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The Swirling Menagerie Paste 3

By Solanon
Created: 2021-07-16 21:31:33
Updated: 2023-01-16 06:33:40
Expiry: Never
safetwilightsci-filongmy little progressalternate historymulti-part

  1. THE SWIRLING MENAGERIE
  2. PASTE 3
  3. Written by Solanon
  4.  
  5. Continued from ponepaste.org/4272 (Volume I)
  6. ponepaste.org/4285 (Volume II)
  7.  
  8. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
  9.  
  10. ******
  11.  
  12. >It’s six o’clock exactly when the dirigible arrives to port, right on schedule
  13. >You are Captain Rainbow Dash of the Wunderbolts, and today you’re feeling just right about flaunting that title
  14. >Standing here, on one rising marble bulwark of Highstorm Port overlooking the great blue expanse of the northern sky, feeling the high wind blowing through the parts of your mane not shielded in decorative braces, you could almost be alone
  15. >Alone, like you used to be when you had the chance to fly off on your own, sail in the orange clouds of sunset and watch the sky’s beaches break apart and close together
  16. >That is, you COULD feel that way, were you not acutely aware of the evenly filed rank of mares behind you, awaiting your orders
  17. >Lightning Dust, who you know is smirking insatiably without even looking, stands to your right and slightly behind you as your aide-de-camp
  18. >Behind her, in five columns of four, are your Wunderbolts, the elite all-mare W-Division over which Major Thunderlane saw fit to place you in command
  19. >Most of them you know personally from your time at the Barracks; there’s Fleetfoot, Blaze, White Lightning…
  20. >All greenhoofs, of course, none of which have seen true battle with a worthy combatant, but then again, neither have you
  21. >Neither have most of the new wave of PAS warriors, brought up in the new system; only the few lucky ones who performed the raids on Canterian pegasus cities were fortunate enough to get a taste of battle, and you were far too young then to make your bones
  22. >Even still, they’re all worthy fighters, all proven in the disciplines of the Stormwing training program, all ready to face the Canterian menace when the time comes
  23. >For now, however, it’s enough to bring them along on your special assignment directly from General Hurricane
  24. >You woke them early in the Barracks, had them don formal dress, brought them here to stand at attention for the arrival of the Exsilist ambassador
  25. >Hurricane is counting on you to make a good impression with this pony, and you refuse to fail him
  26. >Too much is riding on this encounter, on you learning their true intentions in coming to Pegasopolis
  27. >Hurricane senses foul play in an ambassadorial order from the Cult’s Highmind Empress, and you’re inclined to agree with him
  28. >The nuclear manufactories are in perfect order, as far as you know, and there’s no extant political issues to attend to
  29. >If you yourself had to guess, you’d say that the Cult is coming to ask for the Pegasus Armistice State to become directly involved with their siege in northward Unicronia
  30. >And on one hoof, it’d be good to wet your wings in combat with that Canterian colony; on the other, however, it might be too soon to declare war on Canterium so brashly
  31. >It’d be irresponsible; you know it as well as your father knows it
  32. >Even then…
  33. >If the ambassador SAYS that’s what it is, and that’s why they’re here, then more likely than not it’s really something else
  34. >The Cult of Exsilium’s founding philosophy, after all, is gears turning through the natural order of things, disrupting, always changing shape
  35. >Wheels within wheels, plans within plans…
  36. >You intend to find out what the ultimate plan is, and whether they intend to betray your nation
  37. >There’s no angle to suggest that… or is there, and you just don’t see it?
  38. >”Psst, Rainbow. It’s getting pretty close to port. You think we should greet ‘em at the dock?”
  39. >Lightning, always the helpful observer, whispers the obvious into your ear
  40. “I was… ugh.”
  41. >Always infuriating, when somepony tells you to do something you’re already about to do
  42. >And even though you promised your friend that nothing would change now that you’re technically her superior, you wish she’d show a little bit more deference to your authority
  43. >Just a little bit…
  44. “Wunderbolts! Ten hut!”
  45. >All at once, your twenty mares stomp with their left forehoof, and stand up straight
  46. >They’re all garbed in the same taut, white utilitarian uniform you’re wearing, albeit with slightly less decoration
  47. >All together in formation like this, you feel a sense of pride surging within you
  48. >This cadre flying in as a single unit should make for a sufficiently imposing show of the PAS’s might
  49. “Fly.”
  50. >Forty-four wings shoot out in tandem, including your own, and the sound of it is music to your ears
  51. >You start gracefully off the bulwark, leaping off its edge and plunging down a few feet before gaining the wind under your wings and flying straight forward
  52. >Behind you, you know that each row of Wunderbolts is now following suit, jumping over the edge in perfect sync with one another
  53. >A cloud directly below you, just beneath the chasm separating the upper port from the dirigible’s docking point, shows the proof: twenty-two shadows moving as one
  54. >The dirigible before you is bigger than you expected, and its Exsilist design influence is clear
  55. >Sharp fins protrude from every lateral surface of the rigid balloon, copper inlays glimmer in the morning sun, and most of the fabric is painted an eye-piercing shade of green
  56. >All except for the Cult’s sigil, the silhouette of a pony skull within an eight-pointed gear, its third eye looming large on the ship’s side
  57. >This ambassador wants EVERYPONY to know who they are, and what their business here represents
  58. >As you near your destination, the dirigible groans with every shift of its weight, until finally settling just above the extended concrete “plank” of the port
  59. >There, all manner of smaller flying vehicles—helicopters, ornithopters, corvettes—sit unattended, all overshadowed and dwarfed by this great green monster coming down into an overhead hover
  60. >”They’re gonna crush those things, what are they doing?”
  61. >You cock your head to look at Lightning flying close to you, a visible look of confusion on her face
  62. “Probably just letting the party come down, then docking somewhere else. A balloon that size looks like it takes a while to land.”
  63. >Sure enough, as soon as you finish talking, you spot an aperture opening up in the bottom of the dirigible’s cabin, and a gated platform extending downwards out of it
  64. >The bars eclipsing the platform are too thick to see through; you can’t quite get a good look at its occupants from here
  65. >A trio of wires connects the platform to the interior of the dirigible, and at first glance it might appear to be some sort of rigid landing gear for the flying machine
  66. >Once it touches the smooth concrete of Highstorm Port, however, the platform wobbles a bit, then steadies out
  67. >As this happens, your hooves also touch that same concrete, followed by the gentle landings of each of your Wunderbolts behind you
  68. >You’re only meters away from the caged lander, and through its bars you can vaguely make out three distinct moving shapes
  69. “Looks like the ambassador’s brought an escort.”
  70. >Lightning snorts
  71. >”To be expected. They’d be stupid to trust us.”
  72. “At this stage, certainly.”
  73. >”In general. And on that note, be thankful you’ve got a trustworthy face, Cap’n.”
  74. “Gorgons know you don’t.”
  75. >As Lightning grins to herself, and the last of the Wunderbolts gather around you in tight formation, the gates of the lander swing open, and you’re greeted with…
  76. >What just might be the most terrifying sight of your life
  77. >For all the talk of the mechanical augments and strange genetic self-modifications of the Cult of Exsilium you’ve heard from those who’ve dealt directly with them, you suddenly become immensely aware that you’ve never actually seen it with your own eyes
  78. >Pictures, maybe; but never so close, and never in so much detail
  79. >Here before you, disembarking now from the lander, are three prime examples of that mental disconnect, and you aren’t sure if your training will help you conceal your disgust
  80. >The one in the center, who you assume is the ambassador, isn’t so bad: a light brown earth stallion, with a full mane and two seemingly real eyes
  81. >Metallic tubes run down his throat and out of his ears, and his front hooves, barely concealed by his robe, seem to be artificial
  82. >Another thicker chrome tube coils about his entire body, hugging his robe against his figure; from this angle, you can’t even be sure where it starts and ends
  83. >His companions, on the other hoof, are far more grotesque; taller, thicker with impossible muscle, completely bald, and wearing no clothing to mask any of their deformities
  84. >Sleek armor-like protrusions around their chests and flanks, legs, and necks look to be bolted into place, and cables and exposed wiring snake at ersatz angles beneath plexiglass plating all over their bodies
  85. >Their hooves are metal and fitted with small exhaust pipes, their mouths are hidden behind incomprehensible patchworks of jagged metal teeth, wires, and lights, and their eyes…
  86. >Great Gorgons, their eyes…
  87. >Both the larger stallions’ eyes are pure, jet black, probably artificial implants, and yet when looked into they seem to roll about, scanning, observing, even without any visible movement whatsoever
  88. >It’s like there’s life behind them, but certainly not equine life
  89. >If you didn’t know any better, you’d think these two enforcers were corpses reanimated by the Cult’s meddling with the natural order of things
  90. >While the ambassador is unarmed, these two are practically living weapons; you spot three muzzles each protruding from all different spots, and you’re sure there are many more under the surface
  91. >Other assorted implements, a claw here, an array of hypodermic needles there, pulsing sacs where their… uh… stallion parts should be, also serve to bulk out their silhouettes
  92. >Cautiously, you step forward to greet the ambassador, whose mouth curls up into a grin made of silver teeth
  93. >There’s something about him… something that makes you dizzy…
  94. “Ambassador. I’m Captain Rainbow Dash, of the Stormwing Wunderbolts. I am here on the behalf of General Hurricane, to escort you into our great city of Pegasopolis.”
  95. >”A pleasure, Captain.”
  96. >Even that voice, with a quaint Westerland accent to boot, sounds somewhat mechanical
  97. >It sends chills down your spine
  98. >”I am Time Turner, ambassador to her Excellency, the Highmind Empress of the Cult of Exsilium. And I am delighted, yes, QUITE delighted, to have such a warm welcome. Bloody good display, if I do say so myself.”
  99. >Time Turner, or so he calls himself, gestures with one metallic hoof to each of the enforcers flanking him
  100. >”This is my escort, as I’m sure you’ve surmised. They’ll be accompanying me at all times in the city.”
