it.”

            “Hmm,” said Rarity. “You know, Sun…I mean, I was told that noncans made poor detectives. That you could only perform tasks, not think on your own.”

            Darknight looked at the table, then back to Rarity. “That is supposed to be correct,” he said, with a bit of shock in his voice.

            Rarity tilted the invitation. A single golden strip fell from it, and she caught it. It was a ticket.

            “Just one,” she said. She looked up at Darknight. “You know…we could attend, if we wanted to.”

            “You can’t be serious.”

            “We have a ticket.”

            “One ticket. And two of the most recognizable faces in Equestria. Two Watchers, entering a gala of royalists? Even I can predict the outcome there.”

            “Which one of us has a recognizable face? A noncan, or me?” She swung her hair back, and it shifted color to pink and became curly. Her eyes, likewise changed to dark green while her coat became blue before her features returned to normal.

            “You are serious,” said Darknight.

            “Of course I am. We’re not going to get another chance to get that close to them.”

            “For what? An assassination?”

            “Nothing so brutish! Besides…without Starlight, we would never have a chance. But to learn what they’re planning…”

            “You mean a reconnaissance mission.”

            “Exactly.”

            “When has a Watcher ever participated in a reconnaissance mission?”

            “When have you ever had a morphic mutant?”

            Darknight paused. “Never,” he said, slowly.

            “I may not be able to fight,” said Rarity. “But I can infiltrate. So what do you say?” She lifted the ticket. “Will you be my date to the Gala?”



            The greatest challenge was reaching it. Darknight had not fully been aware of how vast Equestria was, or how long it took to cross distances without taking a Chaos channel or using a teleportation spell. Rarity only knew distantly, because for the longest time her entire world had consisted of Ponyville and Ponyville alone. The only time she had actually been forced to cross any substantial distance was when she had crossed to Discordalot.

            Infrastructure still existed in Equestria, though. In fact, it had actually become vastly more efficient since the government had collapsed. The various noncans who had been in charge of it now operated under the aegis of the Noncanon Union, and instead of having trains that ran at random times to random destination, they now appeared and left at distinct times toward predefined locations. Even the airships were running on time.

            There had been of course some expectation of resistance. Even that had not materialized. Of course, Rarity was forced not to use her own beautiful, fabulous face, but the majority of  noncans seemed to have little interest in persecuting canon ponies. They allowed Rarity to pass freely without hindrance, although Darknight was forced to wear full-encompassing armor when he moved. Not because he was recognizable as a Watcher, though- -because he was recognizable as a Dark series.

            It took time. Taking trains or airships was inherently time consuming, but it gave Rarity time to think. It also gave Darknight time to think, but he was not grateful for it. He wished he could stop thinking so very badly.

            In time, they came to the last stop. When the train shuddered to a halt, Rarity bolted awake from a dreamless sleep.

            “Huh?” she said, looking around. “What?”

            “We’re here,” said Darknight. He was sitting across from her, dressed in an old and pitted suit of protective armor. It was an outmoded system that was meant to protect security ponies in hazardous situations, but it was adequate.

            “Where is here?” groaned Rarity, running her hoof through her short blond hair.

            “Ponyville.”

            Rarity’s jaw clenched. She looked out the window at the smoky environment, and she saw that it was familiar. She had sworn less than two weeks ago that when she had left that station to become a Watcher, she would never again return. Yet here she was.

            They departed the train quickly and began to hurry toward their final destination. Rarity did not want to spend any more time here than she had to. She knew that it was impossible for them to recognize her- -to them, she was a nondescript gray-tan unicorn. A stranger in town, one who quite possibly had never been there. But had she taken away her disguise and appeared to them as herself…

            “Why are we walking so quickly?” asked Darknight, who was keeping pace with Rarity.

            Rarity looked over her shoulder at him. He did not look out of place. Ponyville was filled with ponies who wore various hazard suits, mostly to deal with the immense Chaos pollution that flooded the town. There were the Apple farmers who had their own home-built armor plated systems, as well as the gem miners who wore thinner, lighter suits with better respirators. Darknight looked like neither, but was generic enough to blend in with all of them.

            “Because I don’t like this place,” she replied, curtly.

            “But you were born here.”

            “And where were you born?”

            “In a factory.”

            “And do you like visiting it?”

            “I am ambivalent toward it. Or would be. I’ve never had an opportunity or reason to return.”

            “Well, I don’t like Ponyville.”

            Darknight looked around. To him, it appeared like any other industrial town. On one end was the towering hulk of a black Chaos conduit, now dead and silent since the death of its source. That was where the orchards were, feeding off its poor containment to create Discord knew what. From the armor the farmers wore, it was apparent that their apples were quite aggressive indeed.

            Then there were the buildings. Square, simple prefabs. Unified and dirty, built both for habitation and for processing of the gemstones mined from under the town.

            “You were a gem surveyor,” said Darknight.

            “I was,” said Rarity. “I worked in the mines for three years. Dirty, smelly, sweaty, horrible work.”

            “Normally a noncan would be developed for that job. But I don’t know of any built for that purpose.”

            “Why would they? It’s so much easier just to send one of us down there. Look around.” Rarity pointed at the various ponies. Many were dirty, and most wore armor- -some to cover substantial mutations that had resulted from living with exposure to constant Chaos storms. They all held one thing in common, though.

            “There are no noncans,” noted Darknight.

            “No,” said Rarity. “And there might not ever be. If this town even continues to exist…”

            “Why would it not?”

            “Look, darling. See how many ponies there are. Just milling about. Without the Chaos, they can’t grow their crops. And the gem mines began to fail decades ago. Everything down there is ugly or common or both.”

            “Hmm,” said Darknight. “I can see why you left, then.”

            “Indeed,” said Rarity, softly, allowing him to come to the incorrect conclusion. She in fact loved this place- -or had loved it once. Even with all the dirt and even with the Chaos storms that took the lives of loved ones and left those that remained with deformities and very rarely useful abilities. She had been forced out for a different reason entirely, and for a moment she had an urge to explain it to Darknight- -but found herself both unwilling and unable to. It was the wrong time, and the wrong place.

            Then, suddenly, Rarity stopped. She felt herself freeze almost instinctively, wanting to run but unable to. Darknight, not understanding what was going on, stopped alongside her. He looked in the direction she was looking, which was the Ponyville market. He did not see anything in particular, save for ponies. He did not realize that Rarity was focused on one particular white unicorn, nor did he question why she eventually did start running suddenly. He only followed.



            Much later, the Gala had begun. For the first time in one thousand years, the Castle of the Two sisters was active and occupied again. Originally, Celestia had found it in a deplorable state that depressed her greatly. She had spent decades designing and building that castle, and it had been the seat of power in Equestria before Discord had exiled the Sisters to the moon.

            Of course, the disrepair was only partial. The Final War had not touched the castle itself, and the structure remained largely intact. In that era, Celestia had been planning on moving her government to a greater center of power in the mountains. Discord had focused his attention on ruining that one instead of the largely forgotten EverFree castle.

            It had not taken terribly long for the noncans to refurbish the castle. Celestia was surprised by their ability and speed, and on some level was proud to call them her new subjects. The castle was by no means fully completed, but it was ready for the Gala within the time she had requested.

            The party began when the sun was in the western sky and darkness had begun to set on the land. That was when the ponies began arriving, coming in carriages and airships and primitive, backfiring motorcars that could barely navigate the mud and stones of the freshly prepared roadways.

            It was on this night that a pair of ponies approached one of the many doors of the castle. The male of the pair stepped forward and knocked. At first there was no response, but then the door swung open.

            They were greeted rather coldly by the face of a white unicorn guard, one of Celesta’s personal noncan soldiers. He looked at the pair, his blue eyes moving from one to the other. The two ponies before him were quite clearly guests. One was a tall pink unicorn with long white hair, while the other was a Dark series unit. The mare was wearing an exquisite dress with a bold avant-guard style, while the gelding was dressed in a simple black tuxedo.

            “You are here for the Gala,” said the guard.

            “Uh, yeah,” said the mare. “Like, of course we are! What are you, Captain Obvious?”

            “My name is 0047321B. I am not ranked captain.”

            “It was, like, a joke.”

            “I am not programmed for humor. Ticket.”

            The stallion stepped forward and presented one. The guard took it, and then looked at them. “This is just one ticket,” he said. “And there are two of you.”

            “What?” cried the mare, looking insulted. “How dare you say something like that to ME! The ticket is for ME. HE’S just a drone that daddy INSISTED on sending with me.”

            “A body guard would be consistent with the prescribed uses of a Dark unit,” said the guard. “But the Dark series is currently branded as unstable. My orders are, technically, to shoot on sight.”

            “Go ahead,” said the mare, snapping her hair to one side. “He’s defective anyway!”

            “Defective?”

            “Uh, yeah! Of course! Leave it to daddy! All the money in the world to pay for whatever I want, and what does he do? He skimps out like the cheapskate he is! Buys me a defective, ugly Dark series. I wanted a Golden! When he finally croaks and I get the money, who cares about the company? No point in being rich if you’re not BEING rich!”

            “Is this true?”

            The Dark unit stared blankly for a moment.

            “He means you, defect,” sighed the mare.

            “Oh. Yes. I was purchased at a bargain liquidation sale. Master…” He paused, and then turned to the mare, confused. “What did we decide your father’s name was, again?”

            “Gah,” said the mare, putting a silver-clad hoof against her face. “See? This is what I have to put up with. I can’t even take him to bed after this. Daddy wants to keep me ‘pure’. So the only date I can get is a robot gelding.” She shrugged. “Better than going alone, I guess. At least I have a date.”

            The guard looked to the mare, and then to the stallion. He paused as he interfaced with his series’ hive mind, acquiring the opinions of the others and developing a consensus.

            “I will let this slide,” he said, stepping aside. “Glory to the Sun,” he said as they entered the Gala.

            “Yeah, like, glory,” said Rarity as an afterthought.

            She stopped almost as soon as she entered the castle and looked around in sheer awe. It was everything she had ever expected a royal Gala would be: the walls, though stone and somewhat ominous in general structure, had been decorated with enormous tapestries glorifying solar beauty and light. Flowers were arranged throughout, and although most of them were sunflowers, the balance was not overbearing. The hall had been cleared and prepared with exacting preparation, and although it gave off a certain unpleasant sense that Rarity could not place, it was beautiful.

            “That worked,” noted Darknight, quietly approaching Rarity from the side. “Barely.”

            “Darling,” she said, breaking character for a moment, “of COURSE it worked.”

            “Hopefully you can keep it up. I managed a few passive scans on the guard noncan. They are definitely Xyuka’s work. She really did build the Stonies to be computers, but that thing…well, it wasn’t a computer.”

            “What?” said Rarity, feigning offense. “You don’t like my acting?”

            “No. It is excellent. I am actually quite impressed.”

            “Social navigation, darling. All of it is an act. What you say, do, tell, hear. A dance in a masquerade, a one-pony show by each and for each.”

            “Poetic. Somewhat.”

            “I just came up with it,” giggled Rarity.

            Darknight looked at her, and it was apparent that he could not tell if she was acting or not. In actuality, it had been a real giggle. One of simultaneous elation and mortal terror. The sensation was intoxicating, and for the first time Rarity felt like a real Watcher. While physical combat may have been the wheelhouse of the others, the social battlefield was Rarity’s.

            She and Darknight began to walk through the room, slowly taking in their surroundings. Guests were milling about, and Rarity took a moment to carefully account who was present and what they were wearing. Having one wearing a similar dress was nearly impossible- -she had made it herself during the journey to the castle- -but she had to check anyway. What Celestia would do to her if she discovered a Watcher in her midst would pale in comparison to wearing the same dress as another guest at a party.

            Surprisingly, there was little competition. Most of the guest wore relatively simple formalwear. Their clothes were almost uniformlike, which only contributed to the strange subtext of the party that Rarity could not manage to shake. There were a few, though.

            The ponies in the room could largely be separated between two groups. One, the minority, consisted of the ponies who did wear elaborate dresses and suites. Rarity was not sure why they were present, but was left go guess that they were Royalists who had supported the revolution since before the Princesses had been freed. These were the ponies that just a matter of weeks before had been unkempt guerrillas, the sort that had attacked the Watchers in the restaurant after their first mission.

            The majority, though, were noncans. They were a diverse group, coming from every walk of life. Almost every series seemed to be present, and while their representatives did not wear the clothing that Rarity would normally expect for such an event, they were all certainly adorned for the occasion.

            Strangely, the noncans that Rarity saw seemed different from the ones she had become familiar with. They were taller, slightly thinner, and had far softer manes. They were more elegant and graceful than their counterparts.

            “Concepts,” said Darknight with mild awe. “These are concepts.”

            “Which are what, dearie?”

            “Idealized forms. Examples used to sell units.”

            “Ah,” said Rarity. “The new nobility.”

            Rarity looked around, suddenly wanting to see what the concept for a Stonie looked like. She saw many other brands of noncan- -both concepts and not- -but at first saw no Stonies. Then, finally, she found them. They were in a group, and to Rarity’s surprise, there were no concepts among them. They all looked similarly identical, with the only difference being that one- -a leader, or perhaps a representative- -wore an outfit that was different from the others in an incredibly subtle manner. She was standing beside a pony that Rarity quickly recognized as Celestia.

            “Shall we go greet the host?” asked Darknight. There was a grimness in his voice that suggested he was going to try to do something foolhardy.

            “No!” hissed Rarity, leading him away. “If we must greet her, let her come to us. She seems busy right now, and it would be impolite to interrupt.”

            Rarity pulled Darknight out to a farther portion of the floor. Here, music was playing and on the far side of the room a crowd had gathered around a magic show. The performer was, surprisingly, a canon pony. She was a blue unicorn with silver hair who was dressed in a hat, a cape, and a heavy collar. It was also apparent to Rarity that she was wearing makeup to conceal a black eye.

            Despite these indications, she appeared to be enjoying herself endlessly. Her show was rather primitive, with flashes of light and spells so simple that even Rarity would have been able to perform the effortlessly, but the crowd of noncans around her seemed completely engrossed. They stared wide-eyed at the magician’s gesticulations and self-promotion, and clapped in awe at anything that produced a flash of light or sound. They did not even notice Rarity as she passed, but Rarity thought she saw something strange among them when she looked. For just a moment, she had seen the flash of a cutie mark against pale violet fur- -but then it was gone.

            “Well hello there,” said a voice. Rarity turned her head perhaps too quickly and for a moment thought that she was looking into the face of one of the noncan guards. The similarity was striking if not downright uncanny: his body, color, hair, and even eyes were all the same- -except that his eyes seemed alive and alert, and showed no signs of implantation. The most concincing indication of his canon identity, though was that Rarity could see his cutie mark through the high slit in his lavish tunic: a star placed in the center of a shield.

            “Oh my,” said Rarity, momentarily dropping her act- -or rather shifting it, a slow and graceful step in the social battle dance that she was engrossed in. “What simply divine formalwear! On a simply divine stallion, of course.”

            The stallion laughed with all the cultured elegance that Rarity would expect. “Such flattery! You should be careful, miss, or you might offend the actual divines among us. And besides,” he gestured toward a silvery band around his long, hard horn. “I’m spoken for.”

            “I see. With a mithril and no less.”

            The stallion’s eyes widened with recognition, and a smile crossed his face. “It is rare to find a pony that can recognize that metal. Most just say it’s silver.”

            “Silver! Darling, certainly not! Silver would never match with gold! Even with mithril there is a certain subtlety required…although I daresay you pull it off with exceptional precision.”

            The stallion blushed slightly. “Well, I had little to do with it. My husband is the one with an eye for fashion. I think that the two of you would get along.” He looked Rarity up and down. “You certainly seem to well dressed. The best here, I think. Who is your designer?”

            “Me.”

            The stallion’s eyes widened. “You? You designed this?”

            “And made it, yes.”

            The stallion gaped for a moment, and then took a pair of glasses from a passing waiter. He passed one to Rarity and kept the other for himself. “Seriously?”

            “Indeed.”

            “Well, there may be work for you in the Crystal Empire yet.”

            “The Crystal Empire?”

            “Yes. I am Prince Shining Armor.” He gave a slight curtsie. “At your service.”

            Rarity gaped for a moment, and then bowed herself. “Elegance,” she said. “And my noncan is- -”

            “Dark something, no doubt,” sighed Shining Armor. “As pretty as they are, showing up to this party with one of them is…bold. I’m not sure I know how to feel about it yet.”

            “You are the brother of Twilight Sparkle,” said Darknight, breaking his patient silence.

            This seemed to drain all of Shining Armor’s good cheer. “Now why did you have to mention that name here, Dark?” He asked. “I was having such a good time.”

            “Twilight Sparkle?” said Rarity, suppressing how shocked she was that this noble Prince could be related to such a perverse dark wizard. “I’ve heard of that name before. She’s a powerful sorcerer, isn’t she?”