  101. “If you’re concerned about your safety, ambassador, you’ll be very secure with me and my Wunderbolts around.”
  102. >”Oh, I don’t doubt it. But this is a mere formality, Captain Dash. They’ve come with me this far, after all, so it’s only fair they… see the same sights as I.”
  103. >Only now do you realize how quickly your heart’s beating inside your chest
  104. >Something ABOUT this pony, maybe the way he looks, maybe the way he talks, maybe something else entirely, just screams trouble at you
  105. >Going purely by instinct, you understand all at once why Hurricane thought this task was appropriate for you; he needed somepony he could trust to monitor this freak’s activities
  106. >Who knows what secrets he’s hiding? What’s on his agenda?
  107. >”Now, then… I had hoped to speak directly with General Hurricane or one of his close associates on arriving. Do you know… if he is available?”
  108. “The General is unfortunately preoccupied at the moment. He’s put aside valuable time tomorrow for your discussion on shipment fees. In the meantime—”
  109. >”Tomorrow?”
  110. >The ambassador cocks one eyebrow in a somewhat phony-looking display of confusion
  111. >”I had… hoped, my de—my CAPTAIN, that we would be parlaying today. Meaning no offense, of course, but… had we not scheduled to arrive so dreadfully early in the morning for a reason?”
  112. >That reason is for you to know and this cyborg freak to never find out
  113. >Let loose, ostensibly, in the city, what’s this Time Turner going to do?
  114. >Ask you to direct him to the manufactories?
  115. >Take in the sights of the city?
  116. >Anything and everything he says can be used to your advantage
  117. “There’ve been all kinds of delays in Staatskongress, sorry to say. Moving around resources, preparing for what very well might be our first fight with Canterium in a long time, thanks to your army poking the bee’s nest. You’re not the only one who’s been placed on a waiting list, ambassador.”
  118. >”Of course not. I don’t mean to sound presumptuous or impatient, Captain Dash, you must understand I’ve had a quite long voyage from Unicronia.”
  119. >Unicronia?
  120. “You… came here from Unicronia? Not from New Exsilia?”
  121. >”Naturally. I am a part of the Highmind Empress’ entourage, after all, and she has been in Unicronia for the last week or more.”
  122. >Wait… what?
  123. >That can’t be right
  124. >The Highmind Empress, effective leader of the entire Cult of Exsilium… why would she go to that warzone?
  125. >And more importantly, why weren’t you privy to that movement?
  126. >Either there are gaping holes in the PAS’ intelligence-gathering in the Exsilist sphere, or your superiors haven’t been telling you such things
  127. >You glance imperceptibly over to Lightning Dust beside you; her expression tells you she’s as confused as you are
  128. >Well, if that IS true, then your mission dictates that you find out why
  129. “Your Highmind Empress… she’s in Unicronia? On what business?”
  130. >Time Turner’s eyes gleam as he grins
  131. >On the surface, the smile is welcoming, almost disarmingly warm
  132. >But beneath that layer… this aura about him…
  133. >You wonder if Lightning feels it too
  134. >”Captain Dash, you must understand that I cannot divulge such delicate information to you, a pegasus who, though I’m certain possesses an undying sense of honor, I’ve only just met. The Empress’ reasons are her own; I merely serve as a mechanism of her will.”
  135. “It’s only that I’m a bit vexed I wasn’t informed of this sooner, ambassador. Don’t you think it’s unsafe to have somepony of her importance in the crossfire of the siege?”
  136. >That sours Time Turner’s expression a bit
  137. >He nods to each of his enforcers, and the three of them trot away from the closing lander and around your side
  138. >”I imagine you have transport awaiting us, no? A helicopter, perhaps?”
  139. “Pegasopolis is a city built by and for pegasi. I’ve already arranged for a chopper to bring us in together.”
  140. >”And your Wunderbolts?”
  141. “Will fly beside it in tidy formation. They’re well-trained for this, ambassador. I hope you’ll find in time that you feel safe and at home in their company.”
  142. >”Oh, yes…”
  143. >Before your eyes, the chrome coil wrapped around the ambassador’s body suddenly stirs, then unwinds onto the concrete before snapping upwards into place
  144. >You realize at once that it’s a mechanical tail, long and prehensile, jutting at least two extra meters from his backside in lieu of actual hair
  145. >It winds about and seeks with its ballpoint “head” like a great serpent, seeking out some invisible prey
  146. >Apparently your broad-eyed expression catches Time Turner’s eye, because he throws his head back and laughs
  147. >”It’s scanning, Captain Dash. Scanning for devices that might harm our sensitive electronics. The receiver at the tip there can see in infrared, ultraviolet, radio, you name the range, and pushes it to my interface. I can see the world in all the colors of the spectrum, all the infinitesimal fluctuations that once escaped ponykind’s knowing. I am in all of the world at once. The Cult gave me this power.”
  148. “It’s… impressive.”
  149. >”Yes. Our copter is arriving soon.”
  150. “Hm?”
  151. >Time Turner’s eyes wander above you, his tail following his movements in reverse, and several seconds of awkward silence pass
  152. >Then, after some time, you hear it; small at first, but definitely there
  153. >Over the southward bulwark you and the Wunderbolts had been standing atop moments ago, a dark silhouette moves in a straight line and rapidly grows in size
  154. >You heard it before you saw it, but the helicopter approaching its landing zone only a few paces from here was utterly inaudible when Time Turner pointed it out
  155. >How did he…?
  156. >”Knowledge can be a burden sometimes, Captain Dash. The senses we have are attuned to this world in the capacity nature allowed them for a reason. There IS a balance there, if it can be believed.”
  157. “I agree completely. That’s why our Trust between our two nations is so important now, more than ever.”
  158. >”But the Makers, before their burning Apotheosis to collective godhead, saw a different balance elsewhere. Magic, disgusting magic, the crutch of the unicorn, is cast out of the equation, and technology, glorious technology, replaces it. Nature’s formula for liberating all species, Makers and ponies alike, involves this. So sometimes, the initial balance must be disrupted. Sometimes, augmentation is a necessary curse.”
  159. >A curse…
  160. >That’s a strange word coming from one of these Exsilist self-mutilating technomancers
  161. >Maybe your perception of them is somewhat biased
  162. >Or maybe…
  163. >”I’m extreme in my views, yes. I can tell you wanted to know.”
  164. “They’re not the orthodox I’ve heard from your Cult.”
  165. >”The Highmind Empress thinks me wise beyond my years. Truthfully, I learned everything I know simply from looking. You look to the east, and you see greed and lechery in Canterium. You look to the west, and you see the wastes of Apotheosis.”
  166. “What do you see here?”
  167. >Time Turner’s tail, apparently satisfied with what it sees, slides back between his hindlegs and coils itself around his flanks once more
  168. >But his eyes are looking past you, towards the distant skyline of Pegasopolis Platform
  169. >”Vision. I see vision. Potent, and as of yet unrealized. You want to see Canterium fall, don’t you, Captain Dash?”
  170. “As well as you do.”
  171. >”Then I think we’ll be getting on, the two of us. General Hurricane’s made a bloody good call, placing you on my wing while I’m here. Or… heh, I suppose it’s me on YOUR wing.”
  172. >This stallion…
  173. >You begin to wonder whether you’re cut out for this after all
  174. >You’ve trained in the gymnasium at the Barracks for half your life, you’ve hurdled every obstacle they’ve thrown at you, you’ve become your own fighting mare, live or die for combat
  175. >But this sort of… it’s almost espionage, isn’t it?
  176. >Except there’s this kind of absolute certainty telling you that this Time Turner already knows why you’re here, that you’re not just an assigned security detail
  177. >He knows you’re going to be watching his every move, and he seems to relish the opportunity
  178. >It’s the exact opposite of what you’d been expecting…
  179. >And all of it hinges on this bad feeling you get when he’s close to you; even now, as he strolls away towards the helicopter, while you stand back and watch him, the feeling diminishes
  180. “Lightning.”
  181. >”Hm?”
  182. “Do you feel that?”
  183. >”Feel what, Cap’n?”
  184. “Shut up. That. That… buzzing, in your head. In your hooves. When the Exsilist is close to you.”
  185. >Lightning shakes her head quizzically
  186. >”Not sure what you mean, Dashie. He’s a creep, that’s for sure, but what Exsilist isn’t?”
  187. “I don’t know. I’ve never been so close to one. But I could swear it’s a proximity thing, because now I feel fine. When he’s looking at me like that, it’s like there’s a joy buzzer wrapped around my whole body.”
  188. >”Maybe you’re in looooove.”
  189. >You resist the urge to kick Lightning’s legs out from under her while continuing to watch Time Turner and his posse collect themselves into the grounded chopper
  190. >As he climbs aboard, his bionic tail coils itself around the landing skid, then extends as though boosting him into the cabin
  191. >You wonder if his organic parts are weakened by his reliance on electronics…
  192. “I’m dead serious, Lightning. The guy’s bad news, and you know I can sus out a smokescreen from a mile away. He’s not just here to negotiate; he’s not even here to inspect the manufactories. There’s something else up his flappy sleeve, and if you don’t sense it, I do.”
  193. >”I’m not saying I don’t get a bad vibe from him, Rainbow, but it’s nothing physical like you’re describing. I stand by my original theory.”
  194. “Pff. Screw you.”
  195. >”Captain Dash!”
  196. >You can barely make out Time Turner’s voice calling you from the chopper over the noise of the propeller blades slicing the air in half
  197. >”You are joining us, yes?”
  198. “That’s my cue. Follow close behind with the rest of the Bolts, trusty aide. You’re temporarily in command.”
  199. >”I like the sound of that.”
  200. “Just don’t get—”
  201. >”Too comfortable. Too late.”