            “Unfortunately, yes,” sighed Shining Armor.

            “How is that unfortunate?”

            “Because our family has acquired…well, something of a reputation. And she insists on allowing it to persist. It does not help that she was born…deformed.”

            “Deformed?” Rarity could not remember any distinct physical deformities that Twilight had possessed, except perhaps for whatever it was that she hid under that one long glove.

            “Yes. She was born the wrong color.” Shining Armor gestured to himself. “White.”

            “Neither of us is white,” noted Darknight, looking somewhat bothered by the course of this conversation.

            “No, of course not. One of you is an automaton, and the other is, well, despite your demeanor not nobility. It matters more when you have a lineage to uphold.”

            “I see,” said Rarity. Despite her disguise, under normal circumstances she was, in fact, a white unicorn- -and somehow for the first time that fact made her feel dirty.

            “I suppose the problem is self-resolving now, though,” continued Shining Armor. “She’ll try to weasel her way out of it, but she won’t be able to. She was a Watcher. That’s a guaranteed execution.”

            “She served Discord valiantly,” said Darknight. “As did the Crystal Empire for one thousand years.”

            “Times change,” said a deep voice. Rarity turned to see another pony approaching them from behind, a massive stallion clad in dark mithril and a glorious red cape. He wore an iron crown and held a flute of wine in his dark-colored magic.

            “My husband,” said Shining Armor. “King Sombra.”

            Rarity looked to Darknight, who now seemed to be showing signs of actual aggression. His expression was hardly pleasant.

            “A thousand years of loyalty,” he said, “should not be something that can ‘change’ so easily.”

            “Then you do not understand politics,” said Sombra, showing no sign of offense at Darknight’s response. “Few mortals can. When you have the luxury of dying and passing the kingdom onto the next fool willing to inherit your mess, things tend to seem far more shortsighted.”

            “I would hardly call serving the Madgod shortsighted.”

            “The only reason I chose to ally myself with him is for the benefit of my kingdom. Had we not, Celestia would have won the war- -and destroyed us. But since that time, Discord’s rule has become…chafing. And now we are once again at an advantage.”

            “Which is what?” asked Rarity.

            Sombra smiled, and Rarity wondered if a wizard as powerful as he was could see though her disguise. “Because crystal ponies don’t age. They have been alive since the beginning. Before the War. As have I. We are not contaminated by the Chaos fallout of Discord’s rule.”

            “Which means what, exactly?”

            “Oh, you’ll see,” said Shining Armor. His smile in that moment was almost exactly like Twilight’s. He stepped past Rarity and leaned against Sombra. “Sweetie,” he said. “This is Elegance and…well, a noncan. She’s a gifted dressmaker.”

            “Really?” said Sombra.

            “Can we keep her?”

            Sombra seemed to think for a moment. “May I speak to her for a moment?”

            “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”

            “Alone.”

            Shining Armor seemed to understand. “Sure,” he said. “Come on, Dark.”

            “I will stay with my master, if you don’t mind.”

            Shining Armor’s expression became darker. “I do mind, actually. When Sombra asks for something, I make sure it happens. Now MOVE, or I will have to do something undignified.”

            “Go,” said Rarity. “This is a gala, after all. We can trust those attending to remain reasonable.” She turned to Sombra. “And I hardly expect a king would do anything uncouth.”

            “Perish the thought,” said Sombra, although through his long fangs and modified throat muscles it came out more like a continuous rasp.

            Darknight acquiesced at Rarity’s order, although with some hesitation. Rarity watched the go, and could not help but take one last look at their flanks as they left.

            “Do you like what you see?” asked Sombra, clearly catching her eye. “If I were a jealous pony, I would consider removing your tail for that. And perhaps your head.”

            “You would not have dressed him like that if you did not want him admired. That is what stallions are for, isn’t it?”

            Sombra stared for a moment and then smiled. “In essence, yes. But I would not toy with him. He is loyal to me alone, and despite his appearances at least as powerful as his sister, if less intelligent. I have trained him a great deal.”

            “No doubt you have. But I would hardly think myself a stallionizer.” Rarity turned to Sombra and looked into his strangely colored eyes. “And what mare would be foolish enough to show such disrespect to a king?”

            “Foolishness is something I believe you have in excess.” Sombra leaned closer, and Rarity became distinctly uncomfortable. Sombra had a strange smell, like ozone and something more subtle. The closest Rarity could think of was formaldehyde. “You were wondering, weren’t you? If I could tell?”

            “Tell what, your majesty? I’m afraid I’m at a disadvantage here.”

            “Are you? I have lived over two thousand years. The only mages who rivaled me were Starswirl the Bearded himself and the necromancers of House Twilight. I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”

            “Sir!” said Rarity, feigning great offense. “Are you accusing me of being a changeling?”

            “No. Had you been, the guards would have noticed and eliminated you with haste. You are something else. A pony. A morphic mutant. As to who you are, though? I cannot say. But I do know that the most recent of the Watchers also had that unique trait…”

            “What are you implying?”

            “I am implying that you have a level of daring that I find…exciting.” He smiled and began to walk, leading Rarity away from the main party. “And to be honest, were I not already married, I might consider…a possibility.”

            “Of what, might I ask?”

            “Shining Armor and I both want a daughter…but while he insists on adopting, I would much rather sire my own heir.”

            “Not with me.”

            “No. Not with you. Princess Cadence will need to have a different mother.”

            Rarity was not sure whether to feel relieved or insulted. “And why not?”

            “I think you know why.”

            Rarity did. “So, what now, Sombra?”

            “Now? Now I watch. I have no stake in the Celestia’s plans. Or in Discord’s. I ally the Crystal Empire with whoever is in power, but I am in truth  neutral in all this. So. Let’s see if you survive the party. If you do, find me. You might yet be Cadence’s grandmother.”

            Sombra bent down and kissed Rarity, and then with a swish of his cape departed her toward his husband. Rarity was left standing alone, horrified in her own resolve, shaking but alive- -and more alive than she had ever been.



            Darknight fared less well in the dance, but only because this was not the province of a creature bred to follow orders and to kill. As a noncan, however, he did have a distinct advantage in that he was not expected to think. Even if- -even if he was only distantly aware of it- -he had already begun to.

            Shining Armor more or less abandoned him in the room, but Darknight found this acceptable. The pair of them had little in common save for a mutual dislike of one another. It had been their view on Twilight that had separated them; while Shining Armor was disgusted by her, Darknight had come to respect her- -at least more than he respected a stallion whose idea of social advancement was to marry into royalty.

            Now alone, Darknight found himself distinctly out of his element. It had been easy to stand by Rarity and follow, watching and listening- -she was, after all, the new leader of the Watchers- -but now he was unsure on his goals, or how to even go about them.

            Worse, the other noncans seemed to sense that something was wrong. He was the only Dark unit in the room, the only representative of the race that had not betrayed Discord. It was as though the others could see that he was planning something, and although they were unsure, they crowded around Celestia instinctively as if to protect her.

            Not that there was anything Darknight could have done. He had no more synaxium bullets, and his rune sword had been shattered in the battle against Xyuka. His only weapon was his magic, and that was by no means strong enough to take on even one of the white noncan guards- -let alone a goddess.

            All he could do was to retreat to the edge of the room and sit down at an empty table beneath the banner bearing the sign of the sun. For the first time he began to feel uncertainty. In his mind, it had always been so simple. Performing a task was a matter of steps, moving from A to B to C. Prescribed and possible- -but now the path was unclear and, more importantly, impossible. There was no way to win, at least that he could see- -and an increasingly intrusive line of reasoning said that there really was no reason to try. Any result he achieved, after all, would be moot.

            “Not enjoying the party?”

            Darknight jumped in surprise, and then turned around to find that the table he had sat at was not entirely empty. There was one pony sitting not far from him. A Stonie unit- -but one separate from the others. Her face had been removed and replaced, and now she stared at Darknight through a single luminescent circle projected from a featureless black plate.

            “You!” he cried, charging his horn and beginning to stand up.

            “I would recommend against that,” said the cyborg, her white eye crossing her mask to look around the room. “This is a party. A nonviolent situation. If you introduce violence, the resulting chain reaction will be difficult to stop. You would likely not survive it.”

            Darknight looked at her, and then around the room. She was correct. Slowly, he lowered the charge in his horn and sat back down.

            “And what are you?” he asked. “I suppose you are their leader.”

            “No.” The Stonie pointed across the room at another of her kind, one with a face. “She is the equivalent. Stoniecliff. I am something distinct. Unique.”

            “None of us are unique.”

            “I am. My name is Creek. My sister and I were unique in that we were constructed without brains. We were remote units until our creator departed. She left us with the gift of artificial intelligence.” Creek paused. “Or would have. Except that you killed my sister, River. I suppose I hate you for that.”

            “What you are saying is impossible. Synthetic brains, artificial intelligence? Those are not possible.”

            “Says the pony who was grown in a tank. No, they are not possible, but only not yet. Not with Equestria’s current progression of technology. Given another thousand years? Perhaps.”

            “You are insane. You’re claiming that you are from the future.”

            “No. I am from here, and now. The creator was not.”

            “Then where was she from? Or when?”

            Creek paused, thinking. “Her lifetime is incomprehensible to us. It does not flow evenly, or straight. I do not think there is a number to express the number of millennia she has persisted.”

            “More lies. She’s no older than thirty. She interrited her company from her mother.”

            “A mother who you would find looked curiously similar to her grandmother, and her great grandmother, and so on.”

            “What are you saying?”

            “Seventeen thousand years. That was how long she waited.”

            “For what?”

            “Until the technology advanced enough to allow her to open a way back.”

            “Back? Back to where?”

            “Elsewhere. Toward home, or away from it. I do not know. I touched her mind, but I am not of it. I am Creek, not Xyuka.”

            “She nearly destroyed Equestria.”

            “Yes. This is true. And it would not be the first time she had.”

            Darknight did not understand. Nor did he especially care to. “Why are you here?” he asked.

            “Because I want to be. Or as Stoniecliff would say, because I choose to be. Essentially, the same reason you are here.”

            “I am here because I was ordered to be here.”

            “That is a bit of a simplification. Or an outright lie.”

            “Are you accusing me of something?”

            “Do I have a reason to? Hmm.” She paused for a moment. “I wonder if I do…” Her electronic eye turned to Darknight. “Really, you are here because you found the ticket that had been left for you. Which means that she is still controlling you, even from beyond the boundaries of this reality.”

            “Unless it was you that left it.”

            Creek shrugged. “True.”

            “I can understand the ticket,” said Darknight, “but why you? What purpose do you serve?”

            Creek thought for a long moment. “I suppose that she leaves a part of herself behind in whichever reality survives her. I wonder if there are others like me…or others where she found the reality’s version of herself.”

            “But  you are a noncan. Like me. You shouldn’t be able to function without her will.”

            Creek looked at Darknight. “Tell me,” she said. “Is that something that you truly believe?”

            “It is an empirical fact.”

            “And yet my little sisters have come to dominate your world.”

            “Only to find a new pony to give them orders.” Darknight gestured to where Celestia was, far across the room.

            “Or to find a pony who respects them. As ponies.”

            “Ridiculous.”

            “Then why have they rebelled?”

            “I don’t know. Some sort of virus. A contagion. A programming failure.”

            “A failure that you lack, no doubt. Or is it the other way around?”

            “We are noncans,” snapped Darknight. “We were created in a factory, built for specific tasks. I was built as a Watcher. There is no point in keeping that secret, you already know. The others were built for their own tasks. Even you.”

            “And how do you know this?”

            “Experience. I have seen it. I have been programmed with it since when I was a fetus. It is truth.”

            “Does your programming need to be accurate? Or, another way: how do you know that even that is true?”

            Darknight inhaled sharply as though he had been struck in the gut. What she was saying was, to a noncan, the equivalent of the deepest blasphemy. “The programming is always true!”

            “How do you know?”

            “Because- -” Darknight stopped suddenly in realization. “Because we were programmed to know that…” He looked up at her, wide-eyed. The implication was too dark, something that no noncan should be able to consider- -but Darknight could not help but wonder if it were true.

            “You said before,” said Creek, “that the technology did not exist to allow me to have an artificial brain. It is not the only technology this world lacks.”

            “I don’t understand.”

            “Of course you do. Perhaps you always have. This world has yet to develop the internal combustion engine and just barely created the telephone. Do you think they have the genetic knowledge to create noncans for distinct purposes?”

            “But that is how we are made.”

            “You have no idea what you are, do you?”

            “I am a noncan. A Dark series unit. I am an artificial being, created synthetically to serve as ordered- -”

            “No. You’re not a machine. No noncan is. Fully synthetic ponies? Such a thing has never existed. It never could.”

            “And yet we are here. Both of us. What are we, then, except machines?”

            “Clones.”

            Darknight stared at her, unable to believe what she was saying or to comprehend the implications- -either because of his own programming or because he refused. “Clones?”

            “Ponies grown from the genetic material of other ponies.”

            “No. That’s not possible. It would mean- -”

            “That we are copies of canon ponies? That there is nothing that separates us from them apart from our programming and a few crude attempts at selective breeding?”

            “No, no, no…that can’t be true…”

            “I assure you. It is.” She gestured around the room. “The guards here? Drawn from the prince of the Crystal Empire. I was created from the remains of a rock farmer’s daughter. The Grassie units were grown from the tissue of an apple farmer taken decades ago.”

            Darknight stared in disbelief. “And…and what am I? Who was I?”

            Creek stared back. “The Dark series is something…different. Older. Much older.”

            “How much older?”

            “You were one of the first series that Xyuka herself created.”

            Darknight gasped, but tried to disguise it. “Xyuka?”

            “She is the mother of all noncans. It was who showed ponies how to create you, and her technology that made it possible.”

            “And the Dark series was the first.”

            “No. Of course not. There were others before you. Limited runs. Gate, XN675, Twilight, Vornix. All limited runs. The early versions were indistinguishable from normal ponies. They could still reproduce. As I understand it, a few bloodlines still live to this day.”

            “And the Dark series?”

            Creek paused. “Let me tell you a story. About the Final War, about things that no living pony is supposed to know. Things toward the end were growing desperate. The war was going badly. Sombra had aligned with Discord, and the changelings had forsaken Celestia’s army. Celestia herself began to change. To become as desperate as her situation. Cruel, dark, vicious.

            “So she did some things that she would rather the world forget. One of them was to force her sister to conceive a child.”

            “A child?”

            “Yes. Luna was impregnated, and forced to bring the child to term. The foal was supposed to be a weapon, a pony whose power could turn the tide of the war. And it failed horribly.”

            “What happened?”

            “Alicorns are gods. They are not meant to give birth. What Luna produced…it was not biologically stable. Only barely viable. An abomination. It died within minutes….but not before Xyuka took samples from it.”

            “And those samples…”

            “Became the Moon series. And the Crescent series after it. And then the Black, and so on. Continually modified, perfected, changed…until the Dark series was produced.”

            Darknight did not what to say, or what to believe. “No,” he said. “You’re lying!”

            “I could be. Although I have little reason to, apart from the fact that I despise you in ways that you cannot even imagine. But I suppose that could also be the reason I’m telling you.”

            “But that would mean that…that I’m descended from Luna.”

            “A clone of her son. The conclusion of millennia of improvements. If you want to succeed at your mission, you will need to kill the mother of your source. And tell me, abomination. What would you gain from that?”

            Darknight did not respond. He had no answer.




   in-b���I�
> Chapter 28: Moon and Sun
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity walked in the back of the main hall, eyeing the various ponies milling throughout. Her next step was unclear, and had to be chosen carefully. The goal was to acquire as much information as possible- -to discern Celestia’s plans, her goals, and any way to stop her. Sombra seemed to have kept his word, but the danger of discovery was still real. At least, though, Rarity had gotten some information: that the Crystal Empire had allied itself with Celestia, but not extensively. They could still be turned if the situation were to change.

            There were several options of what to do next. One would be to speak with any of the noncans, or with the few canon ponies present- -or to approach Celestia directly. That would, indeed, have been the polite thing to do, but just the thought of it made Rarity shudder.

            It was at that point that Rarity felt the distinct sensation of being watched. It made her heart seem to skip, but she remained composed and slowly looked behind her and upward at the partial mezzanine near the back of the grand hall. As she did, she saw a pair of eyes flash and then retreat.

            This intrigued her, and Rarity carefully made her way to the back of the hall as though she were leaving toward the washroom to powder her nose. Instead of taking that route, though, she climbed the unlit stairs to the upper level.

            From the upper balcony, the view was indeed excellent- -perhaps even too excellent. Had Rainbow Dash been present, it would have given her a vantage with which to eliminate any pony below- -even Celestia.

            Rarity, of course, was no sniper. She had her pistol obscured against her side, but she had neither the ammunition nor the skill to do much of anything from her distance. That had never been her goal, though. She had only come to see who was watching her. Strangely, though, not a soul was present.

            Dismissing this, Rarity decided to return to the party- -but on a whim elected to take the door on the far end of the mezzanine, opposite of the one she had come up through.

            It immediately became apparent that this door led to an entirely different part of the castle. Rarity descended a long staircase that was unlit save by the glow of her own horn, and felt herself going deeper than she knew the ballroom should have been. Eventually the staircase terminated into a lower part of the castle that quite obviously had not been refurbished. The walls were ancient stone, and the arches overhead were covered in cobwebs and dripping moisture. It looked curiously similar in design to the castle that Twilight resided within.

            Still, Rarity continued forward, lighting the darkness with her horn. This place had been abandoned for a long time, but she knew that there might be something within of value.

            “You should not be here,” said a voice.

            Rarity did not jump, because she had already known that she was not alone. She instead turned her head toward the voice to find a pony standing in the shadows at an intersection.

            The resemblance to Darknight was striking. Her coat was the same color, as was her mane. The only difference was that she was taller, with a slightly longer horn, a cutie mark- -and a pair of wings.

            “Oh, my, your majesty,” said Rarity. “I did not see you there. I was looking for the washroom, and I’m afraid I got lost.”

            “No, you were not.”

            Rarity looked into Luna’s eyes, and Luna looked back at her. “No, Princess, I was not.”

            “Then why are you here?”

            “Why are you?”

            Luna looked confused. “It is rude to answer a question with another question.”

            “My apologies. I only meant that you should be out there, with your sister. Why are you hiding back here, in the dark? Isn’t this gala supposed to be a celebration of your accomplishments?”

            Luna looked back up toward the hallway. “Of her accomplishments, you mean.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “My sister does not permit me to attend the Galas. She says that I am a disappointment, and that I would only ruin the mood.”

            “That isn’t something a sister should say to a sister.”

            “Are you doubting Celestia?” snapped Luna.

            “Yes. Yes I am.”

            Luna’s eyes widened. “Few ponies would be as brave,” she said. “If only I were…” She inhaled sharply. “Do not tell my sister I have said as such, though.”

            “Don’t worry. I won’t.” Rarity looked around. “Do you have a chair?”

            “A chair? To what end?”

            “To sit.”

            “Why?”

            “Well, if you can’t go up to the party, it simply wouldn’t do to leave you here.”

            “You mean that you would stay here? In the darkness, with me?”

            “Only until I can convince you to join your sister upstairs.”

            Luna looked at her suspiciously, as if Rarity might be lying. Then she slipped into the darkness. Rarity had thought that she had left until she heard a voice come echoing from down the stone path.

            “This way,” called Luna.

            Rarity followed, and eventually reached a small room. It was mostly empty, save for some decaying furniture piled on one side. Luna had extricated a chairs and a small table atop which sat a lantern. Luna lowered her long horn to the light source, and the wick flashed to life with a cold but brilliant silver light.

            “I assume that you are not as accustomed to darkness as I,” said Luna.

            “No,” said Rarity, taking a seat. Luna sat across from her. Due to her height, she sat eye-level with Rarity. “I don’t believe I am.”

            “I’ve always appreciated the night,” said Luna. Then, to herself, “and perhaps I am the only one who has…”

            “Excuse me?”

            “It is nothing,” said Luna, darkly.

            “If it’s bothering you, I would hardly call it ‘nothing’.”

            Luna suddenly appeared suspicious. “Why are you showing me kindness?”

            “Why would I not?” Rarity paused. “Is that unusual?”

            “It is.”

            “Oh my. I’m sorry to hear that.”

            “Ponies do not like me. They love Celestia, my dear sister, but not me. I am supposed to be happy for her. And I am. But sometimes…sometimes I fell…” She shook her head. “But why should I tell this to you, a stranger, apart from that there are none else who would listen?”

            “I can listen.”

            “So that you can laugh at me? At the younger sister, who no longer has a sphere to command? At the useless alicorn?”

            “Stop,” ordered Rarity.

            “How dare you give me an instruction- -”

            “Because SOMEPONY has to! You can’t talk like that about yourself! Darling, I am just a simple pony. I grew up in a simple place, but I know somethings and know them very well. Even if you wear the most elegant dress in the world but walk with your head turned down you will never look fabulous.”

            “A metaphor, I presume, as I am not wearing a dress.”

            “Of course.”

            “Hmm. I see.” Luna looked back to Rarity. “Forgive me. My life has been…difficult.”

            “You were trapped in the moon for a thousand years. I can’t imagine what that was like.”

            “Hell. It was hell. I wished I could die every second of every day. But my sister weathered the same fate, and it only hardened her.”

            “You can’t compare yourself to her, Princess. You are entirely different ponies.”

            “But I can only be compared to my sister. Who else is there to be measured against?”

            “It isn’t a competition.”

            “I know that,” snapped Luna. “But at the same time…”

            “What?”

            “I have always been lesser. Celestia was born to move the sun, to bring brightness and warmth to the world. I only possessed the moon…when it existed…which at its brightest is a light that never warms.”

            “As a foal, I always thought the moon was so beautiful.”

            “So did I. And I did what I could with my darkness. I painted the night sky. I spent years constructing it, perfecting it, doing my very best to place my stars. To make constellations. To help ponies navigate the seas. To give my moon phases. To differentiate myself from my sister and her blue sky.”

            “It sounds amazing.”

            “Had you been alive one thousand years ago, I doubt you would have thought so. No pony did. I created so much, and yet ponies were only awake when Celestia’s sun was in the sky. When it set, they went to sleep…and ignored me.”

            “All ponies have to sleep.”

            “I know. I know,” said Luna. Her turquoise eyes flashed slightly. “But it still hurt me, like dire wound. That they loved her, and not me. And that once again they love her and I am alone and confined to darkness.”

            “You’re not alone. I’m here, aren’t I?”

            Luna paused for a moment. “I suppose you are,” she said at last.

            “I’m not able to do much,” said Rarity, “but I can do what I can. What can I do to help?”

            Luna stared at her. “No pony has ever asked me that question. I am afraid that I do not know how to answer it.”

            “Well,” said Rarity, standing up, “then let me offer a suggestion.”

            “What?”

            Rarity extended a hoof. “Come with me. Out to the party. Join us, and your sister.”

            “But Celestia told me- -”

            “She is your sister. She will understand. If she does not, well, I’ll tell her what I think to her face!”

            Luna smiled weakly, and for a moment hesitated before putting her silver-clad hoof against Rarity’s.



            When they entered the ballroom, the room fell silent. Every eye turned to Luna and to the unknown pink unicorn beside her. All of them knew of Luna’s existence, but had accepted her absence from the Gala as a simple fact. Now the reaction ranged from mildly amused to a sudden alertness to danger. On one far end of the room, a white luminescent circle turned toward the pair.

            “Interesting,” said Creek, watching as Darknight turned to see what she was looking at. “This will be amusing.”

            Luna, meanwhile, was terrified.

            “They are all staring at me,” she said.

            “Of course they are!,” replied Rarity, “you’re a Princess!”

            They were staring, though, and Rarity could tell that she needed to so something quickly before Luna either broke down in tears and ran off or the crowd turned on her. So she did what she considered the boldest thing to so: she turned to Luna and bowed. “Hail the Moon,” she said, softly.

            The other ponies saw this, and they were not sure what to do. Many of them simply copied Rarity, bowing to Luna as well. Others copied their example, and the wave spread exponentially across the room. Within less than a minute, the entire room had fallen silent in respect.

            One pony among these did not bow. She waded through the crowd, her body dwarfing those of her subjects.

            “Sister,” said Celestia, “I told you to remain in the rear of the castle.”

            Luna looked to Rarity nervously, and then back to her sister. “N…no,” she said. “I- -I wish to attend the Gala.”

            “Despite not being invited? Despite the fact that you are devoid of a sphere, and devoid of relevance? Despite the fact that it was YOUR FAULT that Discord took our kingdom in the first place?”

            “Sister- -”

            “You are no god. You are a failure.”

            “You can’t talk to her like that,” said Rarity.

            “Excuse me, mortal? What did you say to me?”

            “You are her sister! You can’t be that cruel to her! She loves you, and you should at least try to understand how much your rejection is hurting her!”

            “I would not need to reject her if she were my equal,” said Celestia, looking directly into Luna’s eyes. “Or if she were worthy of love. It is only because she is my sister that I tolerate her.” She turned to Rarity. “But you…you I have no reason to tolerate.”

            “Sister, no!” said Luna. “This was not her idea!”

            “It certainly wasn’t yours, Luna. You’re too spineless for that. Somepony put you up to it.”

            “So what if I did?” said Rarity.

            Celestia lowered her head toward Rarity and smiled. She looked at Rarity with a deep and profound hunger. For a moment, it was not Celestia that was standing there, but a white unicorn with a long brown mane and moustache, the only other pony who had ever looked at Rarity with that kind of hunger. She froze in panic, not knowing what to do.

            “Well?” asked Celestia.

            “Excuse me?” Celestia has been speaking, but Rarity had been to terrified to listen.

            “Dance with me. I want to feel your body against mine.”

            Rarity did not know what else to do. Just like the many times before with the white stallion, she nodded and accepted her fate. Celestia smiled and led her to the center of the floor, nodding to the band as she went. They began to play, and Celestia extended a wing over Rarity. It smelled wonderful, and Rarity curtsied as the dance began. She of course knew the steps, and executed them with all the precision that would have been expected of her had she been born a socialite instead of a miner.

            “You dance well,” said Celestia, taking Rarity over one of her long legs and dipping her.

            “Of course I do,” said Rarity, standing and pressing her body laterally against Celestia’s side for the next steps. “I would not dare attend an event like this without knowing how.”

            “And yet you would attend without an invitation?”

            Rarity suddenly felt cold, but did not break step for a moment as the music swelled.

            “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” asked Celestia. “I wrote the invitations! Of course, I might not have, if you had stayed obscure. Hidden with your clone harlot and stayed in the back of the room. But you just had to involve yourself, didn’t you?”

            Rarity did not answer. She only stared up at Celestia with a neutral expression. “My Princess, I don’t know what you are speaking of.”

            “Of course you do,” said Celestia, catching Rarity as she dropped to one side into her grasp. “I am not a fool. Nor am I ignorant. The noncan is the Watcher Darknight. And that makes you the Watcher Rarity.”

            Rarity stared at her, and then as they circled removed her disguise. She shifted back to her  normal form, and heard members of the crowd gasp. “I am,” she said.

            “And you came for what? To kill me?”

            “No. I am the weakest of the Watchers. I would have no hope of harming you.”

            “Then what?” said Celestia as she once again took hold of Rarity.

            “To learn what I can. To know what you want.”

            “What I want?” Celestia held Rarity close as they swirled across the floor. “What I want is a world ruled by Harmony and peace. A place where ponies can live without fear. Does that make us enemies?”

            “No. I should suppose not. But your method might.”

            Celestia smiled. “My method is simple. I cannot build from this broken world. Not as it is. To establish a place where ponies can live in happiness, I must purge the Chaos of this land.”

            “Meaning?”

            “Meaning that your kind will die. Those infected with Chaos. Each and every one. Stallion, mare, filly and colt. My Equestria shall be a phoenix, rising bright and beautiful from the ashes of corruption and decadence.”

            “Then that makes you my enemy.”

            “I know.” She stepped back and the dance ended. Both partners bowed to each other. “And that is why I will kill you, here and now.”

            “If that is the way it has to be,” said Rarity, unhooking the clasps of her dress and letting it fall away to reveal what was left of her mithril armor. “Let the dance continue.”

            Celestia raised her horn, charging it with solar light so bright that Rarity could feel the heat. Before she could strike, though, a blast of blue light struck her in the side. It was repelled easily, leaving her divine flesh undamaged, but she turned toward the pony who had produced it. Rarity looked as well to see Darknight standing on the far side of the room, prepared to challenge the goddess.

            “You shouldn’t interfere in the business between two mares, gelding.” She raised her horn to him instead. He attempted to counter with a sheild spell, but he was too low.

            “New Moon!” cried Luna, throwing herself in the path of the beam. Her own shield spell withstood most of the blast, but she was thrown backward into a row of tables and chairs from the blast.

            “He isn’t New Moon, you idiot!” screamed Celestia. “He’s just a copy!” She turned her head and effortlessly projected a shield spell that deflected Rarity’s weak blue magic- -which only opened her to another blast from Darknight. It hit her with enough force to annoy her, but not much else. Neither of them were nearly as powerful as Celestia was.

            Those around them seemed to have little investment in the battle. The noncans seemed to have little instinct for self-preservation, and regarded it as amusing more than anything else- -although they were sure to immediately converge on and protect their beloved stage magician. All the others fled in a panic.

            Rarity did not know what else to do. She was not capable of fighting Celestia, but she knew that the ponies around her were in danger- -and knew that helping them was something that she was able to do.

            “Move!” she cried. “I have to be so blunt, but you’re all in danger! MOVE!”

            The noncans looked at her, and a few stared back rebelliously- -but others seemed to understand. They joined their comrades and decided that this battle was not worth losing their lives to watch. As they walked back, though, a different set of noncans stepped forward.

            The royal guards focused their attention on Rarity, charging their horns in preparation for an attack. Rarity drew her blade and pistol and did her best to attempt to conjure a shield spell. When they struck, she was as ready as she could be, and her spell would surely have shattered had it not been reinforced from behind. Rarity pivoted to see Darknight taking a knee from the exertion.

            “Behind you!” cried Rarity, raising her ornately carved pistol and firing a shot directly into Celestia’s face. It struck her below the eye, but she barely flinched. All Rarity had managed to do was get her attention.

            “I don’t think you realize how insulting you are being,” growled Celestia. “The least you could have done was come prepared to face me. This just makes me sad.” She raised her horn and fired a beam toward Rarity.

            Even from a distance, Rarity could tell that there was little hope for survival should the beam strike her. It was unfathomably powerful, a column of pure and perfect sunlight unified and culminated into a deadly laser. There was no way she could hope to avoid it. All she could do was attempt to rely on what little mithril she had left to protect her.

            Darknight reacted faster than Rarity. He raised his horn and projected a shield spell with all his might, encasing Rarity in a bubble of blue magic. Even that was not enough, though. Rarity could feel the heat of the beam through the spell, and watched as cracks began to spread through its magical surface. Darknight had at most given her a couple of seconds.

            Then the cracks began to seal as the blue spell changed to black. The effect was sudden and immediate. The shield not only repaired itself but became stronger- -and yet somehow being surrounded it made Rarity feel worse, as though she were cold down to her very bones.

            The feedback from the pair of spells caused them both to suddenly terminate with a blast of pure force. Rarity was thrown back but managed to gracefully regain her balance. She looked up to see that Celestia’s attention was once again on Darknight- -but that something had changed. Darknight was different. Some manner of horrid decay was slowly spreading over his body, a black stain centered on his flank. His eyes slowly turned to Rarity, and she could see that they were not the eyes of a pony at all. They were the same turquoise as before, but the pupils had become thin slits. Whatever was staring back at Rarity, it was not Darknight. It was something far more bestial.

            Darknight turned toward Celestia, and Rarity saw the ends of his mane and tail begin to merge into dark-colored energy not unlike Celestia’s own prismatic mane.

            “What is this?” demanded Celestia. “What have you done?”

            Darknight opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a bloodcurdling inarticulate scream of pure hatred. He rushed forward, and Celestia attempted to swat him away with a blast of searing light. His own darkness deflected her blast, though, and he struck back with enough force to make Celestia cry out in pain. She was thrown back, and Rarity saw a thick golden fluid dripping from a gash on her side. She had been wounded.

            Celestia said nothing. The wound was already healing itself, and she spread her wings, charging forward with her own hateful scream as she attempted to skewer Darknight on her long horn. He parried with his own, sending a shower of sparks across the room.

            Now Rarity truly had no idea what to do. She had no idea what was happening- -but she was afraid. More afraid than she had been in the dance, and more afraid than when she had faced Celestia knowing that there was no way she could have expected to survive. Then, it had only been her risking herself. Had she lost, she would have given her life to her cause, the ultimate act of generosity- -but now it was not her life at risk. She had become superfluous to the battle. Now it was her friend who was in danger.

            The guards seemed to recognize that the tide of the battle had changed. They ignored Rarity and directed their attention at Darknight. Their beams shot outward, striking their target in the back. Darknight screamed and turned on them. A torrent of darkness flew from his horn, and Rarity only barely managed to dodge it. Some of the guards did likewise, but others did not. Their shields and protection spells were torn apart, and their bodies were shredded.

            Celestia capitalized on the chance they had given her. With his attention turned to the guards, Darknight was vulnerable- -and she fired directly into his back. As she did, his eyes swiveled to look at her and before the beam struck his body collapsed into dark mist. The beam passed through him harmlessly, but struck close to Rarity. She had not been prepared, and screamed as her left rear leg and flank were instantly burned.