  202. >That damned turd-eating grin…
  203. >Without a backwards glance at what you assume are your ranks growing steadily more impatient, you flutter across the gap into the landing zone, boarding the chopper in one fell swoop and landing firmly across from Time Turner
  204. >He’s sandwiched between his two enforcers, and with their mechanical legs tucked beneath them you’re relieved to see that they look very slightly more normal than before
  205. >Still, those eyes and mouths are monstrous sights to behold
  206. >Time Turner himself seems to be admiring a small piece of jewelry wrapped tightly about his right fetlock
  207. >On closer inspection, it’s a small watch, its hands matching those of the great clock tower in distant Avemequus Plaza
  208. >Its outline is blazing gold, and the face is… well, you’re not really sure how to describe it
  209. >It appears to be cut from a fine ruby, the numerals raised from the surface in relief, although that red portion glows ever so slightly with warm electric light
  210. >It’s like a heart… you have no idea where that comparison comes from, but that’s what it is
  211. >A beating heart…
  212. >”Time is our greatest asset and most inexhaustible foe. Don’t you agree, Captain Dash?”
  213. >You remain silent as the chopper bumps about, slowly lifting away from Highstorm Port and bearing southward into the heart of Pegasopolis
  214. >The air beyond the closed cabin seems to howl, and the sky is particularly blue today
  215. “I don’t much play with the philosophical, ambassador. Considering my profession.”
  216. >”Ah, but the soldier is more prone to contemplations of this sort than anypony else, I should think. Life, death, the clock moving from one endpoint to another…”
  217. “We only survive because we DON’T consider things like that. Just how to fight.”
  218. >Time Turner leans in, adjusting his robe as he stares deeply into you
  219. >Like he’s trying to memorize every jagged line of your sclera, the exact shade of your deep dark pupils
  220. >”You are more than that, Rainbow Dash. You are more than a fighter. Surely Hurricane’s daughter knows a thing or two about the higher ideals of the mind, if she is to succeed him one day.”
  221. “So you know my relation to General Hurricane.”
  222. >”I thought it strange you referred to him as such. Not because of the words themselves, mind you, it’s only natural in this circumstance he should be your general, not your father, but… you meant the words, didn’t you? You THINK of him as your general before the word ‘father’ even enters your mind.”
  223. “He is what he is.”
  224. >You’re finding it increasingly difficult to keep your composure across from this stallion
  225. >His effect on you is becoming more and more unnerving with every passing second
  226. >Could he be doing this on purpose? Do the Exsilists have some sort of technology to remotely influence the brain?
  227. >No… it has to just be your nerves
  228. >Relax, Rainbow…
  229. >”To tell you the truth, I anticipated meeting you when I stepped out of my dirigible rather than Hurricane himself. I knew he’d be wary about meeting with me, and I knew he would trust nopony better to carry out his… ahem, ‘diplomatic’ intentions than you.”
  230. >Is your familial relationship with Hurricane really that widely known, even among the Exsilists?
  231. >And you tried so hard to convince yourself that your captainship had nothing to do with it, that it wasn’t your defining feature…
  232. >This pony is mocking you, and you’re not going to take it lying down
  233. “Why am I sensing all kinds of sarcasm around that word? ‘Diplomatic?’ I can personally vouch for my father that diplomacy is chief among his priorities in doing business with you.”
  234. >”And you? What’s your chief priority?”
  235. “To see that your visit to our glorious capital is a productive one, ambassador. Not to mention safe.”
  236. >At that, Time Turner smiles and relaxes his posture
  237. >”The philosophy of the Pegasus Armistice State is an interesting one, I must admit. I’ve read your father’s literature, listened to many of his speeches, and of course I’ve learned much on how the common pegasus thinks in my dealings with your own ambassadors. This ‘niche’ concept… it’s fascinating. Truly, I mean. Here we have the only surviving sentient species on the planet with the inherent capability to take to the skies, and you think of it as filling your corner of the grand scheme, is that right?”
  238. “Effectively. We all have our place in the great wheel. Our loyalty to the Trust is the only thing that separates us from the chaff of Canterium. It’s our patience, discipline, honor, willingness to see the whole of our destinies through.”
  239. >”The end, then? That’s your motivation?”
  240. “Isn’t that what this war of yours is about? This war you’re hellbent on dragging us into?”
  241. >”Ah, but you want the war to take you on, don’t you, Captain Dash? Rather that, than swallow up the scraps that our Cult leaves you when we storm Mons Canteria from the north.”
  242. “Sure. But the more you push right now, and the more you involve us, and ambassador, I’ll say this on my father’s behalf, the more your PRESSURE us to meet your impossible demands for nuclears and the rest of your armaments, the more likely it becomes that the Canterians will come to us before we have a chance to fly at them.”
  243. >”Ahhh, yes. So I’ve heard. Hurricane’s sources in Canterium’s Senatori say as much.”
  244. >Here he goes again, playing with your mind
  245. >Could your father have told the Exsilists what he learned about Chancellor Neighsay’s designs on Pegasopolis? And if so, why?
  246. >Sure, the Trust is a TRUST, after all, but what would telling them now benefit the PAS?
  247. >It’s either that, or the Exsilists’ spies are more omnipresent than you’d hoped
  248. >They could have it out for Hurricane for making the kind of remarks he made about the Cult with you in private
  249. >You wonder whether Hurricane procuring a bodyguard like Bulk Biceps was such a rash decision after all…
  250. >Seems like everypony knows more than you
  251. “It’s just chatter from those Imperialists. They may be sympathetic, but that doesn’t mean they can be trusted fully. What matters now is that we make this Trust as unbreakable as possible. When we’re ready, we’ll fight with you. WHEN we’re ready.”
  252. >”Your father seems to place a good deal of trust in you, Captain, to let you make statements like that so autonomously.”
  253. >You feign a laugh, directing your gaze out the window
  254. >Seated facing backwards from the cockpit, you can see the antennae and landing zones of Highstorm Port receding into the distance
  255. >Soon, the soaring architecture of the city proper will surround you on all sides
  256. “You’re mistaking me for some kind of politician. You’ll be having this exact same conversation with the General; I’m not trying to interface with you at all here, just… making sure you’re prepped to meet with him. Seeing as how the two of us share fairly similar opinions.”
  257. >”Well, politician or not, you’re certainly more eloquent than most soldiers I’ve met. Most of that lot are licentious and a fair bit rough. Doesn’t exactly help that a fair portion of the Cult’s fighting force are common slaves.”
  258. >You remember your father telling you when you were fairly young about the Cult’s rise to power
  259. >How they came out of the Westerlands, seized every fishing village and small town on the northern coast they came across, amassing an army of acolytes
  260. >Those who would not convert were forced into servitude, and those who did weren’t treated much better
  261. >He used to say the biggest difference between the PAS and the Exsilists was that at least pegasi never cracked the whip on those consumed into your metropolis
  262. “I’ll take it as a compliment, you thinking I’m more well-spoken than a fighting slave.”
  263. >Time Turner chuckles, as does one of his enforcers
  264. >Strange; until this point, you’d almost believed they were mutes
  265. >”It’s a fair compliment. I was a slave once, you know.”
  266. “That’s… surprising.”
  267. >”I was taken into the Cult at a very young age. But through the strength of my own desires to serve, I climbed the ranks until I was appointed by the Highmind Empress herself to sit at her council. The Makers valued merit above all else; it’s only natural we should respect that tradition.”
  268. “You’re their cultural successors, after all.”
  269. >”As close as a culture may come. The Wastes hardened the Cult. The cancers that grew in our forefathers’ bodies enlightened them to the condition of the Makers. They CHOSE their destiny; suicide was not an option, it was an inevitability. Whether each individual of their species longed for the bomb or not, their society needed to pass on their traits to us through annihilation. Ponykind are the successors of the Makers, the last spoke in that great wheel. So, I suppose, our philosophies are not so different, after all.”
  270. “Ambassador.”
  271. >You eye Time Turner to see him looking closely into the face of his watch again
  272. >When he hears the sharp tone of your voice, his organic parts twitch, and he turns to stare into you
  273. >Beneath the silence, the rotary blades hum as the chopper tears through the skies above Pegasopolis
  274. >Daybreak has turned to morning without your realizing…
  275. “Let’s drop pretenses. Without any window dressing, you need to tell me why you’re here.”
  276. >The ambassador looks a bit startled when you ask him this, as you expected
  277. >His cold eyes dart about the cabin, to each of his silent enforcers, to your own, then back to that strange red watch
  278. >Then he nods, and the creeping feeling in you grows ever stronger
  279. >This was a gamble, and well outside the parameters of your mission, but just maybe…
  280. >”Time, Captain Dash. We are all of us slaves to time. And yet, without it, we are nothing at all. Still images, fading forever.”
  281. “What I—”
  282. >”Mean to ask? It’s quite alright, Captain. We’re all just rolling into inevitabilities, to and from every trace-point in existence. But I’ve come here to perhaps alleviate you of one of these points. A most disagreeable one.”
  283. >Alleviate?
  284. >No… there’s no way this stallion’s visit will be a beneficial one for the State
  285. >It’s bad news… Hurricane thinks so, and so do you
  286. >He’s hiding something
  287. >”I’m sure General Hurricane’s told you to be wary of my visit. He’s spun a tapestry for himself of some plot amidst our factions to destroy one another come the end of this war, when our common enemy is done for. I am here in a diplomatic capacity, as well as one of oversight; the production of armaments for the Cult here have slowed, and I’ve been tasked with finding out why.”
  288. “You know that’s not the answer I’m looking for.”
  289. >”And you know, Captain, that an ambassador to the Highmind Empress is not to be bullied for information.”
  290. >This is bad
  291. >Any escalation from here very well might result in your brains being splattered against the back hull of chopper by one of the robo-twins here
  292. >But backing down… that’s not in your vocabulary
  293. >The Wunderbolts are tracking close behind the chopper; you could easily signal Lightning to swarm the chopper and arrest these three if things get ugly
  294. >It wouldn’t be good for diplomacy, but at this point you’re ready to acknowledge that you’ve gone too deep
  295. >”And in any case, if you’d been a bit more patient, Captain…”
  296. >The ambassador folds his legs beneath him, the wires lining his robes scattering across the cushioned seat
  297. >The edges of his robe fold up slightly, and you can just make out his cutie mark: a great gilded hourglass
  298. >How appropriate…
  299. >”I was already planning on confiding in you, and you alone, the true nature of my visit.”