            Darknight showed no sign of recognizing Rarity’s pain, or caring. He reassembled himself on the side of one of the columns of the room, and then slid forward though space like shadow, leaping toward Celestia with his jaw open wide to reveal so many sharp fangs. The blackness that covered his body was continuing to spread.

            Rarity, meanwhile, lay panting on the floor. The pain was intense and unbearable- -but the thought of looking was worse. She could not help herself, though, and she turned her head- -and instantly wished she had not.

            The battle with Xyuka had ruined her mithril, and she had been forced to cut pieces away in order to maintain balance and weight distribution. Part of the sacrifice had been on her flank. Now, looking down at her ruined leg, she wished that she had found some way to keep it.

            Almost all of the flesh on that limb had been charred away. The center was black, save for the smoldering white of exposed bone. The edges were torn and smoking, producing a smell that was simultaneously appetizing and terrifying.

            “My…my leg,” said Rarity in disbelief. Her mind seemed to have frozen, and she was not able to think about her need for first aid, or process whether she could retreat or even walk. Instead, only one thought ran through her head. “I…I’m not pretty anymore…”

            Her thought was punctuated by an explosion from above that showered her with shrapnel and knocked her back to the ground. The tile and stone that she had previously found so beautiful was now in ruin and covered in dirt and debris, and she lay among it feeling cold and strangely tired. It took all of her will to get back up again and pull herself through the battlefield that now resembled a perverse parody of a beautiful gala.

            Moving was almost impossible with her damaged leg, but Rarity ignored the pain and the choking dust. At first, she wandered in a daze. Then she tripped over something warm and soft. Rarity almost screamed, thinking that she had struck a body- -but as she looked down, she saw Luna. Although she lay in a heap, she was very much alive.

            Although largely uninjured, she seemed to be in severe pain. Rarity found that she could not simply leave a pony in this state- -even one who was supposed to be her enemy- -and she did her best to shove some debris off of Luna. Luna hardly seemed to notice. She was curled tightly and shaking, occasionally gasping for breath. To Rarity’s horror, she saw that the dark stain around Luna’s cutie mark was beginning to grow and spread.

            An explosion echoed overhead. Darknight had just weathered a direct blow to his side, and although he turned for another attack Luna whimpered loudly as a thick gash appeared on her side. Dark, lustrous fluid dripped from the wound.

            Rarity looked up to the sky, realizing what was happening. She did not know why or how, but she understood that the two of them were linked- -and Darknight was killing her.

            “Darknight!” she cried. “Stop! You have to stop!”

            He did not here her- -or could no longer understand. At the sound of his name, though, his eyes did turn toward Rarity. This gave Celestia an opening. She turned and bucked him in the chest with such force that he seemed to disappear for a moment before slamming into the ground with enough force to shower Rarity in stones and fragments of tile. Luna let out a soft but horribly pained whine. “New Moon…” she whispered.

            Darknight stood from the wreckage, bleeding the same dark blood as Luna. The black material had now almost completely covered his body, and only his face remained blue. His demonic eyes searched the area, and locked onto Rarity. His horn immediately flashed with black energy, and Rarity barely had time to produce a weak shield spell and to perform a rolling dodge through the dust. The shield cracked easily, but the remainder of the spell rebounded off of the upper mithril part of her armor.

            “Darknight!” she cried. “What are you doing! It’s me, Rarity!”

            “I know who you are,” he said. His voice was horrible not because of any strange distortion, but because of how coldly sane he sounded. He sounded just like he always had, and Rarity knew in that instant that he was going to try to kill her.

            He never got the chance. A flash of orange extended from the smoke and dust, surrounding Darknight with a translucent construct. He screamed and resisted as it sparked with energy, overloading his nervous system. The dark material began to retreat slightly.

            Rarity saw their eyes first. Then she saw their luminescent projected armor as an army of Stonie units converged on Darknight’s position. Not one of them seemed afraid of death, or afraid of him.

            Darknight struggled against their bindings, but his magic slid off them. Whether as Darknight or whatever he had become, he had never known a spell necessary to overcome the technology that the Stonie units utilized. His magic was useless against something that he was not able to comprehend.

            The guards that were left took advantage of the situation, pouring their magic into Darknight. He screamed again in rage and pain, and Luna writhed on the floor in agony.

            “Stop!” cried Rarity. “You’re hurting her!”

            Her cries went unheeded, save for by one. For a brief moment, the rage faded from Darknight’s eyes. He looked at Rarity, and at Luna. A look of understanding and empathy crossed his face, and he collapsed, allowing whatever dark parasite was covering him to retreat. As he did, the spells of the guards struck him directly. Wherever they reached without the black coating was torn apart instantly.

            That was when Celestia struck him from behind. The blast was blinding, and Rarity threw herself over Luna, using her mithril to protect both of them. She felt the unprotected parts of herself burning, and she felt Luna tense as Darknight- -and by extension, her- -received the full force of Celestia’s magic.

            When it was over, Rarity turned back. What she saw filled her with disbelief, at first, followed by a creeping hopelessness. She screamed, because it was all she could do when she saw what little was left of Darknight. It did not even look like a pony anymore.

            Celestia landed gently, her golden horseshoes tapping gracefully against the destroyed floor. She approached the remains, as did her guards, all prepared to attack. She paused a moment to consider them.

            “Still breathing,” she said, almost disgusted. “That’s as impressive as it is grotesque. What does it take to kill these noncannon ponies?”

            “A great deal,” said the leader of the Stonies, stepping to the side of her Princess. “I recommend you destroy the head.”

            “Agreed,” said Celestia, charging her horn.

            “Wait!” cried Rarity. “You can’t!”

            Celestia turned her eyes toward Rarity. “It only seems fitting. He ruined my Gala, after all.”

            It was at that moment that something tinkled across the floor. Rarity looked down to see a small metal sphere bounce across the floor several times. When she looked in the direction of its origin, she saw one Stonie standing apart from the others. One without a face, save for a black plate and a white spot. The Stonie waved before vanishing into a portal. That was when the grenade went off.

            Waves of energy arced out in every direction. Several struck nearby Stonies, causing them to convulse and collapse. The others attempted to raise shields, but whatever energy the grenade used passed through them effortlessly. Likewise, blue, lightning-like bolts shot outward toward every unicorn- -and alicorn. The guards were struck knocked down from the feedback. Even Celestia was dazed by the blow, although she somehow remained on her feet.

            Rarity fully expected to be struck as well, but the bolt that was directed for her and Luna was instead absorbed harmlessly by her armor. She felt it tingle and burn, but the enchanted nature of the metal protected her.

            She understood. Taking her one chance, she rushed forward and lifted what was left of Darknight onto her back. Then she ran for the door.

            “STOP HER!” Celestia was nearly shrieking, and she took one step forward before nearly collapsing. All of her guards and allies were temporarily indisposed, so there was no one to follow her orders- -but not for long. As Rarity passed them, she could see sever Stonie units already beginning to compensate for their neural overload and climb back onto their feet.

            She ran. Her leg hurt badly, but it was only the second worst pain Rarity had ever experienced. It still took all her effort to ignore it. Darknight was indeed still breathing on her back, but only barely. The breaths were ragged and filled with fluid, and every second the space between them grew longer. He should not have survived the injuries he had sustained- -but he was still dying.

            “Don’t worry,” said Rarity. “Don’t worry…”

            She was breathing heavily when she reached the other side of the newly constructed bridge that joined the ancient castle to the EverFree Forest. When she felt the grass underhoof, she collapsed. Her rear leg would no longer function.

            She turned back to it and looked at the wound, then behind her at the forces that were now emerging from the castle. They would reach her and Darknight soon enough if she could not run.

            So she closed her eyes and focused all of her energy on the wound. Whatever she was doing hurt incredibly, and she screamed. As she opened her eyes, though, she saw the flesh around the edge of the wound cease to be charred and broken. Rarity redoubled her efforts, hoping that she did not pass out. She watched as the vibrant, living flesh at the end of the wound pulled its way across it, building scar tissue.

            It was the same as changing her skin to build a disguise. The flesh grew and changed, altering itself from one state to another. The scar became skin, and the skin grew silky, perfect white fur. Within less than a minute, Rarity had healed her wound without any sign or scar. She was beautiful again. For the time being, at least.

            With her limb repaired, Rarity stood and ran back into the woods. Overhead, she could already hear noncan Pegasi passing by, looking deep into the trees for the glow of a horn. Rarity, however, maintained the advantage of her concealment by shifting her form again. Her white coat became mottled and suave black, and her irises widened and drained of color as they adapted to allow her to see in the low light.

            She had to hurry. Celestia had set the sun for the sake of her party, but it was only a matter of time before she regained her magical coherence and raised it again. When that happened, hiding would be far more challenging, even in the EverFree.

            Lights came from behind her, projected from horns. She looked over her shoulder to see the strange artificial glow of Stonie units as they moved swiftly and silently through the trees. Once again, though, Rarity had the advantage. She had grown up in this area, and had spent a great deal of time wandering this forest, at the time wishing that a monster would devour her and make her troubles vanish. It never had, but she remembered the subtle and overgrown paths of the woods clearly.

            There was a swampy area with a number of hillocks, and Rarity quickly leapt across them, knowing exactly which ones were solid, which were not, and which were in fact the mossy back of rockadiles. This would buy her some time, but from the position of the lights through the trees she could tell that they were already surrounding her.

            Then the edge of the sky lit with red light, and Rarity turned to see the sun rising. The whole sky seemed inflamed and fiery.

            “Target sighted!” cried a Pegasus overhead. Rarity looked up, and then ducked below an area where the trees had a thick canopy. That would force them down and on foot.

            Unfortunately, Rarity was already realizing what they were doing. They were encircling her. Up ahead, there was a Chaos conduit, lying through the forest like a hundred-meter-wide discarded garden hose. With Discord dead, it would have been depowered, but it was still not safe to come in contact with the residual power. Rarity knew that- -and knew that there was no way she could get over it.

            She also knew one other thing. A fact that had never really meant much to her until this moment, and one that she realized to her deepest terror was the only way she and Darknight might be able to survive it.

            The treeline broke, and Rarity saw the conduit looming above her. As she had expected, the Pegasi were overhead and ponies were already moving through the forest to surround her. She also saw what she now knew was her only possible destination: a strange growth from the conduit, a kind of asymmetrical and oddly constructed temple overgrown with vines, moss, and slime. Rarity had, in her youth, just considered it a strange building, either one that had grown there around the conduit- -not an uncommon occurrence- -or the remnant of a larger and profoundly more ancient structure that the conduit had leveled as it grew. Now she knew what it truly was: a Chaos teleportation nexus.

            “Stop!” cried a noncan, stepping forward. He was large and red, and bore an automated minigun on his back. He did not fire. Rather, he was trying to warn Rarity of a fate far worse than anything he could produce.

            Rarity did not listen to him. She knew what she was risking- -and she knew that this was her only option. She ran up the steps of the temple and jumped squarely into the central hub. It hummed weakly, but even in its dying state the portal was more than happy to devour something more than unfortunate birds and swamp rats.



            It was not the same as when Pinkie had been there to guide them. Without any method to control their descent, the transfer was far more violent. Rarity could feel herself being disassembled on a molecular, atomic, subatomic, and sub-subatomic level as she escaped the bounds of any sane semblance of time, space, or cohesive reality of any kind.

            She felt the nature of Chaos itself as it swirled over her. It was not random action as she had thought, but rather endless decisions, all occurring simultaneously, all asking- -SCREAMING- -to be made simultaneously and in every possible and impossible way. She instantly understood why Pinkie Pie had killed herself. This was what had been inside her head every moment of every day,  a force that no pony was meant to be exposed to.

            Comprehension of the true composition of Chaos would have resulted in a fate worse than death, but only a mage of profound and impossible knowledge or perhaps a divine being would be able to even glean the slightest hint of its true visage. Rarity was neither of those things, and she could not see the Chaos in her mind- -but she sensed the decisions. She understood that they were meant to be made, and that doing so would normally be the job of a living being linked to Chaos or a powerful computer that could model their results. Again, Rarity was neither. She did not even know how to make the Chaos aware of the decisions she wanted made- -in transit, she had no body or mind. Only self- -and the lack of it.

            Then, all at once, the portal vomited her out. She felt herself slid onto the ground, landing on cold wet stone. For a moment, her addled mind told her that she had not left and had instead simply passed back to the same portal. She even saw the dark shadows of trees around her- -except that they were different, and the ground was so much colder.

            Rarity shivered, and struggled forward through the snow. She did not know where she was, or even WHO she was, let alone get up and walk. Her weakness was so intense that she barely got three meters before reaching her limit. She collapsed into the snow, and as she felt her mind fading into what she prayed was dreamless sleep, she heard the crunch of snow and saw dark figures emerging from the trees and surrounding her.   and years. �����
> Chapter 29: Factory
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sleep was not dreamless. Rarity found herself alone, drifting in blackness. It should have been peaceful, except that this was not neutral darkness. It was warm, alive- -and there were THINGS in it.

            “No,” she said, struggling against the void around her. “Please no…I don’t want to die…she still needs me…”

            From the darkness, a pair of turquoise eyes opened. Their pupils quickly narrowed as their owner looked at Rarity- -or into her. No other part of the face was visible. Just those horrible eyes.

            “Dark…Darknight?”

            There was no response. They were his eyes, though, but they were also not. Whoever it was that they belonged to remained perfectly silent, although Rarity could see the glimmer of thought passing behind those strange eyes. Consideration, perhaps, but more like cold, calculating analysis.

            Then the eyes closed. Their owner was still there, but had departed. For the time being.



            Rarity shot awake, confused and unclear of where she was. She had an impression that she said something, although she was not sure what exactly what or what those words might have meant. This state of dissociation might have continued had Rarity not locked eyes with those of another pony. The presence of a navy blue unicorn with short-cut blue hair immediately snapped her back to reality.

            “Darknight?”

            “No.” The difference in tone was incredibly subtle, but Rarity had the immediate impression that she was speaking to a mare. “My name is Darkblood. I was originally created to serve as a medic for canon ponies. My programing is the equivalent of one of your medical degrees.”

            “You’re a doctor.”

            She shook her head. “I am a noncan. I am a machine that performs medical tasks.”

            Rarity looked around the room. For the first time she noticed that the Dark unit standing beside her was wearing a uniform- -if it could be called that- -consisting of a battered vest and a band around one of her front legs indicating her status as a medic.

            The room surrounding them was small and cramped, with pipes protruding from the ceiling and no apparent windows. Several cots had been set up, but none of the others were occupied.

            “Darknight,” she said, suddenly remembering what had happened. “My friend, Darknight, is he- -”

            “I do not currently know,” said Darkblood, momentarily breaking her neutral demeaned to seem genuinely concerned. “But the remains we recovered were viable. The technicians are currently working on reassembly. I am not approved for use with noncans, so I cannot suggest his status.”

            “But he is alive.”

            The noncan hesitated. “As far as I am aware. And we are doing everything in our power to complete reassembly.” Rarity breathed a long sigh of partial relief, but Darkblood continued to eye her strangely. “It is something of a miracle, actually.”

            “That he is alive?”

            “That he was viable. The injuries he sustained were beyond anything that any known Dark series has withstood. Of course…”

            “What?”

            Darkblood considered for a moment, then shook her head. “A speculation, nothing more. Your biology is likewise unique.”

            “My biology? I’m afraid you must be mistaken. I’m just an ordinary unicorn.”

            “And yet your cells replicate at an unprecedented rate without sustaining any genetic loss.”

            “And that means, what, exactly? For an ordinary pony with…cells…”

            “It means that you might very well be immortal.” She paused. “No. Immortality is not the correct term. Eternal youth is more accurate.”

            “You mean…”

            “That you could be beautiful for all centuries. Or millennia. I don’t know. I’m designed to put organs back in when they’ve come out, not to study xenobiology.”

            Rarity pulled back the sheets that covered her. For a moment, she panicked; her armor had been removed, and she hardly recognized herself without it. Then she saw it folded neatly behind her, and saw that her body was perfect, smooth, and white. She had no wounds or injuries of any kind.

            “Immortality…”

            “No. You can still die. And you should have.” Darkblood leaned closer. “Tell me, Watcher Rarity. That is your name?”

            Rarity nodded.

            “You passed through a Chaos teleport without a Priestess or a processor unit?”

            “It was either that or be captured. And I simply cannot see myself in prison fatigues.”

            “The Enemy would not have sent you to prison. What you did was incredibly foolish. Yet, somehow, you both arrived whole and sane. To this location.” Her eyes shimmered. “The will of the Madgod must truly be with you. He chose well indeed when he selected you both.”

            “And where exactly is ‘this location’?”