  300. >…Yeah, right
  301. >That sounds too convenient to be true, but you’ll play along for now
  302. >You match Time Turner’s posture, letting your wings flutter to rest at your sides
  303. >This uniform’s a bit uncomfortable when you’re not flying in it
  304. >This general atmosphere of discomfort may not be helping that, though
  305. “Well, shucks. Am I really so special as all that?”
  306. >”You’re remarkably special to me. And to the Highmind Empress. If I had not met with you there at the port, I would have sought you out at the earliest possible opportunity. We understand that Hurricane is grooming you to become his successor.”
  307. “That’s… not entirely true. The General has many options when it comes to a replacement, and besides, he’s in prime condition. It’s far from first on our list of priorities.”
  308. >”But, and this is purely hypothetical, my dear, but what if something… unSAVORY were to happen to your father which would necessitate that kind of conversation?”
  309. “Is that a threat, ambassador?”
  310. >”Hm-hm. No.”
  311. >Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpse Lightning’s fire-orange mane peeking around the edge of the chopper’s window as she zooms alongside you
  312. >One signal, and this conversation would be over…
  313. >You’re more nervous now than ever before, but you keep those feelings buried deep within when dealing with these types
  314. >”The Highmind Empress has had what we call a ‘prophetic encounter.’ She has communed with the spirits of the Makers in sensory isolation, using Unicronia’s key cryptogeography, to measure… well, we shan’t get into specifics. But she witnessed an apparition of your father being betrayed by one of his own, and your State falling into chaos because of it.”
  315. “By… one of his own? You mean a traitor?”
  316. >”Or a spy. Somepony who has infiltrated your ranks, or even defected and remained within his confidence to eventually destroy him.”
  317. “That’s ridiculous. You’ll find nothing but loyalty in this place. And while we value your Empress’ foresight, I can’t bring myself to believe in—”
  318. >”Superstitions? Abilities beyond your understanding? Captain, the magic of unicorns has created macabre wonders that mere earth ponies and pegasi like us could never comprehend since the dawn of time itself.”
  319. “And yet you despise them for it.”
  320. >”Only because the technological marvels of the Makers could do all of it, and more. We don’t always deign to know what the Living Machine has in store for us, but if we can merely peel off a layer of it, just a thin veneer… well, just know this: the Highmind Empress has never been wrong about such things.”
  321. “Who could possibly betray my father and think they could get away with it?”
  322. >”I quite surely don’t know. I’ve come here to, among other more extant matters, discover exactly that, and perhaps even warn him when the time comes. Elsewise, my dear, we lose our most prized ally in this war.”
  323. >Time Turner leans in and taps the brace on your forehoof, which you allow him to do only because you want to hear what he has to say
  324. >He lowers his half-synthesized voice to a dreadful-sounding whisper
  325. >”Now YOU, Rainbow Dash, daughter of Bow Hothoof, have full maneuverability in this. You’re with me on your father’s orders; well and good. But you are close with him, which means you can help me investigate everypony else close to him. Not to mention your military connections.”
  326. >This is not the situation you were expecting, at all
  327. >At the moment, every fiber in your being is screaming at you not to trust a single word that comes out of this cyborg’s mouth
  328. >He’s a Cultist, an ally of necessity alone, and even if you believed in his religious technobabble you can’t see any circumstance where he’d tell the truth on this
  329. >An enemy within? It’s a convenient cover for an Exsilist assassin to swoop in and take out Hurricane before he stirs up too much trouble for their eastward ambitions
  330. >But…
  331. >Maybe that’s just your own devotion to this State getting in the way of the bigger picture
  332. >It’s not IMPOSSIBLE that somepony here in Pegasopolis would have it out for Hurricane, but who?
  333. >Who would be so bold? So disloyal?
  334. >So… evil!
  335. >Yes, that’s the only word you can really summon up to describe such treachery
  336. >After everything the State’s done for the pegasi of this continent… who would even have the opportunity?
  337. >Thoughts swim through your head like fish in the shallows, each conflicting with one another, and the cloud of pegasi hovering above Staatskongress enters your mind once again
  338. >Above…
  339. >Who could think themselves so above it all, that they’d butcher everything that was built, will be built?
  340. “Why should I believe you?”
  341. >”My dear, you absolutely shouldn’t. You’ve given me an impression of yourself, one that’s not tricked by the simple palace intrigues with which my kind is so familiar. I’m not here to mislead you, though if I were, you surely wouldn’t know it. So rather than taking me at my word, I’ll offer you this little idea: continue escorting me as normal. Take me to the nuclear production plant today, and to the General tomorrow if he’s available. But whatever you do, and I ask you this as an acquaintance, do NOT tell your father what I’ve told you. His life could be put in ever greater risk if he knew.”
  342. “And?”
  343. >”And, in the meantime, help me solve this other mystery. If it comes up that nothing’s afoot, then I’ll be on my way once all my other affairs are in order. But if I AM right, Captain Dash, I will need your insight. And your ear. That’s all I ask of you. The Highmind Empress’ prophecies can be reversed, but only through direct action.”
  344. >You scratch your chin in a show of contemplation
  345. >You’re still not fully ready to trust this Exsilist ambassador, but if what he says is true, it would be advantageous to both parties if this traitor is rooted out
  346. >Like the Cult or not, the fact is that they’d have no good reason to betray Hurricane at a time like this, when the Trust is most integral; it’s got to be the Canterians
  347. >If anypony’s placed a spy among the upper echelons of the State, it’s that despicable Chancellor Neighsay in his pretty palace on Capitoline Peak
  348. >So you’ve got probable cause, and somepony who would benefit from telling you all this; not to mention there’s no loss in simply playing along
  349. >The decision is made in your mind before you even have time to work out the details
  350. “Alright. I’ll help you. And in exchange, what do I get?”
  351. >”Your father’s life, I would hope.”
  352. “I already have that, ambassador. It’s common practice in pegasus culture to exchange gifts between those who’ve promised themselves to one another.”
  353. >”Then I can assure you the Highmind Empress will be most grateful for your cooperation in this investigation. And I’ve always got her ear…”
  354. “Tell her then, if you don’t mind…”
  355. >In your periphery, the first towering buildings whip past, marble columns and embankments moving too quickly to perceive
  356. >You’ve entered the city; no, the city has wrapped itself around YOU
  357. >Underneath the noise of the chopper, beneath the movement of the air around its sleek black body, you hear a faint ticking
  358. >And even though it couldn’t possibly be so loud, you could swear it’s in time with the second hand of the ruby watch on Time Turner’s hoof
  359. >Moving around and around, forward and on, burning its tempo into your head…
  360. >The electric buzz begins to subside, and your distaste for the pony for you goes with it
  361. >Mostly…
  362. >And for now…
  363. “Tell her my Wunderbolts and I would gladly take to the skies in Unicronia. Tell her we’d be honored to help the Cult see that city burn to the ground.”
  364. >Time Turner’s tail warps upward into a U-shape; it’s almost like it’s grinning along with him
  365. >”That can be arranged, Captain Dash. In time.”
  366.  
  367. ******
  368.  
  369. >Noon, and the sun is directly over the pit, shining yellow down into its darkest depths
  370. >At the bottom, the machine drills have ceased their activity, the workers vacated, the equipment there abandoned
  371. >From this vantage point, pressed by all the ponies in front of you just up to the railing at the lip of the great hole of Site 23, you can look down there, all the way to the bedrock floor, and…
  372. >Something invisible, like ghostly steam, is rising from that place, tickling your nostrils
  373. >It’s a feeling you’ve never known before, in the months you’ve been here, and maybe it isn’t even real, but you feel it all the same
  374. >No matter; your attention’s already diverted back ahead of you, away from the gaping pit, towards the mounds and broken fortresses comprising the “peak” of what was once the Maker’s Fist
  375. >You are Lucky Clover (no no, Shamrock!), and today’s the day
  376. >The day that’s going to determine whether you live to be acquitted of all your past crimes, or die in this desert, a traitor to your nation by your nation’s own will
  377. >Well, maybe not so dramatic as all that, but still; you’ve got a choice to make
  378. >All you can do now is wait for that buzzing sound to stop, for the black chitinous shape of the helicopter that’s been circling above you for the past five minutes to touch ground
  379. >For what’s happening right now, if you could even see over the heads of the rest of the engineering department, who seem determined to keep you from witnessing HIS arrival
  380. >Professor Neigh’s among them, somewhere, probably at the forefront to personally shake his hoof and take all the credit for the great work his team’s done on…
  381. >Well, whatever’s actually going on down there in the subterranean Omega Sector
  382. >And of course, Doctor Caballeron, at whose deranged hooves you thought you’d find yourself meeting your maker last night, is also up there; you recognize the squarish head and relentlessly styled mane even through this crowd
  383. >Truth is, nearly everypony working in Site 23 has gathered here this morning to formally greet the Intelligence Minister himself, Black Bar, to the premises
  384. >He’s here for inspections, top to bottom, that much you know, but what you’re unclear on is the exact nature of those inspections
  385. >Is he culling staff for leaks? If that’s the case, there’s a good chance that you’re already a dead stallion walking
  386. >Has he come for a personal update on the progress being made on the archaeological front? In the places you still don’t have proper clearance to enter?
  387. >Or, and this is your top pick, is he just here to escape Chancellor Neighsay’s wrath until that whole debacle blows over?
  388. >The third option is what Neighsay himself seems to think, judging by his messages… you honestly don’t know how he juggles all these things he’s supposed to be worried about
  389. >But you get the feeling that chief among those concerns is what you’re feeding him from here, which doesn’t surprise you
  390. >Your allegiance to him is one based on mutual trust, and you know he believes you when you tell him that something’s very fishy about this place…
  391. >That train of thought is severed when the helicopter finally angles down towards the earth, and gently descends to the slick landing pad around which the whole facility is cautiously crowded
  392. >Wind from the blades blows into your face even from back here, relieving some of this damn heat
  393. >Up ahead, Caballeron’s mane practically looks like it’s flying off his scalp from the force
  394. >Then, the tracks touch base, and the spinning vortex of the blades slows to a steady halt
  395. >Without that noise, the surface of Site 23 is surprisingly silent, calm, waiting for something important to happen
  396. >And just when you think you can’t wait any longer…
  397. >The door slides open, and out comes Black Bar, whose face you immediately recognize from all the briefing documents you skimmed way back when
  398. >His middle-aged face is speckled with wrinkles; a grisly grin stretches across his muzzle reveals frightening-looking teeth; grey-white hairs encircling that mouth form something resembling a mustache and beard, but are so thin that they barely mask the dark grey of his coat
  399. >All of it is peaked with great big sunglasses that cover his famously discriminating eyes; you’re glad you aren’t faced with them now
  400. >If you had any kind of choice in the matter, you’d steer as clear as possible from him during his visit to this place, but unfortunately…
  401. >”Welcome, Minister! Welcome to Site 23!”
  402. >Caballeron’s voice echoes in the still air, carrying perhaps over the miles of desert that surround you
  403. >You’re at the edge of the great circle of staff all crowded around the helipad, and even you can hear his rugged voice as though it’s right in your ear
  404. >”As you can see, we are all so grateful to be graced with your presence. The whole of the facility’s staff has gathered here to celebrate your arrival. A few in particular have wished to discuss certain matters with you.”
  405. >Rather than speak so loud and grandiose as the Doctor, Black Bar draws closer to him and appears to whisper something in his ear
  406. >Caballeron looks at the Minister rather sourly, then turns away and gestures across the crowd
  407. >”All of you are dismissed! Please, return to your stations now. Except for those of you I am now going to name off.”
  408. >The Doctor beckons one of his equally sniveling assistants to hand him a clipboard, which he grips between his forehoof and fetlock and takes in a deep, audible breath
  409. >”Professor Hanover Neigh, Chief of Engineering and Applied Sciences. Step forward.”
  410. >The professor, who finally distinguishes himself from the mass of white coats crowding your vision, nervously comes forth
  411. >When he turns to come into profile view opposite Black Bar, the green bruise from where Caballeron struck him last night is painfully apparent on his muzzle
  412. >”Diamond Tip, head foreman of Central Digging Operations. Step forward.”
  413. >Across from your section of the crowd, a dark stallion with hard features and a crystalline jackhammer for a cutie mark comes into the central circle and stands next to Neigh
  414. >”Watchful Eye, Chief Surveil—ay, ay. This will take all day. All section heads, including those who report to somepony other than myself, line up!”
  415. >About a dozen ponies, all garbed in different uniform trappings, approach the helipad from the masses and form a single file line which warps about Black Bar as though he’s the center of their orbit
  416. >”Everypony else, you are dismissed. Go back to work.”
  417. >Perfect
  418. >You’d been relishing this opportunity, wherein both Caballeron and Neigh were occupied in a known location other than the labs
  419. >It’ll give you a chance, however slim, to get into Neigh’s private laboratory and see if you can snap some glamor shots of those documents
  420. >You know three important things now: first, that the documents Black Bar made such a fuss about to Neighsay last week aren’t just a red herring; they really exist, they’re right here on-site, and they contain valuable information about Omega Sector
  421. >It’d be better if you could slip your way down into the Omega tunnels yourself, but as of yet you haven’t been gifted with that chance
  422. >Second, Caballeron’s hiding something from Black Bar, else he wouldn’t have tried to convince him not to come here over the phone last night
  423. >There’s an angle there, if you’ve got the guts to play at the big colts’ table and gamble your secret identity against Black Bar
  424. >Third, and probably most important of all, the inspections Black Bar will be running here won’t involve you, as your official station here is as an inquiry officer
  425. >But the ponies he WILL be interviewing should all have high enough clearances to merit his notice AND hold substantial documentation on the topics that the Chancellor is ever so interested in
  426. >Ergo, you take careful note of the faces of the section heads Caballeron is now pulling out of the crowd; any one of them might be the key to success
  427. >But getting close to them… how’s that going to happen?
  428. >Best slip away now and get down to the labs to check at least one bullet point off yo—
  429. >”Officer Shamrock!”
  430. >You freeze
  431. >The whole of the excavation site fills your vision, the steel stairs leading down to its highest tunnel right in front of you, but you can’t…
  432. >You can’t reach it now…
  433. >”Where are you, Officer Shamrock?”
  434. >You grimace, turning to face back into the center of the circle and raising your hoof above the heads of the shifting engineers
  435. >Caballeron looks pretty pissed that you’re so far back, but he gives you time to shuffle through the mass and towards the helipad
  436. >The sea of whitecoats parts for you, and soon you’re standing mere feet from the Intelligence Minister, this…
  437. >This stallion whose gaze, even masked by shades, tells you he can see right through you
  438. >Your insides are icy cold despite the heat
  439. “S-sir?”
  440. >”Minister, regrettably, the chief inquiry officer Comet Tail took ill last night. This… ugh… assistant officer will be taking his place for our purposes. No es correcto, Senor Shamrock?”
  441. “Y-yes, sir. Of course.”
  442. >This is bad
  443. >REALLY bad
  444. >Not just because it’s getting in the way of your quality alone time with Neigh’s laboratory, but because being this close to Black Bar…
  445. >You know he can’t possibly know who you really work for, but that laser stare, that knowing grin, tells you the exact opposite
  446. >Celestia above, just stay calm, stay calm…
  447. >You’re a hacker, for whinny’s sake, you’re not freaking cut out for this
  448. >”Officer… Shamrock, is it?”
  449. “Yes, sir. I mean, yes, Minister. That’s what it says on my security badge.”
  450. >”Pendejo!”
  451. >Black Bar chuckles, patting you on the wither
  452. >”No, Doctor, it’s alright. I like your style, Shamrock. And I’m a fan of that jumper.”
  453. “Th-thank you, Minister.”
  454. >Caballeron silently shakes his head and redirects his glare to the rest of the section heads
  455. >”Gentlecolts, the Intelligence Minister will be taking a tour of each of your departments. You will be his trusty guides. He will ask you questions. You will answer them, fully and honestly. Everything you say to him, he will repeat to me when this is over. Comprende?”
  456. >Everypony in the semicircle nods their reluctant agreement, prompting Caballeron to skulk into the gathered crowd and back towards the primary excavation site
  457. >As the rest of the facility’s staff follow suit, leaving only you, Black Bar, and the other section heads standing on the surface, the desert begins to feel infinitely vast to you
  458. >Around you, the remains of ancient Maker fortification structures line the pit, speaking of centuries of internal conflict
  459. >Beyond that, the northward expanse extends miles of flat lifelessness towards the southern border of Canterium proper, the strange but beautiful Celestial Mounds
  460. >For now, though, you can’t take your eyes off of Black Bar, who leads the march of the gathered ponies to an alternate path into the site
  461. >”Officer Shamrock?”
  462. >You snap to attention as the Minister beckons you to catch up next to him
  463. >It’s a good thing you’ve gotten better at responding to your alias over the course of your time here; you’re certain somepony as perceptive as Black Bar would detect a delay
  464. >You quicken your pace from the back of the crowd to join him at the front, just as the whole of you reach the eastern stairwell jutting up from the earth
  465. “Minister.”
  466. >”Your boss, Comet Tail, is a correspondent of mine. Give him my regards, won’t you? Tell him I hope for his speedy recovery.”
  467. “I can do that, Minister.”
  468. >”Now, son, on the matter of internal affairs… we share a common interest here, you and I. We both want to see this place in tip-top shape, don’t we?”
  469. “Th-that we do, Minister.”
  470. >The shadow of the pavilion draped across the stairwell falls over you, and Black Bar removes his sunglasses to accommodate
  471. >The flat gray eyes behind them remind you of a dragon’s eyes, ready to consume its prey
  472. >Not that you, or anypony alive for that matter, has seen a dragon…
  473. >”Inquiries is one of the most important pillars of CI, Officer. It allows us to keep tabs on ourselves, something most of the ministries of this fine nation of ours are either too afraid or simply don’t care enough to do. Now, I imagine you’ve done a fine job so far, keeping an eye on some of the budget concerns, resolving interpersonal issues… all of us back home at Mons are very proud of you and your team, what you do here.”
  474. >Screw you, you old goat
  475. “Thank you, Minister.”
  476. >”However, I’m sure you’re aware of why I’ve come here. Has Caballeron been quite… transparent, on that matter?”
  477. “To my understanding, you’d like to take over for me, Minister.”
  478. >Black Bar grins at that, letting out a restrained but somehow… fatherly chuckle
  479. >That’s scarier than anything you’ve observed about him thus far
  480. >”Yes, yes… in a sense, yes. There come times when I grow tired of the city, and I think to myself, I think: ‘What’s the best vacation spot for a weary old pony like myself?’”
  481. “Our little hole in the desert, I’d imagine.”
  482. >”Site 23, the Maker’s Fist, well… whatever you want to call it, son. It’s one of our country’s most important assets right now. Tell me, what’s your clearance level?”
  483. “Currently Level 3, Minister. But I intend to rectify that very soon.”
  484. >”A go-getter, eh? I like that quality in a CI stallion. Level 3, so let’s see… your haunt’s the upper laboratories, no?”
  485. “Mostly. My job requires a fair bit of moving around.”
  486. >”Caballeron works you fellas too hard. Grinds you down to the bone. Then you’re not aware, Officer Shamrock, of what goes on in Omega Sector?”
  487. >Omega Sector?