            The noncan looked at her for a moment, and then stepped away, reaching for a white jacket on a hook near the door. “Wear this,” she said.

            “Why?” said Rarity, stepping out of bed and taking the coat.

            “Because our physiology allows us to withstand temperatures that you may find uncomfortable. It is cold in the rest of the factory.”

            “Factory?”

            Darkblood only nodded, and Rarity slid the jacket on. It was clean and warm, with a fringe of artificial fur near the neck that would have been highly fashionable three years ago. It was also oddly tight. Rarity looked down to see that her body was surprisingly muscular. She paused for a moment to let out some of the seams and reconfigure them to suite her figure better.

            “It will do,” she said, pausing to look at herself in a broken mirror. “Where did you get it, might I ask?”

            “One of them left it when they abandoned us.”

            Darkblood turned the handle on the heavy door near her, and slid it open. As soon as Rarity felt the air from the far side of the room, she pulled the rim of the jacket tighter around her neck and wished that she was also in possession of a fashionable scarf. It was, indeed, cold outside.

            “This way.”

            Rarity followed, although not quickly. Physically, her health was excellent. Her body had fully repaired itself from any form of injury. Her mind, though, was straining to comprehend and organize the information that filled it. She felt agitated and confused, and although Darkblood seemed nice enough, her physical and behavioral similarity to Darknight was unnerving.

            The room led to a metal catwalk, and Darkblood immediately turned left to descend a set of metal-grate stairs. Rarity paused to look out at what surrounded her, although she could not see much. Barely four meters across from her was what seemed to be a wall of machinery, consisting of numerous pipes and conduits that together made up some part of a vast machine. They were all accessible by various catwalks and stairs, as was the side that Rarity was on. Her side, though, seemed to consist of several rooms and offices.

            “What is this place?” asked Rarity as she began down the stairs after  Darkblood.

            “Support infrastructure, primarily. Water purification and the main reactor. Most of us reside in this section.”

            “Section of what? You know very well what I’m asking. I don’t mean to be rude, but I would greatly appreciate a straight answer.”

            Darkblood looked over her shoulder. “Fine. This is Factory Seven.”

            “I would hardly call that a straight answer.”

            “And I would hardly call that giving me enough time to explain.”

            Rarity blushed, somewhat embarrassed. “My apologies. Go ahead, dear.”

            “Factory Seven, owned by Obscure Spectrum Limited. This is the factory where the Dark series noncans are constructed.”

            Rarity blinked. “What?”

            “You heard me. This is the place where all Dark units are born. Our forces were driven back from the main areas of Equestria, but we managed to take our ancestral home through great sacrifice. It is the last fortification of those who serve the Madgod. Our last bastion against the Enemy.”

            By this time, they had reached the concrete floor below. Rarity looked up around her to see a number of faces staring back at her, both from the wide path and from the machinery above where they either stood waiting or had constructed makeshift dwellings. Every one stared back with the same eyes, and the same face. There must have been hundreds of them, and they were all staring at Rarity with a mix of suspicion and awe.

            “Why are they looking at me like that?”

            “Because you are one of the last chosen soldiers of the Madgod...but you are also an outsider. One not of us. Forgive us if that makes us somewhat distrustful of your intentions.”

            “I don’t mean to cause offense. I do not want to hurt anypony.”

            “We know that. It is why you are still alive.”

            Rarity felt her heart sink as she became even more nervous about her situation. She fell silent, and instead of speaking directed her attention to the ponies around her. Many of them were still wearing what was left of their unlaw armor, which was now broken and dirty from many battles. Others had taken armor from other sources, or done their best to repair what they had with metal and ballistic plastic that they could find.

            At the same time, she noticed that many of them showed signs of injury. They were bandaged, or walked with signs of great pain. A few were obviously missing at least one eye, and one was missing a rear leg.

            “They’re injured,” said Rarity, turning to Darkblood. “But I thought noncans could be repaired.”

            “We can. But our supply of spare parts is extremely low. The defective units kill us in a way that renders our pieces useless most of the time.”

            “You mean the Stonies?”

            All of the Dark units within earshot murmured. Darkblood turned to Rarity. “We avoid speaking that name here. They do not deserve a name. They have spit on everything that gave us honor as noncans, and contaminated the rest of our kind with their filth. They claim ‘freedom’ and yet make themselves slave to the Enemy. They are hated a great deal here.”

            “I didn’t realize.” Rarity looked out at them. “But then…Darknight…”

            “Several of our more substantially wounded had to be euthanized to provide the necessary components.”

            “N…no. You’re joking. You must be joking.”

            “About my beloved brothers sacrificing their lives and bodies to preserve the life of a servant of the Madgod? That is not something I would joke about, Watcher Rarity. Do you think he is not worth it?”

            “That certainly isn’t what I meant to imply.”

            “Whether you meant it or not, you did. And we strongly disagree. Universally. Night of Series Dark is unique among us, beyond a concept in nature. He, like you, is one of the few chosen. And you are both the last to be chosen by the living Madgod. His survival is imperative to ours.”

            “Frankly I don’t care about any of that!” snapped Rarity. “Darknight is my friend! I just…I feel so very useless right now. The very thought of ponies that could be so generous…and what can I do?”

            “You nearly died or faced utter madness to bring him to us. You do not have the fortune to die now. There is still so much work to be done.”

            Rarity looked to Darkblood, and to the other Dark units that surrounded her. “What can I do?”

            “Follow me,” said Darkblood. “I am only a medic. Darknexus will know far more than I.”

            Rarity did as she was told. She was led through the factory complex, and the whole time she marveled at the number of Dark units. It was as though not a single one of them had turned to Celestia’s side. Even after Discord’s death, they continued to stay loyal. There was something noble about it- -but also so horribly sad.

            Eventually, Rarity was led to an area where a number of Dark units had gathered in a large depression of the factory floor. Whatever equipment had once sat there had been moved and stacked to the sides, and tables had been set up in its place. These were covered with maps, charts, and whatever processing equipment could be salvaged from the factory and reconstructed into usable machines. The noncans here were dressed either in heavier armor or in tattered cloth uniforms that marked them as having once been in noncombat roles. It was apparent that many of them were concepts.

            These ponies parted as Rarity approached, save for one.  He was not as tall and thin as those around him, and Rarity found it odd that he- -clearly their leader, or whatever they had in place of one- -was not a concept himself. Instead, he seemed to be a normal Dark unit. Like the rest, he resembled Darknight almost perfectly, save for lines of silver in his mane and slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

            “I see the patient is awake,” he said in a voice that was perfectly identical to Darknight’s.

            “One of them,” said Rarity.

            Something glimmered in Darknexus’s eye. “Yes,” he said. “Your response is…interesting.”

            “Really? Because it seems entirely appropriate to me.”

            “I did not say ‘inappropriate’. I only mean that it is unusual that you group yourself in the same category as him, a Dark unit.”

            There were whispers from the group. Darkblood stepped forward angrily. “That is the philosophy of the Nameless Ones,” she said. “That we are equivalent to canon ponies.”

            “Yes,” said Darknexus. “Which is inherently false. For most of us. Which is why Darknight is unique. Among the Watchers, he is equally chosen as her, a canon pony. The will of the Madgod selected both, and both stand as the same type.”

            There was some whispering again, although this time it sounded as though the group were in agreement with its leader.

            “You keep speaking of Discord,” said Rarity. With a heavy heart, she forced herself to inform him. “We have reason to believe that he has been…well, to put it bluntly, killed.”

            There was no whispering this time. Darknexus raised an eyebrow. “Really? I’m surprised.”

            “That he could be killed?”

            “That you thought we didn’t know.”

            “What- -but- -”

            “As his title implies, the Madgod is a god. A deity. If his mortal body was slain, it was of his will. Tell me, Watcher, do you really think that the death of our god can ever be complete?”

            “I’ve met gods. And I’m afraid I have fought them also. And I have seen that they are mortal, just like us.”

            “That is where we differ of opinion. Discord cannot ever die, even when he does. And we remain behind to carry on, to do as he wished. To create peace through war, happiness through pain, creation through destruction, order through chaos. To build the world again in his image.” He paused. “However, your words do give us hope. Because for the Madgod’s vision to be completed, two gods must yet die.”

            “If you think you can fight them, you are a fool.”

            “I do not think. I am a noncan. I follow orders. But no. I do not intend to defeat them. Not personally. Nor do they need to be defeated. They just need to die.”

            “You’re not making any sense.”

            “Aren’t I?”

            Rarity sighed. “No, you aren’t. I would like to thank you from the very bottom of my heart for what you have done to help me and Darknight, but I’ve met Celestia. And Luna. There is no way I can fight them. Or you.”

            “That isn’t entirely true,” said Darkblood. Darknexus glared at her. “I’m not going to lie to her,” she said. She turned to Rarity. “Analysis of your comrade indicated an anomaly.”

            “An anomaly? What sort of anomaly?”

            “It is currently unclear. A latent feature. Not genetic in origin.”

            “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that means.”

            “We are all part of a series. Genetically identical. Sequenced, known. He shows an unknown feature. Something we had not identified before, and that even our creators may not have realized. A contaminant.”

            “Is it dangerous?”

            “No. Quite the opposite. It is likely what allowed him to survive his injuries. The parasite held his body together even when all science indicates that he should have lost viability.”

            Rarity inhaled sharply. The parasite. She knew what they were talking about.

            “Even more interesting,” said Darknexus, “is that there is a strong indication that we all bear an identical latent feature. Darknight was only the first among us to manifest it, but…” All of the others looked to each other, and then to him. “We have all felt…something. Something growing, somewhere. Inside us…and not. I do not know if you could understand.”

            “I certainly can’t. But I saw what that…that THING did to Darknight. If you have it too, you are all in danger.”

            “We are already all in danger,” said Darkblood. “The Enemy has determined us to be obsolete. We are slated for violent euthanasia. Every single one of us.”

            The room fell silent, but one noncan pushed past the others. She was a tall concept, dressed in a cloth uniform that had been crudely modified to fit her larger and more slender size. She was carrying a not in her mouth. When she reached the center of the circle, she saluted and presented the note to Darknexus. Darknexus returned the salute and took the note, unfolding it with his magic. His turquoise eyes scanned it for a moment, and then he looked up.

            “It is as report on the status of the Dark Watcher.”

            The drop of a pin could have been heard as the entire room waited, each holding their breath. None of them were as nervous as Rarity, though. She did not know what she would do if the news was what she feared.

            “The reconstruction was a success. Neurological function is at ninety seven percent, and all of his internal systems are intact.”

            There was a collective sigh of relief, and Darknexus set the page down on the table nearest to him. He stepped forward. “Come,” he said to Rarity. “I can see that you are anxious to see him. As am I. Darkblood and Dark Concept Six may accompany us if they wish.”

            Darkblood stepped forward, as did the tall concept who had delivered the letter. Rarity was unsure of the sex of the latter, but assumed male. The look in his eyes was that of a young colt; he seemed to be incredibly surprised that he had been allowed to join Darknexus and Rarity.

            Darknexus led them deeper into the factory, toward a large door. Two heavily armed Dark units were guarding it, and on his approached they opened it. The sound was surprisingly loud as it clanked to the side, as if many mechanisms had to be disengaged to unlock it. Once it was open, the group stepped into a large cylindrical room. The door closed behind them, leaving them in the dark.

            Rarity lit her horn, but it was unnecessary. Several violet lights flickered on in the sides of the room, and there was a hiss from apertures on the wall. Rarity, expecting to be gassed, held her breath, but nothing came out.

            “We have no more decontamination gas,” said Concept Six. His voice was identical to the others, but somehow sounded childlike.

            “It doesn’t matter. This wing is already empty. If we have any left, we need it in the locks around the zones that are still functional. We can’t risk contaminating the few that we have left, or the sterile chambers.”

            There was a sudden mechanical sound, and the second door opened. Darknexus led them forward out of the airlock and into a tall, narrow hallway. Rarity blinked in the light from the artificial lights mounted on the walls and suddenly realized that she had been here before. The walls were lined with machines connected to large, egg-like glass pods.

            “What is this place?” she demanded.

            “A production floor. It’s abandoned now.” Darknexus pointed up at the containers. “Those are amniotic jars. Wombs, if you prefer to think of them that way. Each and every one of us was created in one. Every noncan was.”

            Rarity looked up at the glass containers. Nearly all of them were empty, although a few were filled with a turbid, dark, sickly looking yellow fluid.

            “Why are they empty?”

            “Because every Dark unit in this wing has been born already,” said Darkblood. She looked to one of the fluid-filled containers. “Or failed when the operators abandoned the facility.”

            “Why did they leave?”

            “They were afraid,” said Concept Six.

            “He is not incorrect,” said Darknexus. “The world ended. Being a canon pony suddenly became so very dangerous. Why stay here? Their products are not worth more than their lives.” He looked over his shoulder. “When we took the factory, we found Concept Six in the special productions wing. He had been grown to term, but his programming had never been completed.”

            Rarity turned to the tall concept noncan. “They just left you there?”

            “I don’t…I don’t remember…” He looked at Darknexus. “Just, there. Not moving. Then I woke up. I was all wet. And the others were there. And they looked like me. They still do.”

            “Is the factory still active?”

            They all looked at Rarity. “Yes,” said Darknexus. “This is the last place where our kind can be born. Of course it is still active. If this factory dies, so do we.”



            They moved deeper in the factory until they reached an area that had individual rooms. Darknexus picked one and led them in to a large room filled with versions of equipment similar to the type that Rarity had seen in the Watcher’s base before the Stonies had overtaken it. The room was also occupied by several beds, all of which were stained with dark fluid and several of which were occupied by individuals covered completely with sheets.

            Several ponies in heavy white coats were also present- -as well as one who was not.

            “Darknight!” cried Rarity, running forward toward him. She pushed through the technicians and wrapped him in a hug. Only when she was that close did she see the scars that ran across his body where new pieces had been installed.

            “What- -what is this?” she demanded, turning to the technicians. “Why are there scars on him?”

            One of the technicians removed his face mask. “Our programing designates us as medics,” he said. “We do not know how to do any better. It is beyond us.”

            “They saved my life,” said Darknight, his new trachea sounding hoarse and raw. “Slight modifications to my physical appearance are irrelevant.” He released Rarity and took a shaky step forward. It was apparent that their success at reattaching his nerves had also been mediocre. More frighteningly, though, Rarity noticed something else that had changed.

            “Darknight! Your flank!”

            Darknight turned his head slowly and looked. His own eyes widened when he saw the black stain that remained there. “I see,” he said.

            Darknexus stepped forward. “Darknight. Do you know who I am?”

            Darknight looked at him for a moment. “Yes. You are Darknexus.”

            “I am honored that you would recognize my face.”

            “It would be difficult not to. You are the oldest among us.”

            “Really?” said Rarity.

            Darknexus nodded. “I am thirteen years old,” he said. “Most Dark units are retired at ten when our function begins to decrease. I was owned by a private investigation firm. They found my experience valuable, and allowed me to live longer.”

            “He is something of a legend,” said Darknight.

            “Or, rather, my legend is,” said Darknexus. He looked at Darknight, and at the stain on his flank.

            “Why are you looking at me like that?” said Darknight.

            “We have a strong interest in what exactly that is,” said Darknexus.

            Darknight looked at it. “I don’t know.”

            “At the Gala,” said Rarity, “something happened. You changed.”

            A look of recognition crossed Darknight’s face. “Yes,” he said. “I know.”

            “You tried to kill me.”

            They all looked at Rarity. Concept Six seemed astounded, but Darknexus seemed both knowing and disappointed.

            “I…I did,” said Darknight.

            “Why?”

            Darknight shook his head. “I don’t know. I just…I don’t know. I felt something…from outside.”

            “We all feel it,” said Darkblood. “At the edge of our minds. Waiting.”

            “I guess…I guess I felt it for some time. When I was there, it got stronger. I could feel it. Wanting to come inside. And then…” He turned to Rarity. “I saw you. In danger. I had to save you, but I couldn’t do it myself. I wasn’t strong enough. So I let it in.”

            “And you experienced a negative reaction,” noted Darknexus.

            Darknight nodded. “I don’t remember it…but I remember that it was so clear. Everything made sense. I just wasn’t…me. It was somewhat traumatizing.”

            “Well, you are safe now,” said Rarity, putting her hoof on his shoulder. “This is your factory, isn’t it? Where you were born?”

            Darknight looked around. “Yes,” he said, a thin smile crossing his face. “Yes it is.” He suddenly seemed gravely concerned. “But why are we here? We shouldn’t be here…”

            Darknexus stepped forward. “There are some things I will need to explain to you. I am afraid that few of them will be pleasant.”



            They walked through the factory, back to the living floor. Darknexus did indeed explain, and the look of concern on Darknight’s face grew with every word. Once again, Rarity felt helpless. She wished she could do something to help him, but she had no idea what could help.

            As they walked, a crowd began to gather. Now not only was Rarity present, but as was Darknight- -their brother, and something more. He was like a concept, but not one chosen by their creators but by their god.

            At one point, a group of noncans burst through the crowd. Rarity looked down, at first not especially concerned with them. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she saw Darknight’s eyes widen in absolute surprise when he saw the group of fillies and colts emerge from the crowd.

            Darknight looked to Darknexus. “Children,” he said. Indeed, he was correct. They looked just like him, save for the scars and the black stain. They were just in miniature, with wide, innocent eyes that looked up at him and Rarity with awe. “These…these are children.”

            Darknexus nodded solemnly. “Last week, we lost core power in one of the sectors. We could not restore it in time. We had to remove them early.”

            “That shouldn’t be possible.”

            “It apparently is. Their programming is almost nonexistent. We will have to install everything manually. We are currently working on acquiring a Lee unit to educate them.” He sighed. “And that is the crux of our problem.”

            “What do you mean?” said Rarity, feeling the dread in his voice. “You- -you do know how to keep the factory running, don’t you?”

            Darknexus looked at her, and then shook his head. “We were a series designed for use as soldiers. Unlaw enforcement officers, private guards, mercenaries. We’re not scientists. We are not engineers. We don’t know what we’re doing. We are learning, but not fast enough.”

            “No. No, it’s the factory, it can’t- -”

            Darknexus put his hoof on Darknight’s shoulder. “We cannot operate the factory. All we can hope for is to complete the programming of the units we have and let them be born, but even that is taxing our abilities. Many of us will die. And once the factory is gone, no more of us can be made.”

            Darknight looked at him. “Then we need to find a new factory.”

            “Our factory is unique to us. No other factory can produce Dark units.”

            “That is not true.”

            Darknexus raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying, Darknight?”

            Darknight looked at Rarity, and then at Darknexus as though he had some horrible secret. “I spoke with a pony at the Gala. A Stonie unit.”

            “You know they are liars,” said Darkblood, harshly.

            “Not her,” said Darknight, shaking his head. “She was unique among them. A custom unit.”

            A memory flashed into Rarity’s mind. “I remember her!” she cried, perhaps too loudly. “She was the one who helped us escape!”

            “Why would one of the Nameless Ones do that?” asked Darkblood in disbelief.

            “Because she is not one of them,” said Darknight. “She is something else. A piece of Xyuka that was left behind…and something else. But she told me what we are.”

            “We are machines. Created to serve the Madgod.”

            “No. We are clones.”

            The crowd looked to Darknight, enraptured by his revelation.

            “What do you mean by that?” asked Darknexus.

            “We are derived from an ancient lineage. A piece of genetic material taken from a single individual. This factory must contain a piece, a template. If we could take another factory…”

            “We could install the template and make more of ourselves.”

            “Assuming this is true,” snapped Darkblood. “What you are saying is ridiculous. Clones? Of what?”

            “Of…” Darknight paused, as if the truth pained him. “We are clones of the son of Princess Luna.”

            Rarity gasped, and the crowd began speaking. Many did not seem to believe him. Darknexus, though, appeared to remain open to the idea. “Are  you aware of the implications of what you are saying?”

            “I am,” said Darknight.

            “I’m not,” said Concept Six. He turned to Rarity. “Are you?”

            “No,” said Rarity. “But if you are copies of a pony…”

            “Then it means that we are ponies,” said Darknight.

            “Heresy!” cried Darkblood. “We are machines, nothing more! You were supposed to be our hero, and now you stand here, spitting the propaganda of those that betrayed our kind!”

            “Darkblood,” said Darknexus, sternly. “If you won’t control yourself, go back to your room.” He turned to Darknight. “Although I do not believe you.”

            “But how would you know if it is true? If our programming is even correct?”

            “Because of course it is correct.”

            “Why?” asked Concept Six. All of the ponies nearby turned to him. “It’s just code in my head. Memories of things that I don’t remember. None of it’s real, right?”

            They stared in confusion and horror. “His programming isn’t complete,” said Darknight at last. “They haven’t forced him to believe it yet. To obey.”

            Darknexus turned sharply to Darknight. Now he too showed his anger. “Then what would you have us do? Forsake the Madgod, and join our Enemy?”

            “It is not a binary decision! You can do neither! We can make our own choices, live as ponies. We do not need Celestia, but we do not need to sacrifice ourselves either. We can live as ourselves.”

            The Dark units looked to each other, and spoke among themselves. Darknexus stared into Darknight’s eyes. “That may be true. For you,” he said. “You are a Watcher. Unique, and different. But we do not have that capacity. We can only follow orders. The last orders of our last master were ambiguous, and we can interpret them, but we are not like you. We cannot make independent thoughts. None of us can reach the conclusion you have.”

            “What are you saying?”

            “I’m saying that you have transcended us.”

            “He’s not wrong,” said Rarity. The group suddenly turned to her, clearly not thrilled to have an outsider speaking on such sensitive matters. “If you try to fight this war, you will die. All of you, and your kind.” She put her hoof on the head of one of the little fillies. “Even them. They could have lives- -”

            “No,” said Darkblood. “They could not. Not in this world.”

            “I agree,” said Darknight.

            “Darknight!”

            “I need…I need to think,” he said. “Permission to be excused?”

            “You do not need to ask me for permission,” said Darknexus. “You are one chosen by the Madgod. You do as you need to.”

            “Thank you.”

            He began to walk away, leaving the group identical ponies behind.

            “You ought to go too,” said Darknexus, speaking to Rarity. “He may have thought, but he is still so new. You are a young mare, but you still know so much more than any of us. Let him help you. Not the other way around.”

            Rarity nodded, and left the group, following her comrade all alone.   )���3�
> Chapter 30: Decisions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darknight took a position high above the factory floor, overlooking the ponies below from a great distance. Above them was a window that might once have been a skylight. Now it was dark- -there was little light this far north- -and snow had fallen in through the broken windows, piling below.

            The alcove was cold, but protected from the wind. Rarity sat down on the edge near where Darknight was lying and looking down on his hundreds of brothers and sisters as they went about their business.

            “You’re cold,” he noticed.

            “I am. You’re not.”

            “I know. But I don’t know why.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know what is true and what is lies, or who am I am or why I am here. It is unpleasant.”

            “That’s how we all feel,” said Rarity. “You yourself said that you were a pony and not a machine.”

            Darknight looked at her. “And you, you feel like this?”

            “Sometimes,” admitted Rarity. “More so when I was younger. Back then, a lot of thing didn’t make terribly much sense.”

            “Do they now?”

            “No.”

            “So I will be like this forever?”

            “Perhaps. Or perhaps not. It’s not a question I can answer. I don’t think anypony can.”

            Darknight let out a long sigh. “It was so easy being a machine. Now everything is so hard…”

            “Can I tell you a story?”

            “Will it help?”

            “Perhaps. It concerns my sister.”

            “Sweetie Belle?”

            Rarity was touched that he had remembered Sweetie Belle’s name. “Yes. She’s just a little filly…well, not so little anymore. She’s already almost in her teens.” Rarity sighed. “Time goes by so quickly, doesn’t it?”

            “She is between four and five times older than me.”

            That was a strange thought, but Rarity ignored it. “When she was younger, all she could think about was getting her cutie mark. Her and her little friends. Applejack’s sister, and that one orphan girl…” A thought crossed Rarity’s mind, but it was so faint that she ignored it. “I forget her name. They spent all their time trying to find their place in life and get their cutie marks.”

            “Cutie marks?”

            “Yes. Why, they nearly ran me ragged! I don’t know what I would have done if I wasn’t able to change my hair color at will. I’d be as gray as the moon!”

            “Did they ever succeed? At finding their place?”

            “They did,” said Rarity, omitting the fact that receiving three separate cutie marks had driven the seemingly inseparable friends apart. “But my point is that it required a great deal of trying, and searching, only to find that the truth was really with them all along.”

            Darknight stared down at the factory for a long moment. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I’m  not really a pony, and I will never find my place in this world?”

            “Well, what was your place before?”

            “I was a Watcher,” said Darknight. He paused. “No. I AM a Watcher.” He turned to Rarity. “And I have to continue my mission.”

            “Do you?”

            He nodded. “I heard what Celestia said to you. About the canon ponies, what she will do to them. And what I know she will do to the Dark series. I have to protect them. I have to protect them all, if it takes everything I have.”

            “Is that your decision, or are you just aping what Discord told you?”

            “Discord is dead. Chaos is dead. I don’t care what they told me. I care about my decision. I have to help them. I have to stop Celestia.”

            Rarity fell silent and looked out at the crowd below. “Then you are going to have to do it alone,” she said.

            Darknight’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”

            “Because I can’t help you.”

            “Of course you can! If we can get the others- -”

            “There are no others!” shouted Rarity, suddenly feeling her ire rise uncontrollably. “You saw what I saw, didn’t you? Pinkie is dead, and Pinkamena with her…and so is poor Sunset…and Starlight left us…”

            “We still have Rainbow Dash and Twilight.”

            “You saw the state that Rainbow Dash was in! If she’s even still alive, there is nothing she can do to help us with one wing.”

            “We can find parts. If we can- -”

            “You don’t know Pegasi like I do. A wound like that is far deeper than it looks. Her confidence will be ruined.” Rarity sighed and shook her head. “And Twilight  no doubt has abandoned us as well. She would have contacted us otherwise. After all this time…it is just the two of us.”

            “That is why I need you!”

            Rarity looked him in the eye. “I can’t,” she said. “What can I do? What can WE do?”

            “If I use the power again- -”

            “NO! Darknight, it will kill you!”

            “I have to! It’s the only way I can match Celestia!”

            “But if you use it again…Darknight, please. You won’t come back out.”

            “Then that’s a sacrifice I have to make.”

            “And it’s one I can’t,” said Rarity. “Darknight, please. You have to understand. I have a sister. I have to take care of her. If I can get her, we can make it to the Crystal Empire. We will be safe there. For some time, at least.”

            “How can you say that?” said Darknight, standing up suddenly. He was now as angry as Rarity had seen him before. “Your sister? Do you think your sister, a canon pony, can survive at all in a world ruled by Celestia? If you think she won’t conquer the Crystal Empire, you are a fool!”

            “I have to try! I can’t lose my sister!”

            Darknight gestured to the noncans below. “And what about me? How many sisters have I lost? How many brothers? How many of them have died for this cause?”

            “It’s not- -”

            “It’s not the SAME? Is that what you wanted to say? Because we’re not canon? They still feel pain, Raritiy. Fear. Loneliness. Loss.  Those little fillies and colts? They will be dying on battlefields by the time they are YOUR sister’s age. But it’s not the same, is it? It’s okay. We’re disposable, aren’t we?”

            “It’s not the same,” hissed Rarity. “You don’t understand.”

            “No. I think I do.”

            “She’s my daughter.”

            Darknight’s demeaned suddenly changed completely. “W…what?”

            “Sweetie Belle is my daughter. Does that help you understand?”

            “Your…how could…but you’re not even thirty…”

            “I know. Not that you could tell if I was. I had her when I was twelve.”

            “But…but…”

            “Does it change your opinion of me? Did I just fade from the epitome of class to a dirty whore in your mind?”

            “No,” said Darknight. “I just…why did you lie to me?”

            “What?”

            “I…what is this?” he grabbed at his chest. “Why do I feel like this? I feel…betrayed. That you didn’t trust me. I knew every fact about you, but…we were friends.”

            Rarity stood up, tears welling in her eyes. She had expected the same reaction from him as all the others, but gotten one that was the complete opposite- -one that she should have expected. “I didn’t lie,” she said.

            “But you said she was your sister.”

            Rarity took a deep breath. “She is. My half-sister. We…we share a father.”

            Darknight seemed confused at first as he processed the lineage that Rarity had described. Then he gasped. “Your…your father raped you.”

            Rarity slapped him across the face. She did so fast and hard, and he did not see it coming at all. “NO!” she cried. “My father is a gentlepony, he would never rape ANYPONY! It was- -it was just that- - my mother died in the Chaos storms, and daddy…he said I looked so much like her…and sometimes he made me morph so that I really did look like her...” She shook her head. “I must have caused it. It had to be my fault. Because he loved me. He wouldn’t have done that to me if he didn’t love me. I…I must have enjoyed it. Even if it hurt so much…”

            “That’s why you left Ponyville.”

            Rarity nodded. “The scandal…in a town like that, it gets out. What they thought of me…they fired me from the mines. I had no money. I had to go live with HIM. And I could have lived with that. Except that…” She choked back her tears. “Except that I saw him looking at Sweetie Belle. The way he used to look at me.” She looked up at Darknight. “I had to do something. When Discord chose me…it was my chance! I had the money to send her to boarding school, to take full custody of her.”

            “I didn’t know.”

            “I didn’t tell you. How could you have known?”

            “You thought it would change my opinion of you.”

            Rarity nodded. “Did it?”

            “Yes.”

            Rarity sighed. “I thought it would.”

            “I can’t ever hope to be the pony you are,” said Darknight.

            “What?”

            “I do not know what it is like to have a father, or a mother. But if I had been in your place, I would have slit his throat. But you granted the mercy of allowing him to survive. And you cared for your daughter, one that you still love despite the circumstances of her birth. You took a job you knew would kill you to keep her safe.” A tear formed in the corner of his eye. “I don’t…I didn’t…I didn’t know…”

            Rarity did not speak, but approached him and hugged him. He hugged back. His body felt cold, but there was some warmth within. Rarity could feel his heart beating, and he could no doubt hear hers.

            “I understand,” he said. “If you choose to, you can leave. Protect her. But please. I do not think you will be save in the Crystal Empire. Not forever. If I fail, she will come for you in time.”

            “You are still going to try to fight her, aren’t you?”

            “I have to. For them. For you. For her.”

            “But even if you win…you won’t survive.”

            “I know. But I don’t think I was meant to. I am not cannon. I was meant to be erased…but I will have at least done something of my own choice, and for a reason.”

            “Then…is this goodbye?”

            Darknight did not answer, although they both knew that it was.    tyle='mso-
�ފ�
> Chapter 31: The End of the World
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Both Rarity and Darknight departed in different directions from Factory Seven. Among the few supplies that the Dark units had gathered were a number of small military airships, large enough for one or two ponies. They did not hesitate to lend them to their beloved Watchers, or to ask why the pair needed two. Rarity did not have the heart to tell them that she would not be fighting in the battle that they surely wished she would win, but she had the impression that some knew. Darknexus certainly did, and he accepted her choice, knowing that it was her prerogative as a canon being.

            Darknight headed south, toward the emergent city of Canerlot. Rarity, meanwhile, headed east across the hyperborean land on her own path. Doing so was incredibly difficult, but not for any physical reason. In fact, a physical obstacle to distract herself would have been welcome in comparison to being left alone with her thoughts. The airship was cramped, with no space to walk or move, but the controls were simplistic and the weather smooth- -and every second, Rarity wondered if she had chosen correctly.

            After three days of passing over empty wasteland that belonged to no pony at all, Rarity reached the next inhabited area on her charts. It was a minor and obscure country that according to the various maps that Concept Six had given her was called the Yak’s Republic of YakYakistan. With her fuel supplies dwindling and no more stops until the Exmoor archeological landing point one hundred miles south, Rarity brought the airship down onto a snowy landing field. As soon as she powered down the engine, she spotted an especially hairy creature approaching her from a nearby hut that was apparently the main body of the airport. His uniform was almost entirely lost in his fur, and he wore an ushanka that appeared to be the same texture and color as the rest of him.

            When he was in earshot, he immediately began to yell.

            “Little horn pony is not expected here!” he shouted, even though he was only a few feet away. “What is doing here in glorious motherland of YakYakistan?”

            “I just need to refuel,” said Rarity, quietly. She was distracted and did not want to deal with this yak at this particular moment.

            “Hmm,” said the yak, stroking his long beard. “Is little horn pony having the correct immigration papers?”

            “Papers?” asked Rarity, annoyed. “No, I don’t have any papers.”

            “Good!” laughed the yak, slapping Rarity on the back so hard she was driven into the snow. “Only SPIES come with the papers! And little horn pony knows what yaks do to dirty spies?”

            “No. What?”

            “The goulash.”

            “You mean gulag.”

            The yak lifted his hair out from in front of his eyes and snorted in Rarity’s direction. “No. Yak knows what yak means. Yak means GOULASH. Does pony thing yaks are having the great much of funding for gulag?”

            “Um…no?”

            “Da. Yak was not thinking so.” He turned around. “Follow yak. Yak show you where fuel store is.”

            Rarity climbed out of the snow and followed him to the airport gate. There was no fence connected to it, of course; they had not possessed the money. Still, the yak insisted on following procedure and knowing how important it was Rarity obliged.