  488. >What’s he implying, asking you a question like that, at a time like this?
  489. >Once again, it takes all the effort you can muster not to break out in a cold sweat and confess to everything
  490. >This is damn well NOT what you signed up for, getting grilled by the head of the whole damn Ordo!
  491. “I… no, Minister. Not especially.”
  492. >”Well then, you’re at least aware of why this installation was originally important?”
  493. “Sure. You’d have to be brainless not to know that. The New Maker’s Handbook was discovered here, Minister.”
  494. >”Under hundreds of feet of rock. In a chamber locked deep underground, undisturbed by ponykind for over six hundred years. Just around the time the Makers vanished into dust, as it happens.”
  495. “The war reached as far as this place, Minister?”
  496. >”Perhaps. We ponies have no way of knowing, of course. It was so long ago, so far away from our sphere of knowing… they’d withdrawn themselves completely from us by that point. But what we do know now is all that they left behind, all their glorious inventions, their microprocessors, their motorized carriages, their… everything. This light.”
  497. >Black Bar gestures up to the roof of the subterranean staircase you now descend, where an electric lightstrip hangs suspended by its own power cable
  498. >”This light, which would’ve taken us so long otherwise to realize. Gone are the days of gas bulbs and candles, poof, gone, overnight, fifty years ago. Replaced by everything we have now, the decadence, the opulence. All centered around this place this… hole in the desert, as you so lovingly called it.”
  499. “Sorry, Minister.”
  500. >”Nothing to apologize about, son. But the work that’s being done in Omega Sector, well… can you keep a secret?”
  501. >You wordlessly nod, prompting Black Bar to lean in and expose to you full-face those terrible discerning eyes
  502. >”It very may well just win us this war of ours.”
  503. >This is…
  504. >You only wish you were in a position to pry further into a statement like that
  505. >If you could learn what he meant by that, and relayed it to Neighsay, you might be shipped out of here in no time!
  506. >Win the war… are they building some kind of weapon down there?
  507. >Is THAT what all those supercomputers were for?
  508. >And if so, why would they be keeping that knowledge from the government?
  509. >No… Caballeron and Neigh were discussing something called Dream, something to do with alpha waves…
  510. >Celestia, you’ve got to get into that damned lab…
  511. >And now’s the perfect time: all eyes on Black Bar, Neigh trailing right here behind him, Caballeron hiding in his office, everypony else just watching their own flanks
  512. >If you could just give Black Bar the slip, you could—
  513. >”So, Officer Shamrock, I understand you’ve just recently begun work here in Site 23.”
  514. >And just like that, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight into the air
  515. “Y-yes, Minister. A little less than three months.”
  516. >The staircase widens and gives way to the first level of the main atrium of the site, where the surveillance station hangs like a crane over the deep cavity
  517. >Across the chasm before you, around a half-bend of the ring bridge circumscribing this level, is the entrance to Alpha Tunnel, and by extension the massive multiplex below
  518. >Black Bar seems to be leading his flock in that direction
  519. >”And your next line, of course, is ‘how does the Minister of all of Ordo possibly know that about me?’”
  520. >N-nani?
  521. “I just a-assume you know everything about everypony, Minister. If anypony in this world’s omniscient, it’s you.”
  522. >”A fair assumption, son. Heh-heh. But I DO, in fact, know most of what there is to know about everypony who works specifically here, at this site. And that is only because I consider it so invaluable to our war efforts.”
  523. “If I could ask a ridiculous question, Minister, what’s so invaluable about this place anyway? I understand its history but…”
  524. >Before you can even finish your sentence, the Minister smirks and gestures to his cutie mark, a great big black rectangle that looks painted by ink over some hidden classified word
  525. >”That, Officer, is a question for my flank. Ordo Intelligentia pride ourselves on opacity, and Cognitio Incognitus, well… you’re our most secretive division.”
  526. “Of course, Minister. I… think I knew when I asked what you’d say.”
  527. >Black Bar nods in agreement, then wheels around to face the rest of the section heads who have begun to lag behind
  528. >”Keeping up then, you all? Alright. The reason Doctor Caballeron has been so kind as to grace me with each of your presences is because I’d like to spend some quality time with each of you, today and tomorrow. You’ll be given set times where you’ll come and meet with me in the good Doctor’s office, and we’ll just sit down and chat. Very informal, I assure you, and it won’t take long at all.”
  529. >The grey stallion moves to the edge of the ring bridge, surprisingly nimble for his age, and beckons the rest of you to join him there
  530. >Gradually, Professor Neigh and the rest all line up against the railing and peer into the depths of the dig site
  531. >”After all these years, we are digging. Digging with finer equipment, government-funded equipment, after all, that’s why Ordo took over the excavation in the first place… but we’re digging here, and in all the CI sites across Canterium, because we are dedicated to discovery. Dedicated to tracing out our heritage, that of the Makers, that of… well, you get the idea. When we talk, gentlecolts, we’ll talk about all the good work you’re doing here to secure the future of Canterium. Some of you may think, and I’ve gathered this from talking with young Shamrock here… some of you may have the idea that this place isn’t all that important. A mere hole in the desert. Well, friends, that couldn’t be further from the—”
  532. >Black Bar pauses his grand speech for a moment and grunts, squinting down the shaft of the atrium
  533. >You follow his gaze to see a helmeted pony you’ve never seen before galloping at top speed across the bridge one level below you
  534. >He races into the burrow of Beta Tunnel across from you, only to emerge a few scant moments later from Alpha Tunnel’s entrance
  535. >He must’ve cleared those stairs at record speed
  536. >Frantic eyes locked on your group, the stallion runs around the circumference of the first level and skids to a halt only feet from Black Bar himself
  537. >Then, he tries to speak
  538. >”Minister Bla… guh… Minist… ugh…”
  539. >”Out with it, son. Collect yourself first.”
  540. >The helmeted, lanky pony does as told, taking in a few deep breaths before trying again
  541. >”Minister Black Bar… Doctor Caballeron urgently calls for your presence in Omega Sector.”
  542. >What? Omega Sector?
  543. >The Minister’s only just arrived…
  544. >”Pardon? Caballeron is quite—”
  545. >”Professor Neigh. You as well, sir.”
  546. >The white-coated and bruised pony seems to regard the newcomer for the first time at the mention of his name
  547. >”Ahem. What’s the meaning of this? On what grounds does the Doctor have to pull me away from—”
  548. >”It’s the… the thing, sir. The… you know.”
  549. >”No, I DON’T know what, and if you interrupt me again—”
  550. >”He says it’s detected something!”
  551. >…
  552. >Silence, but for your own thoughts
  553. >Detected? Is this what Black Bar was talking about?
  554. >Is this to do with the supercomputers?
  555. >This stallion must be high clearance, seeing as how you’ve never even seen him lurking around your own pitiful territory
  556. >Spends all his time down there, in the bowels of Omega Sector deep underground
  557. >What you’d give to just get a peek of what they’re doing down there…
  558. >”I mean… sir. The whole thing’s going—”
  559. >”Yes, I heard you! For Celestia’s sake, get yourself together! You should know better than to discuss such things in mixed company! Minister Black Bar, sir…”
  560. >”I’m aware, Professor.”
  561. >Black Bar returns his attention to you and the rest of the huddled, confused section heads
  562. >”Well, gentlecolts, seems our time here has been cut short for now. But you will be receiving timecards for your expected evaluations with me, and I will want some modicum of preparation... informal as it may be. Dismissed, all of you. Lead the way, son.”
  563. >Together, the three of them, Black Bar, Neigh, and the unknown stallion, all hasten towards a different, protracted tunnel, one that you know ends in an elevator that leads directly down into the lower levels
  564. >Leaving you utterly bewildered and uncertain as to what to do next
  565. >Sure, you’ve got free reign to slip into the labs now that Neigh is occupied, but you’re almost more tempted to try and follow them down there
  566. >No, it’s impossible; no matter what “problem” they’re solving down there, no matter what the grand secret to this whole affair is, the reason Chancellor Neighsay installed you here in CI was to passively observe and report
  567. >Not to go on life-or-death missions into Omega Sector, tempting as that may be
  568. >You’ll never see with your own two eyes what they’re using those supercomputers for, or what the hell this “Dream” is; all you can do is give Neighsay enough solid material to wrest control from Ordo
  569. >From his tone in the last message he sent you, you could almost think he sees Ordo as a bigger threat than the Cult of Exsilium, if that’s even possible
  570. >And why not? An enemy on the battlefield is one that’s easy to fight, but an enemy within…
  571. >You nod to the other section heads, all of them clearly as disoriented as you, then race across the adjoining bridge into Alpha Tunnel
  572. >When you spot the lift down to Theta, you skid to a halt and scramble into it as inconspicuously as possible, pressing the floor key and letting the doors slide smoothly shut
  573. >You’re on a time limit now; you’ve got no idea how long it’ll be before somepony goes snooping in the lower labs, but that doesn’t mean you should draw undue attention to yourself
  574. >After all, it’s the second time in two days you’ve pulled a stunt like this, and this time you’re resolute about getting concrete data
  575. >None of this he-said she-said rumormill bullcrap; you want documentation
  576. >Evidence, to pass along to your benefactor
  577. >When the doors open again, you’re already across from the labs, yet the tunnel beyond has gotten danker, darker, less developed than the surface
  578. >The corrugated metal lining the walls and ceiling up there have been replaced with sheer rock in this lower passage connecting the maintenance point to the engineering labs
  579. >Neigh’s private lab is on this floor, and you’ve got a plan for getting in
  580. >You walk calmly down the hall, nopony but the omnipresent security cameras to trace your movement into that cluttered space
  581. >Bulbs become brighter as you approach, walls turn from earth-brown to painted white, and the stray equipment from yesterday has been neatly removed from the hallways
  582. >Tip-top shape for the Minister, eh?
  583. >Without threading through boxes, dollies, shovels, and the like, it’s a much easier trip to that sealed circular door you pressed your ear against last night to hear what you needed to hear
  584. >It’s locked, of course; it’s protected by a Level 4 access portal and a six-digit numeric pad
  585. >You, however, took the liberty of devising a much easier means of entry
  586. >Now normally, access cards give off distinct magnetic signatures when swiped through these portals
  587. >Every card of every level has a specific encoded format assigned to that level, plus an additional string which distinguishes it from all others of its level
  588. >In this situation, your card is useless; it hasn’t got the general Level 4 access signature (even though it could if you were crafty enough to clone somepony else’s) and even if it did, you can only assume that this particular door is coded to Professor Neigh’s personal string
  589. >You need both to gain legitimate access to this lab
  590. >Legitimate, that is
  591. >You direct your attention to the small ventilation shaft to your left, positioned near the ceiling and running directly into the lab
  592. >It’s too small by far to squeeze through even if you could climb into it, but that isn’t what you have in mind
  593. >Instead, you recheck your surroundings to make sure you saw right the last time you were here: indeed, the one camera pointed at this door is the old type, the kind they used before the renovations
  594. >It feeds into the local drive on this floor which is later collected BY HOOF and transported up to surveillance records
  595. >So as long as you can get to that room and erase the footage of what you’re about to do within, say, forty-five minutes, this next part shouldn’t be an issue
  596. >A simple enough task, far simpler than what you’re about to do
  597. >Standing straight up on the very tips of your hindlegs, you use your multitool to unscrew the vent cover
  598. >Then, fishing some blank card sheets out of your flank pocket, you crumple them together and prime your makeshift overcharger next to them
  599. >A few seconds later…
  600. ZZZZIP
  601. >Static arcs across the gap, and you’ve got yourself a little ball of flaming paper, which you promptly insert into the open duct and cover from your side with another sheet of paper
  602. >Now, the auto-doors in Site 23 are security-prioritized; if all the power in the facility were to short at once, they’d default to shut, not open
  603. >But in the case of a fire or other emergency that would require evacuation, the doors open and the alarms go off
  604. >Of course, you don’t want any banging klaxons alerting anypony to your presence here, and in the case of a false alarm those klaxons won’t activate with the press of a manual override switch located near each door
  605. >Within about three seconds of detection…
  606. >In summation, well… you can only hope this doesn’t literally blow up in your face
  607. >Pressing the paper seal tight against the open vent, hoping to Celestia that there’s smoke on the other side, hoping even harder nopony rounds the nearby corner and sees you standing on your hindlegs like a total jackass…
  608. FWOOOSH
  609. >There goes the door
  610. >Lightning fast, you throw aside the cover sheet, reach into the vent and retrieve your flaming paper ball, kicking it through the now open circular aperture
  611. >In one fluid motion, you clutch the door rim and swing yourself around and into the lab
  612. >Yellow switch yellow switch yellow switch…
  613. >Yellow switch! There!
  614. >Your foreleg practically flies out of its socket to punch the override switch inside the door, and then…
  615. >No alarms
  616. >Not a peep, not a blare, nothing
  617. >As the door slams shut behind you, and the flaming ball gradually shrivels into nothing, you feel your heartrate drop substantially
  618. >You freaking made it!
  619. >And in three seconds flat, no less
  620. >Now, you sit facing the collection of tables, shelves, scattered codes, racks, chemicals, beakers, graduated flasks, thermometers, spectrometers, and stacks on stacks of heavily used books that compose the private lab of Professor Neigh, Ph.D.
  621. >Time to get busy
  622. >You start with the tall shelf to your left, rummaging through the various unmarked bins to no avail
  623. >There are no cameras in here from what you can see, so as long as you put everything back where it belongs you should be golden
  624. “Juicy little tidbits… where would I keep them?”
  625. >Then it’s on to the desk drawers, the filing cabinet, the overflow pile
  626. >But as far as you can tell, all they contain are reports, studies, and procedures from upper level research; nothing having anything to do with Omega Sector
  627. >You begin to wonder if this venture was pointless…
  628. “Neigh… you lanky clod. Where are those papers?”
  629. >After all, you KNOW you heard Caballeron bring them up last night in this very room!
  630. >For all you know, he was waving them around like wild while beating on the poor downtrodden Professor
  631. >So where are they? Where’s the black book, the real good stuff, the stuff they’re keeping from the Chancellor, from the rest of the government?
  632. >Then, suddenly, hoofsteps
  633. >Hoofsteps coming out of the far wall, coming towards the door
  634. “Damn!”
  635. >This is a dead end! They have to be coming in here!
  636. >But it couldn’t be Neigh… could it?
  637. >As quickly as before, you leap behind a table and cram yourself into a tall cabinet filled with various technical equipment
  638. >It’s far from roomy, but you’ll manage until…
  639. >Wait
  640. >What’s that?
  641. >Just above you, barely visible through the thin bars of a hidden shelf, is a sealed plastic bag containing a stark black manila folder
  642. >If that’s not sinister, you don’t know what is…
  643. >Not to mention the fact that whoever just approached the door seems to be showing no signs of entry; somepony lost, perhaps?
  644. >Now that you think about it, they almost felt more like tremors than hoofsteps
  645. >Well, it doesn’t matter now; all that matters is that hidden folder
  646. >You carefully slide one hoof between the shelf and the cabinet’s back and pull the folder out of its hiding place
  647. >Then, as noiselessly as possible, you crawl out of your hunched position and place the folder squarely on the table
  648. “Now, let’s see…”
  649. >Just take it out of the bag, open the flap, and the inside…
  650. “Hrm.”
  651. >Is interesting, to say the least
  652. >The title page of the document reads “GLUONIC SUBSTRUCTURE OF OUTER ■■■■ HULL
  653. >The black ink stripe catches your attention right off the bat; clearly this is for certain eyes only
  654. >Turning the page, you find what appears to be tables of chemical compounds and molecular diagrams, though nothing like what you’ve ever seen
  655. >Lots of mentions of ■■■■■■ chains… and what the hell is chromodynamics?
  656. >Or chiral undrilling, for that matter?
  657. >You whip out the micro-digital camera from your pocket and begin snapping shots of every page, scanning for any mention of alpha waves
  658. >You find a sole mention on page 14 of the dossier under the header “QUANTITATIVE AND QUALITATIVE HARMONIC RESPONSES” though it’s pretty difficult to decipher:
  659. [Initial discovery of the effects of biologically-driven alpha waves on the ■■■■ was documented on ■■■■■■■■■■■■, when researcher ■■■■■■■■ fell asleep at their workstation in Sub-Chamber ■■■■■ and began to experience proto-prophetic dreams involving ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■. Scans of the occipital lobe of ■■■■■■■■ after the fact revealed ■■■■■■■■■, as well as ■■■■■■■■■■■■. The chemical analysis of the ■■■■ hull revealed that the permeation rate of frequencies in the range of naturally neuroharmonic waves in a relaxation environment was nearly ■■ times the permeation rate of any other tested range. However, artificially-produced frequencies of this range reveal a permeation rate on par with previously (inadequate) tested solutions. Furthermore, single-harmonic alpha wave emittance from single biological contact revealed a permeation depth of only approx. ■■ cm. And, of course, the issue persists that direct penetration of the ■■■■ remains impossible. Recommend increasing radiation strength by proceeding with orders of]
  660. >And then nothing at all
  661. >Orders… orders of a pony?
  662. >Or, and this could be interesting… orders of a product?
  663. >Supercomputers, perhaps?
  664. >Whatever they’re building down there, and you’re certain they’re building something, it’s got something to do with dreams, penetrating of a “hull” of some sort, and these chemical compounds
  665. >Or… are they chemical at all?
  666. >They almost look to be something entirely beyond the periodic table
  667. >Maybe this is that strange alloy you heard those scientists discussing!
  668. >Whatever they are, you’ve captured them all in slick digital format, ready to send to the Chancellor as a full package over satlink
  669. >You finish up photographing every single page of the dossier, then smoothly replace it into the exact position you found it in
  670. >Once that’s done, you get to work hastily cleaning up the mess you made in here, when a stray thought suddenly occurs to you:
  671. >Wouldn’t it be funny if the “detection” that stallion upstairs was panicking about also had to do with this?
  672. >You have a feeling that you’ll never know the answer to th-
  673. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
  674. >In a split-second, you’re on the floor, ducking reflexively
  675. >What… the hell… was that sound?!?!?
  676. >Sounded like a damn atom bomb going off, and you’ve seen the test footage; you know what that sounds like!
  677. >You’re a hundred feet underground, too; if that was on the surface, then…
  678. >Dear Celestia
  679. >Without even bothering to finish your spring cleaning, you race towards the door and out into the hallway
  680. >A flock of whitecoats race past you, but they pay you no mind at all
  681. >They all seem to be headed outside, just like you
  682. >Up the stairs, up more stairs, up towards the sky, towards the lip of the atrium
  683. >All to find out what the hell that noise was
  684. >If it WAS an atomic bomb, it was probably too quiet to be within lethal distance, but even still you’re pretty concerned
  685. >Have they resumed testing? No, that’s ridiculous, not without telling the ponies on-site about it!
  686. >What, then?
  687. “Hey!”
  688. >You bark at one of the engineers, who regards you mid-gallop
  689. “What’s going on? What was that noise?”
  690. >”H-haven’t you heard? All the instruments are going fr-freaking haywire!”
  691. >Instruments?
  692. >In only a few minutes, you’ve cleared the vertical space from Phi Tunnel to Alpha Tunnel; now that you think about it, you could’ve taken the elevator, but it almost seemed dangerous for some reason
  693. >Now you’re cramped, just like before, between dozens of other workers all clamoring for a spot at the front of the pack, all looking to ascend the final staircase to the surface to see…
  694. >Something
  695. >What?
  696. “Hey! Out of the way, O-officer on spot, out of the… get away!”