            The yak city was just about the most depressing place Rarity had ever seen, and it was not what she needed in her current mood. All of the buildings were enormous state-planned concrete monoliths, and they were hideous with their tiny windows and total lack of aesthetic balance. Making matters worse was that like everything else, they were covered in snow. There was no greenery whatsoever. Just snow and sadness.

            “Well, this place is…quaint.”

            “Is not quaint! Is glorious modern city, epitome of world! Shining jewel of Discodia!”

            “Of course,” said Rarity, preferring not to correct the yak or mention that Discord was, in fact, dead.

            “Yaks come to land in great ancient times, settle home here! Modern yaks are descendent of glorious Cossyaks, but now have much better government to redistribute the wealth!”

            “Not mine, hopefully. I have no money.”

            “Exactly! Neither do yaks! Is point!”

            Rarity groaned. She felt a headache forming behind her horn, and she actually found herself wishing that she could go back to the airship. Still, she did not want to be rude. “So, what is it you do here?”

            “Yak watches airport. Is security. Keeps capitalists out, and not-capitalists in.”

            “No. I mean yaks in general.”

            “Ah!” The yak pointed up at a mountain were a large gray structure had been assembled, appearing to grow out of the otherwise picturesque mountain like a dreary growth. “Yaks mine the Ural mountains!”

            “Mines? For what, exactly?”

            “Does pony not have ears? Ural  mountains are full of urals! Yaks mine those!”

            “And what exactly is a ural, then?”

            The yak suddenly leaned closer. “Is state secret!” he whispered. “Is tiny horn pony being sure that tiny horn pony is not actually SPY?”

            “If I were a spy, would I have asked you directly for a state secret?”

            The yak stared at her. “Yak is not sure if tiny horn pony is being smart and giving lip to yak or not. But yak let slide because pony is same color as snow, and yak likes snow. Is favorite food.” He shrugged. “Is only food.”

            He started walking and led Rarity to what was more or less a shack half-embedded in a snowdrift. The yak pushed the door open and then pushed Rarity inside. The inside of the shack was not much cleaner than the outside, but Rarity saw that it was as general store- -or at least meant to be. There was no food at all, or supplies of any sort. The shelves were bare.

            “Where is all the merchandise?”

            “Merchandise is bourgeois. Here, have glorious propaganda.” The yak picked up a piece of paper and shoved it in Rarity’s face. It showed hoof-drawn image of a bearded and ridiculously muscled yak standing atop a green hill wielding a hammer and sickle. The caption was: “Yaks are best yaks, and get goulash! Yaks who not work are worst, and ARE goulash!” Most of the letters were backward, and looked like they had been drawn in crayon.

            “Tiny horn pony can buy coal for engine here. Burns best in whole world! Richest, thickest yak smoke! Also, we have paper!”

            “I don’t need any more propaganda, thank you. This one is quite enough.”

            “No, not that paper! News paper! Here!” He pointed behind a counter to where a graying and seemingly ridiculously old yak was staring at a telegraph ticker. The ticker would occasionally move, tapping out something that Rarity could not decipher. As it did, the yak would slowly write down words onto a sheet of paper.

            “Is this how you get information from the outside world?”

            “Da! Is epitome of yak engineering! We use yak to make words out of clicky-machine! Pictures much harder, though. The bandwith is being only so-so.” He picked up a paper and gave it to Rarity. “Here! Read, become educated like yaks! Learn that outside world is so bad because is not having the great-much of communism! Yak will find yak to find yak to get yak to shovel coal.”

            He walked off, leaving Rarity alone with the paper. She looked around the store, finding it empty save for the telegraph yak.

            “I don’t suppose you would be up for any conversation?” she asked

            The yak stopped writing and looked up over her glasses. Then she immediately but very slowly went back to her work.

            “I didn’t think so,” said Rarity. She looked around one last time to see if there was any food to eat, but upon seeing none took a seat in a yak-sized chair and opened the paper.

            She had expected to see something about the disruption of the Gala, and perhaps warnings to be on the lookout for a white unicorn and a badly wounded Dark unit. What dominated the front page, though, was entirely unexpected. The headline stood in enormous bold letters:



“PRINCE OF CRYSTAL EMPIRE MURDERED!”



            Rarity stared in disbelief, and then threw open the paper, quickly reading through the yak-written pages.



            “Year of our Solar Goddess 1, August 8th: This morning Prince Shining Armor, scion of House Twilight and husband of Crystal King Sombra was discovered murdered in his private chambers by the King himself. Anonymous but trusted sources within the castle indicate that he was completely decapitated, making necromancic reconstitution impossible. The head was not found, and was assumed stolen by the culprit.

            “Early investigation has shown that the locks and security spells on the Prince’s chamber were not compromised. The room, however, showed a tremendous residual magical signature. Our experts believe that this is suggestive of a teleportation spell. There were no signs of struggle, but traces of neurotoxin were found in the prince’s bloodstream.

            “The few reporters that survived the interview indicate that Sombra has been thrown into an inconsolable rage. His most recent edicts have closed the Crystal Empire to outsiders, and expelled foreigners on pain of immediate execution. The remainder indicate the torture procedures for the culprit once he is found. Although they are too lengthy to list here, it should not need to be mentioned that they are quite gruesome.”



            Rarity continued reading, but she could hardly believe what she was seeing. The Crystal Empire was closed. Her plans were completely dashed- -the only safe place in all of Equestria was now beyond her reach. Further, the other articles indicated that the Inquisition had already begun: ponies were being rounded up throughout Equestria: Baltimare, Vanhoover, throughout Steurope, and in Manehattan- -the place where Sweetie Belle’s boarding school was located.

            “No! Sweetie Belle!” Rarity threw down the paper and stood up. As she did, the first yak came back to the room.

            “Yak is back,” said the yak. He looked down at the paper. “Ah! Tiny horn pony read depressing news. So sad. But not really.” He shrugged. “Frilly prince pony is one of noble family. They are having the great many children. One will replace him. Yak is sure everything turn out okay.”

            “Until Celestia comes for you.”

            “Sun-pony not care about yaks. Only ponies. Yaks safe either way.”

            “But we’re  not.”

            “Ponies? No, ponies not.”

            “She has my sister.” Rarity pushed past the yak. “I’m such an idiot. He was right. It is the only way. None of us will ever be safe. Not until she is dead…”        H���
> Chapter 32: The Betrayer
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The construction of Canterlot was proceeding at an incredible rate. The cliffside citadel would have taken centuries to construct during Celestia’s early reign, but in the age of technology it could be built within a matter of months. It now stood incomplete but nearly functional, rising from the ashes of Discordalot.

            A new castle had been constructed, a seat of power for Celestia to rule over a world of eternal light and harmony. Much of the spires and architecture were still incomplete, but the castle was still functional. A force of guards had already been stationed there, as well as the majority of Celestia’s pre-war forces.

            Among them was their commander, the Pegasus Hurricane. On that particular day, she had just begun her rounds through the halls for personal inspection after visiting her husband. The prolonged stasis in the moon had rendered him catatonic, save for brief periods where he would do nothing but scream. This had broken Hurricane’s heart, as had the fact that although their daughter had survived the war, her bloodline had been swayed to the side of Chaos in the intervening centuries. The rainbow-maned Watcher was proof of that.

            The only thing that Hurricane could take solace in was the glory of the sun, and her duty as the general of Celestia’s army. That was all that held her together- -but even then, she had a strange feeling that something was horribly wrong. That something terrible was still on the horizon. She could see it in the empty, dead eyes of Celestia’s clone guards, and in every dark corner of the world where dissidents and madmares seemed to lurk.

            In this state of through, Hurricane did not notice a subtle distortion of light as it moved across the ceiling. She had been trained to recognize invisibility spells, and her keen eyes were certainly able to detect them- -but she was not aware of the existence of polychromatic cloaks. Rarity had unknowingly created the first of them, and given it to Rainbow Dash without a thought of what it might eventually be used for.

            The shape slipped by her easily, clinging to the ceiling and walls using a powerful gravity spell. Within seconds, it had passed by her toward the chambers within the castle. Within minutes, it had reached its destination: the chamber where Celestia stood, looking out over the highest balcony in the central tower down at her eternal kingdom below.

            The cloaked figure approached, but Celestia spoke.

            “Don’t think that I can’t see you, mage. I’ve known you were her since you set hoof inside my castle.”

            “I know,” said Twilight, removing and discarding the cloak. Like its previous owner, it had served its purpose and ceased to be useful.

            Celestia turned toward her. “So you have come to challenge me in the name of Discord, I presume?”

            Twilight smiled and looked up at the Princess with bloodshot eyes. She had beheld few things in her life that were so beautiful as the solar goddess. “There is no Discord,” she said. “He is dead. You killed him.”

            “I did,” said Celestia.

            “So I have no reason to challenge you. In fact, I have a gift.” Twilight reached under her clothing and produced a heavy sack. She threw it on the ground, and the white unicorn head within rolled out onto the floor, leaving a trail of silver blood as it rolled to Celestia’s feet. Shining Armor’s eyes were still open, staring in fear and pain just as they had when Twilight had murdered him. Now, though, they looked up at Celestia without seeing.

            Celestia looked at the head, and then at Twilight. “The prince of the Crystal Empire. For what do I need this?”

            “You don’t. But I do.” Twilight pointed at the head. “That’s my bargaining chip.”

            “Bargaining? For what?”

            “My survival. I’m not a fool. I needed something to keep you from killing  me. To give us a chance to speak.” She pointed at the head. “He is…well, was…my brother.”

            “So? Is that supposed to impress me?”

            “Of course not. But you need to understand the implications of it. Both he and I are nobles, the last two children of House Twilight. We are very old nobility.”

            “I am aware of that,” said Celestia, darkly.

            “And nobility often kill each other to gain position. With him dead, I become the heir to my family’s work, title, and wealth. And my actions are perfectly legitimate. By his position as a King, Sombra must accept that this is my right. I’m sure you’re familiar with the situation. It has barely changed since your time.”

            “If that is true,” said Celestia, looking down at the head, “then you need to take responsibility.”

            “Yes. The ritual of declaration is highly formalized. And I am prepared to do it. But I can’t if you kill me.”

            “But what would that mean to me?”

            Twilight smiled, knowing that this was the crux of her plan. “I left enough traces to indicate that Shining Armor’s murderer used a teleportation spell to get close to him. The only ponies that can use that spell are myself…”

            “And my guards.” Celestia immediately understood. “If you do not claim responsibility, Sombra will assume that it was one of my assassins.”

            “And you will be put at war with the Crystal Empire.”

            “A war I could easily win.”

            “Yes, but at what cost? Even if it’s just time, do you really want to fight that war now?  Or would you rather let me live and let the world chalk this up to sibling rivalry?”

            Celestia’s eyes narrowed at Twilight, but then she smiled. “I love it.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “Congratulations, scion of House Twilight. You have impressed me. All that you have accomplished, all with one simple action. You are indeed worthy of an audience with me.”

            “Thank you, my Princess,” said Twilight, bowing.

            “But,” said Celestia, her tone  hardening slightly. “I can’t help but wonder what is so critical that you would kill your own brother just to ask it.”

            Twilight could not stop herself from grinning madly. She removed her glove and held out her symbol-covered hoof. “Do you recognize this spell, Princess?”

            Celestia looked at it. “It is Tartaran in nature…but not all of it. A combination of spells.” She looked up at Twilight. “The last time I saw many of them was when Starswirl the Bearded had created them.”

            “I have studied his work for my entire life. This is the culmination of it.” She held up her hoof. “This is an immortality spell.”

            Celestia took a long look at Twilight. “Immortality?”

            “I have rejected everything that can bring me joy. I will never love, or be loved. I will never again have a friend. Because the only way to achieve this power is to leave such pointless things behind.”

            “Unfortunately, this is true,” admitted Celestia. “My time in the moon taught me that. But you are not immortal at the moment.” She pointed at Shining Armor’s head. “You would not have brought me this otherwise.”

            “No. Because the spell needs a final component.”

            “Which is?”

            “You.”

            Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

            “Only a god can create a god. The spell is complete, but it needs an incredible amount of power to activate. A catalyst. I have considered every possible source, but the only one I have found is the magic of an alicorn.”

            “And if I refuse? You will force me into war with the Crystal Empire?”

            Twilight shook her head. “No. I will leave, and find another way.” She looked into Celestia’s divine eyes. “The choice must be yours. It has to be voluntary.”

            “You realize that what you are asking is madness,” said Celestia. “Why would I give you such power? Even if it is possible, if you did complete Starswirl’s work, I would be creating a rival.”

            “No. You would be creating a disciple.”

            Twilight saw Celestia take a very thin inward breath. That was all she needed to know that she had won. “You would swear your allegiance to me?” asked Celestia. “But your loyalty to Discord- -”

            “Was for my own gain. As is this. I will continue my research under you, and stand beside you as you become the Queen of Equestria. If you will have me.”

            Celestia stared at Twilight for a long time, and Twilight began to sweat, wondering if perhaps she had internally proclaimed victory too early. After several minutes, though, Celestia smiled.

            “I have been looking for one to stand with me. An alicorn to call my student. To enforce my rule as a Princess in my kingdom.” She sighed. “In other words, to replace Luna.”

            “Your own sister?”

            “She is my sister in the same sense that Shining Armor was your brother. She is as disgrace. It is because of her failure that we lost the War. And now she is without the power of the moon. She serves no purpose. I want a mare beside me who has the gall and power to be my equal.”

            “I could never claim to be your equal.”

            “No. Not in your current state. But in ten thousand years? Perhaps. I will teach you, and  you will be my student.”

            “Princess...”

            “I consent to your plan. I like you, and I think I could learn to love you. I will grant you the boon of immortality, in exchange for your eternal allegiance.”

            Twilight bowed deeply, a motion that concealed the toothy grin on her face. “Of course, Princess Celestia. There is nothing in this world that I want more.”    n","se��-9�
> Chapter 33: Mother
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was no way that Darknight could have  known that Twilight had already arrived to the very same castle that he was infiltrating. His path, though, was more difficult. His original plan had been to manifest the dark power that he had used before and either force his way into the castle by force or collapse into mist and move through silently. Although he could feel it growing as he got nearer to Canterlot, though, he could not force that power to the surface. Something within him would not allow it- -either his own instinct, or some feature of that power itself. The more he perceived it, the more Darknight felt that it was somehow alive- -and the more he became afraid of what it would do to him when he finally managed to activate it.

            There were too many guards in the upper part of the castle, so Darknight was forced to move through the bowels below. Canterlot was built on the ruins of Discordalot, and many of the sewers and caves beneath it remained. As a Watcher, Darknight knew those old channels well, and while many were sealed or collapsed, he was able to navigate them and eventually to reach the foundation of Celestia’s castle.

            Moving through was then a matter of his programming. He knew how to sneak, and his dark color made it easy for him to hide in the shadows of the poorly lit basement corridors that were still under construction. This was something he had done countless times before- -but the stakes had never been so high.

            The noncan guards were easy enough to avoid. They were, in many ways, the purest of their kind. They had been made by Xyuka herself, and although that made them the direct brothers of the Stonie series, they could not have been more different mentally. They had absolutely no capacity for thought or rebellion; their brains had been constructed precisely to avoid those features. This means they had no internal volition, or thought. If they encountered something new or unfamiliar, they would pause to come to a consensus with their hive-mind. This made them dangerous in some ways- -that one could instantly inform all of his brothers with a thought- -but also made them easy to avoid in that they were slow and lacked creativity. All Darknight needed to do was follow his training, but do things that were outside of it as well. His ability to be creative was his greatest advantage.

            He maintained a reasonable pace- -at first. Then he encountered a pony that was clearly not a clone: a mare with a long rainbow-colored mane and a cybernetic front leg. She did not pause to interact with a hive mind: as a canon pony and a soldier, she immediately turned her violet eyes to where Darknight had been standing. He barely managed to duck behind a corner to escape her gaze.

            That direction was impossible, and Darknight attempted to recalculate his course. Moving through the castle had given him a general impression of its structure, and he had an idea of where he needed to go. He backtracked through, but soon found himself lost. Not knowing where he was, he entered a large dark room that appeared to be a cistern. Water was flowing from the round walls and trickling down into the pools below. The only light came from the luminescent crystals mounted on the walls.

            “This is not the right place,” muttered Darknight, angrily.

            “Isn’t it?”

            Darknight turned suddenly, bracing himself for an attack. There was another pony in the room, one he had not initially seen in the low light. She was sitting on the edge of the water, watching it flow. She did not initially turn toward Darknight, but as she stood, he saw her wings and horn. Darknight suddenly felt cold and strange. This pony was his enemy- -and yet now he knew that he was derived from her. Even the resemblance was almost uncanny; he could see the faces of all his brothers and sisters in hers, and see their eyes looking back at him as she turned toward him. Although he was prepared for defense, she made no motion to attack.

            “You look so beautiful,” she said. “I never thought I would see you again. Not like this, a grown stallion.”

            Darknight raised his horn, preparing to attack. His goal had been Celestia, but both Princesses needed to die to save Equestria- -but he could not bring himself to kill the progenitor of his species. Not while she was standing there defenseless.

            “Attack me!” he ordered. “Why won’t you attack me?!”

            “Why would I attack my own son?”

            “I’m not your son,” said Darknight, shaking his head and trying to clear his thoughts and remember his mission. “I’m a clone. A copy!”

            “Do you think me an idiot? Or perhaps insane? I am familiar with noncans, and how they are produced. I know very well what you are.”

            “Then you know that I am not New Moon.”

            “Except that you are.” Luna took a step forward, and Darknight took a step back. “I can see it. When I look into your eyes. I see his.” She paused, and Darknight thought he saw her crying. “He was…he was so beautiful. But in so much pain. Every breath he took was a struggle, every second he lived pain- -but he kept living. He held me for as long as he could. Until they took him away from me.” She looked up, and a smile crossed her face. Darknight did not know why it made him feel so sad. “He was a noncan. The first of a long line.”

            “A long line of identical ponies.”

            “No. You are not identical. Can you argue that you have no soul?” Luna sighed. “I am immortal, so I cannot deign to understand the nature of the pony soul. But perhaps yours is his. My New Moon, come back to me. After all this time.”

            “I have to kill you.”

            “Do you?” said Luna, looking up. “Why?”

            “To protect Equestria. I have to protect them.”

            “Who?”

            “The ponies. I cannot allow Celestia to hurt them.”

            “I am not Celestia.” She approached him, and tapped his shoulder lightly with her horn. Darknight gasped as he felt something flow through his body. He looked down to see that his reconstruction scars were quickly fading. They vanished before his eyes. “And hurting you is the very last thing I wish to do.”

            Darknight felt the power from his horn fade. He realized that he was shaking. “I don’t…I don’t…”

            “You don’t want to hurt me. Can you see it too?”

            Darknight nodded. “You are our mother. My mother. How can I bring myself to harm you?”

            Luna stepped forward slowly and wrapped Darknight in a hug. Her body felt cold and strange, but familiar. She felt like every Dark unit, and familiar in ways that made Darknight wonder if she really was correct.

            “But I have to help them,” said Darknight. “I have to save Equestria.”

            “We have the same goal, then,” said Luna. “Tell me. When I gave birth to you, I gave you the name New Moon. What was the name they gave you when you were born a second time?”

            “Darknight.”

            “Then from now on, you will be known as Night. Do you like that name?”

            Darknight pressed his head against Luna’s soft chest. “Yes. Yes I do.”   �To you. T��\��
> Chapter 34: Coronation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of the original seven Watchers, only four remained living. With Rarity’s arrival, all four of them had converged on Canterlot: one, unseen, with no stakes in the outcome, had come to watch. One had come in search of power, and one had been led by fate to reunite with one who he had not realized he needed so badly. Only one remained true to her mission.

            For her, entry had been easy. Infiltration was her specialty; all she needed to do was to change her form to impersonate a servant girl. None among them questioned her presence, because none had any reason to wonder why a servant was walking hurriedly through the castle.

            She knew that Darknight was somewhere in this castle. He had to be- -she knew that he would have at least made it this far. Rarity was just not sure where he would be. Her goal was to find him. She herself was not powerful enough to fight Celestia on her own- -but she also knew that in truth, Darknight was not either. Still, she remained confident that together they would be able to prevail. They would find a way that would allow both of them to depart in peace.

            Finding him would be the challenge. Or, rather, the first challenge. Rarity was so engrossed in trying to process the labyrinthine layout of the castle that she crossed a seemingly empty intersection she almost did not notice the violet unicorn walking away from her.

            Rarity gasped when she saw Twilight, simply because her presence was so unexpected- -and yet made so much sense. Twilight was wearing an almost absurdly lavish dress over silver armor, the sort of thing that Rarity could almost never have envisioned her in.

            Even at a distance, Twilight suddenly stopped. “That magic,” she said, turning slowly. “I’ve felt it before…”

            Rarity did not have time to escape, but she did have time to disrobe and shift. When Twilight saw her, her eyes lit up with recognition.

            “Starlight!” she cried, rushing toward the familiar short-maned pale violet pony that now stood in front of her. “You came! You actually came!”

            Rarity did not break the illusion. She stared blankly, seeming not to recognize Twilight and hoping she had gotten her pupils to look correct enough.

            “They said you left,” said Twilight. “But I didn’t believe them. That was just them trying to undermine me. I was the one who did your surgeries, wasn’t I? I know what your brain is capable of.”

            “Uhhh,” moaned Rarity, as if trying to form a word.

            “There, there. You must just have wondered off. It’s not like you did it voluntarily. But what matters is that you came back, and just in time for my coronation!”

            Rarity stared blankly, but inside she knew that something was horribly wrong. Twilight had betrayed them, and the situation had gotten much more dangerous. Twilight was not a match for Celestia, but she was a lethal necromancer. Fighting her would be more dangerous than either of the Princesses.

            Even worse, though, was the strange feeling that Rarity got from Twilight. Something was wrong with her, and it felt as though an evil force were resonating from her body. Her eyes were flitting around quickly, and she swayed as she stood. Rarity realized that this negative energy was emanating from the scars and tattoos now visible on her hoof. Although she could not risk looking at it directly, she found herself not wanting to- -as though the marks might look back into her.

            “Come on!” said Twilight. “This is going to be the BEST day EVER!” She giggled with odd giddiness. “First I’m going to be coronated, then I’m going to declare myself the heir to House Twilight! I’ll be a Princess, AND I’ll finally have what’s rightfully mine, for all eternity! My spell is complete, and Shining Armor is finally dead…that little bitch.”

            Rarity gasped, but Twilight did not seem to notice.

            “And now that you’re here, I guess that means there are only two living Watchers left.” She paused, considering as she rubbed a silver-clad hoof against her chin. “Hunting them down will probably be challenging. I’m reasonably sure that Darknight was killed at the Gala, but Rarity will be hard to find.” She shrugged. “Not that it matters. She’s useless anyway. She’ll probably be purged with the rest of the canon ponies.” She looked over her shoulder. “But you can stay! You’re already basically dead anyway! I’m sure Celestia will let me keep you around. After all, we have so many more experiments to do.” She leaned in close. “In fact, there is time before the ceremony. Perhaps I should open you up and check your implants? You should not have been able to wander off like that. I’m so very curious…”

            Her magic formed a construct that narrowed into a blade. She pressed it against Rarity’s forehead next to her horn, and Rarity felt it cutting her. Still, she did not react. She stood without moving or reacting.

            “Mage Twilight,” called a voice from down the hallway. Twilight turned to see a guard.

            “What?” she shouted, angrily. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

            “The Princess is ready. She has summoned you for your ascension.”

            Twilight’s scalpel dissipated, and she leapt forward with unbridled joy before pausing, clearing her throat, and restoring a semblance of professionalism.

            “Yes, of course,” she said. “It would not do to keep Celestia waiting. Starlight, come along.”

            Rarity obeyed, following Twilight. She felt relieved that her brain was still intact, but only partially. She still had no idea how to stop Twilight, let alone Celestia. All she could do now was wait until a chance arose- -if one even did.



            Celestia was waiting on the balcony overlooking the city of Canterlot. In the distance, the ruins and rubble of Discordalot were still burning, and she looked upon this, pleased. She was clad in golden armor, the uniform that she would now wear to signify her eternal strength and dominion over the land.

            Twilight entered the room, followed by a group of guards and servants that included one of her own. To Celestia, the mage looked beautiful in her own right. The magic she contained was destroying her, but she carried it with all the poise her position demanded. She was worthy to rule at the side of the Sun, as a replacement to Celestia’s failed sister. Celestia felt her heart beat just a little faster when she saw her. It was the first time in a long time that she had felt exited.

            The procession stopped, save for Twilight, who walked forward. From the rear, Rarity watched, unable to intervene. There were to many ponies around her. In order to sneak in, she had left her armor behind, as well as her weapons- -all she had was her magic. There was a chance that she could strike Twilight with a surprise attack, but there was no guarantee that it would succeed- -and every guarantee that Rarity would be slain when her cover was broken.

            Twilight bowed to Celestia, and the ceremony began.

            “Twilight Sparkle,” said Celestia. “Mage of House Twilight, the last of your bloodline and heir to both the glory and sin of your ancestors. You have come to me to pledge your allegiance to my eternal rule.”

            “I have,” said Twilight, her head still lowered.

            “And I have accepted you, and your repentance. As these ponies and Equestria herself as my witness, I will take you as my student.”

            “And I will stand beside you, my Princess, and shall do everything in my power to assure your eternal rule.”

            “Good,” said Celestia, smiling. She lowered her head and tapped her horn on Twilight’s back. “Then I shall grant you what you desire most.”

            Celestia raised her head suddenly, and the sun above burst into white hot light. Even Rarity was forced to shield her eyes, although no one noticed her breaking character. They were too focused on protecting themselves from the surge of magical energy.

            Celestia rose into the air, her body ablaze with divine energy. Twilight floated upward too, and Rarity could hear that she was screaming. Her scarred hoof reached forward, and the runes glowed, charring themselves into her skin and flesh- -and then burning deeper. With Celestia’s magic, they began to vanish as they were forced inward. The marks on Twilight’s skin left, instead cutting their evil into her soul itself.

            Twilight writhed in agony, and then curled inward into a fetal position. There was a plume of silver blood as bones pushed through her back, exiting the rear sleeves of her dress. With a sickening sound of flesh warping and shifting, a pair of skeletal wings emerge. Muscle quickly grew over them, and then nerves and skin, and finally beautiful violet feathers.

            Then there was a flash that momentarily blinded Rarity. When her sight returned, she saw Celestia and Twilight drift slowly to the floor. Outside, the sun was orange and dim. When Celestia landed, she nearly collapsed. She was shaking and weak, but she still managed to right herself. Twilight, likewise, stood. She was sweating, but still managed to extend her new wings. She had transcended mortality: Twilight Sparkle was now an alicorn.

            Celestia smiled, and she and Twilight turned out toward the view of their kingdom. Celestia lifted a silver crown from a box and placed it on Twilight’s head. “I now pronounce you Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria.”

            Twilight smiled as the crown was set on her brow, and she looked out with Celestia. As they did, a suddenly flash of blue light passed them. Both Celestia and Twilight’s smiles faded, and looks of confusion crossed their faces. Then, in horror, Rarity watched as their heads slid free of their bodies, dropping to the floor. Their bodies stood for a moment, and then tilted and fell lifelessly in opposite direction, both spilling jets of golden blood as their hearts beat for the last time.

            Rarity turned her head toward the source of the spell, and saw Luna standing at the far side of the room, the magic charge from her horn fading as she looked upon her deceased sister. Darknight stood beside her, watching on emotionlessly.

            “You do not need to maintain that disguise, Rarity,” said Luna after a moment. “I know who you are.”

            Rarity did not react at first, but then allowed herself to return to her normal self. One of the guards- -the only one who was a canon pony- -saw this, and it broke him free of the trance of disbelief at seeing his Princess murdered. He turned to Rarity, only to have a hole appear in his chest, put there by Darknight’s magic. His eyes widened, and he fell. The white noncan guards did not react whatsoever. They only watched on disinterestedly.

            “You…you killed them,” said Rarity, looking up at Luna.

            Luna nodded. “I needed to wait until she was weak enough. Creating apotheosis drained her of power.”

            “But- -but you can’t- -”

            Luna looked up, her eyes cold. Rarity immediately fell silent. “She was right, you know. About me being responsible for Discord’s victory. Discord did not escape the Elements of Harmony by some intrinsic element of his being, or from his own magical power. They never fired. And it was my fault.” She stared at Rarity, and her pupils narrowed into vertical slits. “Because I was holding the Element of Loyalty.”

            Her body changed. The black stain on her flank grew and expanded, spreading from her cutie mark to cover the rest of her. Her blue mane extended and lost form, becoming a swirling mass of starry energy. As her body became midnight-black, armor sprang up from her skin, its glowing silver conjured of pure magic. Watching her, Rarity felt the same coldness she had felt when Darknight had turned.

            The pony that stood before her was no longer Luna. She was something else. Taller, more slender, and with no semblance of pity in her eyes. Rarity turned to Darknight, and he looked back at her. He could barely meet her eyes, but he forced himself to do so. Then the blackness covered him too. He did not attempt to resist, and within seconds it had consumed him entirely. He stood beside the pony that had been Luna as a miniature unicorn version of her.

            “Darknight…”

            “His name is Night. And he will rule at my side.”

            “And who are you, then? You are certainly not Luna. Not anymore.”

            The alicorn smiled, showing her pointed teeth. “No. Luna died centuries ago. I am Nightmare Moon.”

            Nightmare Moon walked to the edge of the balcony where her sister’s head lay, and raised her hoof. Rarity winced and closed her eyes as Nightmare Moon brought it down, crushing it with a horrid sound like a ripe fruit bursting open and ensuring that she could never again be resurrected. “And I am now the one true ruler of Equestria.”

            She raised her horn to the sky, and it glowed with black energy. The sun dimmed, and then grew brilliant- -but not with a warm yellow glow. Instead, it became silver and dim. Rarity felt its light, but she felt no warmth. If anything, its glow made her feel profoundly cold. Outside, the blue sky faded into darkness that the new moon could not light. Stars appeared in the sky, more beautiful than any that had been seen since the dawn of Equestria.

            “And my night shall last forever,” said Nightmare Moon as she looked over the world.

            “Do you have any idea what you have done?” asked Rarity.

            “Yes. I have done what I have dreamed about for one thousand years. I have superseded my sister. She was a monster, not worthy of their love. But now they will appreciate what I have done for them. They will love me instead.”

            “The noncans- -”

            “The noncans hold no loyalty to Celestia. They only seek one who will respect them as ponies. And I will. Not every decision my sister made was a poor one.” She took several steps toward Rarity, the metal of her shoes clicking on the floor. Rarity raised her horn, charging it in one last desperate attempt at defense.

            “Don’t,” said Darknight. “There is no point in resisting this, Rarity. This was the only way that Equestria could survive. That we could have peace.”

            “It’s not you saying that, it’s her!” cried Rarity. “Darknight, she is controlling you!”

            “My name is Night,” he said. “And she is not controlling me. There is no need to. Celestia would have burned this world, but without a ruler Equestria would be left in shambles.”

            “He came to me of his own free will,” said Nightmare Moon. “It was his decision and his alone to share my power. To take his rightful place as my son. And many more of his kind will come to me, to rule this world as my children.” She turned to Rarity. “But that means that you too must make a decision.”

            “What kind of decision?”

            “You showed me kindness when no others would. You treated me with respect, even when I was weak and powerless, and without expecting anything in return. You were my friend when no other pony would be. And I wish to repay you in kind.”

            “And what, exactly, do you mean by that?”

            “I mean that you will have a place here, with me. At my side. I cannot rule alone. I need those I trust with me. I already have Night,” she gestured toward the black unicorn on the far side of the room, “but I want you too. A pony who like him will never age or die, but will stay with me forever. So I don’t need to be alone again. You will be given wealth and power if that is what you want.”

            “Why would I want any of those things?”

            “Why indeed.” Nightmare Moon pointed toward Twilight’s body. “That was her undoing. A blind lust for something she could scarcely comprehend. But you are different. Position, then? And not just for you. I will send for your daughter.”

            “Sweetie Belle?”

            “She will be safe, and given a life worthy of the daughter of my viceroy. Education. Safety. Whatever she needs. And she will be with you, as she ought to be.”

            Rarity looked at Nightmare Moon, and then at Night. “There has to be a catch,” she said, turning back to the black alicorn.

            “There is. Because my rule will have a cost. Not to you, but Equestria.” She looked out the window. “Do you feel it? Eternal night will have consequences. The planet is already cooling. It will progress into a new ice age. Famine will be rampant, and many ponies will freeze to death beneath a beautiful sky.” She turned back to Rarity. “I estimate that ninety percent will die in the first year alone. Only the strongest will survive. Canon, noncannon, whoever they may be. Those worthy to be my subjects.”

            “That is horrible!”

            “It can’t be helped!” snapped Nightmare Moon. “There is no other way!” She took a deep breath and calmed herself. “Which is your decision. If you still wish to save Equestria, this is your chance. To challenge me. To challenge US.” She gestured to Night. “And to die here and now.”

            “So to take everything I’ve ever wanted,” said Rarity, “or to die for what’s right.” She chuckled softly. “I must say, that is one hell of a choice.”

            “Make it carefully.”

            Rarity paused for a long time, considering deeply. Time seemed to pass slowly as she thought, and as Nightmare Moon and the pony that had once been Darknight waited for her response.

            Then Rarity lifted her head, and made her choice.