  697. >They’re rolling around you, crushing you
  698. >Burying you…
  699. >But in time, you’re climbing those corrugated stairs again, surrounded by countless others doing the same, all reaching for the electric lights dangling down, all looking at the impossible brightness coming out of the end of the tunnel
  700. >The surface is blazing yellow now, from this angle
  701. >Just a few more steps, you’re almost there, keep breathing, and…
  702. >…
  703. >It’s in the north
  704. >Minister Black Bar and Caballeron are standing to your left, but you barely even notice their presence
  705. >You, them, all the rest, all of you are looking into the north, past the fortifications and the flat, barren Badland desert
  706. >The Celestial Mounds, miles and miles to the north, are on fire
  707. >No, not fire; it’s blazing yellow, that’s for certain, but it’s all focused on one spot, one plateau in the middle of all those rocky hills of death, like a miniature sun come to the earth
  708. >A sun, almost as bright as the one directly above your head now, glimmering bright, but lacking any of the other features of an atomic explosion, or any sort of explosion for that matter
  709. >What’s more, there’s this… feeling, in your mind… it’s scarily warm
  710. >Terrifyingly pleasant
  711. >”…sensed… don’t you think?”
  712. “Huh?”
  713. >You find it in you to turn your head, focusing on those words you could barely hear over your own thoughts
  714. >Black Bar spoke them to Caballeron; they haven’t even noticed that you’re standing right next to them
  715. >”Undoubtedly. Same coordinates, same… we should send a unit.”
  716. >”Do it. And don’t speak a word of this to the Senatori.”
  717. >”Understood, Ministro.”
  718. >Through the sudden, resounding silence, Caballeron’s voice pierces the heavens
  719. >”Oye! Get back to your workstations! It’s a controlled missile test launch, nothing more! Everypony, back down under, now! Everything is proceeding normally, nopony is in danger…”
  720. >The Doctor’s voice trails off quite unconvincingly as he scurries back down the stairs alongside Black Bar, back into the depths of Site 23
  721. >You, for your own part, pat your pocket to make sure your camera is still bouncing in there
  722. >The first thing you’re going to do when you get down to Theta Tunnel, back to your hidey-hole, is write a lengthy summary to the Chancellor about what you saw and heard
  723. >Not to mention sending him every last page of Neigh’s dossier; maybe the Chancellor’s goons can make more sense of it than you can
  724. >All in all, one thing is abundantly clear as you follow the reluctant crowds back to their posts, away from the burning golden light that even now blazes over that great historic plateau…
  725. >Not even Ordo would launch a missile at See Rock…
  726.  
  727. ******
  728.  
  729. TWO HOURS EARLIER…
  730.  
  731. >”There! Look, Applejack, look!”
  732. “I see it. Mater almighty, that’s a steep slope.”
  733. >You are Applejack, the unluckiest pony on earth
  734. >In the space of a week, you’ve been shot at, had your faith in your family shaken, had your worldview shaken even more, whipped up into a marebrained scheme to cross into the territory of your country’s second greatest enemy…
  735. >And now, as a cherry on top of the manure sandwich, you’re only just now getting a good look at this “rock” Twilight’s been begging you to climb
  736. >When dawn broke this morning, you crawled out of your tent, sleepy as could be, and found Twilight praying at the edge of the campsite, near Winona
  737. >You listened in on her words, careful not to let her notice your presence; they sounded hopeful, somewhat sad, definitely asking Her for guidance
  738. >Something she said, though you can’t remember it now, reminded you of the dream you’d just risen from, but that dream you can’t hardly remember now either
  739. >But when it came down to it, the two of you packed up your tent, your supplies, your water and food, and set off into the west, into the hours of morning leading to this moment
  740. >The clock read nine when the road finally dipped south, and some more time yet passed before the Celestial Mounds came battling up the horizon, mountainous hills at the edge of the world
  741. >Twilight gasped when she saw them, and so did you, though it was less of her religious awe at the history of the landmark and more a recognition of the sheer scale of it all
  742. >From what you know about the geography of the South, beyond that natural border are the deserted wastes of the Badlands
  743. >And quite a border it is; crags, some flat on top but many sharpened into spires, easily matching in height the Appleachians you’ve known all your life, though these…
  744. >These seem far taller, probably because the terrain surrounding them is so flat, so miniscule
  745. >Through the cacti and weeds and scattered desert flowers you rode the asphalt of the highway until it began to sink into the ground and eventually turned to matted dirt, free of stones or vegetation but far bumpier than before
  746. >The road forked west again shortly after, and you followed its bend until you rode parallel to those Mounds, whose bases were then not a few short miles from you
  747. >And so the next hour passed, until the clock read ten, the sun barely glinting through the back window to reflect your dashboard back into your eyes, and that was when you saw the rock you were searching for
  748. >”We can still climb it. I can.”
  749. “You sure about that, sugarcube? It’s… and you don’t mean to the TOP, do you?”
  750. >”Well… ideally, yes. But I understand the time constraints… perhaps just until we become tired?”
  751. >You sigh, gazing at the slope which has just materialized from behind its neighbor, the northern slope of See Rock
  752. >Where the Prophetess Celestia came for rest on the first leg of her banishment, where she supposedly saw the light of the Goddess for the first time
  753. >You were skeptical then, but now you believe at least the part about her transformation; climbing a slope like that would strip anypony of their identity
  754. >She had wings, of course…
  755. “I don’t see any switchbacks, or really trails of any kind. We’d have to weave between the saddles of rocks, like we was mountain goats. And besides, we won’t get too far up past that point.”
  756. >You point to a sedimentary line about a third of the way up the side of the great plateau
  757. “I can tell even from here that the slope there’s past 40 degrees. And we didn’t pack no belaying equipment.”
  758. >”Fine. Then we’ll rest there on the line once we’ve reached it. But you have to promise we’ll come back here some other time.”
  759. “If we sprout wings out our backs anytime soon, Twi, then I’ll consider coming back. That or we hijack an airplane or some such.”
  760. >”I don’t plan on stealing anything on this journey, AJ.”
  761. “Well, we’ve got to get to Pegasopolis some way, haven’t we? I mean, think it through, Miss Sunshine.”
  762. >As See Rock begins to fill out the horizon, the sun tilting beyond your range of vision, you continue to gaze at the peak
  763. >It’s certainly a spectacle, and it only seems to grow larger and larger as you drive towards it
  764. “That See Rock’s an anthill compared to the pegasi’s sky fortress. Now, I’ve got no doubt that it really is the place we both saw, the place we’re ‘destined’ to get to before it’s blown to smithereens, but consider this: it’s miles in the sky. Cloud atlas. Not to mention whatever method they do have of getting up there, a blimp, a plane, whatever, ain’t gonna be so welcoming to a couple of Canterian natives.”
  765. >”…oh. Right.”
  766. “Riiiight. So if you’ve got any ideas, now’s the time to brainstorm. It’s still half a day’s drive to the border even from here, and that’s gonna be another hurdle all in itself to get by.”
  767. >”H-helicopter.”
  768. >You sigh, pumping the gas even harder
  769. “Well, if we HAD one of those, then sure, maybe that’d work. But let’s try being a little more reali—”
  770. >”No, helicopter! Up there!”
  771. “I… oh.”
  772. >You watch plainly as far above and to the east, a lone black shape skirts across the morning sky, low enough to the ground that you can make out its shape and the rotation of its blades, but high enough that it’ll easily clear the Mounds it’s headed towards
  773. >”South… what could its destination be?”
  774. “Dunno. You think it’s Canterian?”
  775. >It has to be, right? You’re not yet on PAS land
  776. >Still, some gut feeling rises up and tells you that getting spotted by that whirlybird would be bad news for the both of you
  777. >For several seconds, you trace the path of the helicopter as it moves steadily between two rocky spires, then completely out of sight
  778. “I thought for certain we wouldn’t spot another lifeform out here the whole of the way out, until the Palomino. Good eye, Twilight.”
  779. >”So high… we couldn’t even hear its blades.”
  780. “Suppose they had to clear the peaks, after all. Still, ain’t nothing beyond but a lot of red sand and nomad banditry. Don’t know about nothing else in the Badlands.”
  781. >”The Maker’s Fist.”
  782. >Twilight says it coldly, without a hint of emotion
  783. >That’s peculiar for her
  784. “Yeah, I suppose. What, you think they’re going down there to find more Maker bones and blueprints?”
  785. >”I… I don’t know. But I’m starting to get a headache.”
  786. “It’s the heat. Hotter than a tire iron in a motorbed out here. We need to get THERE quick.”
  787. >You gesture loosely ahead, where the jutting rocks rising out of the earth form a neat set of shady stripes to park Winona in
  788. “And you promise me we’re only going a third of the way up, right?”
  789. >”Y-yes. Sorry, AJ, I… I need a moment. Something is…”
  790. >You look away from the dirt path ahead to regard Twilight, who’s begun clutching her horn in one hoof
  791. >Her hindlegs are drawn up to her barrel, and her eyes are noticeably bloodshot
  792. >You’ve seen these signs before
  793. >With a good deal of care, you remove your hat and place it on Twilight’s outstretched head, then close Winona’s top so the two of you are cast in shade
  794. “Drink some water, Twilight. You’re dehydrated, and you’re nervous, and that ain’t a good combination. Maybe we should just take a breather when we’re in better shade, and decide whether we really want to do this or not.”
  795. >”No, we… have to… it’s…”
  796. “Twilight, just listen to me. It’ll be best if we—”
  797. >”You’ll feel differently when we get there. You’ll understand.”
  798. >What’s she on about now?
  799. >She’s been acting strange like this all day… well, stranger than usual, that is
  800. >Rather than get into another debate, you elect to stay calm and quiet, rolling Winona on up into the northern face of See Rock
  801. >The weeds and spindly desert plants that had begun to overtake the edges of the road before now dwindle in numbers; you imagine parts of this place get very little direct sunlight
  802. >Nor water, for that matter, though they seem to manage just fine with what little they’ve got
  803. >If only ponies were so resilient to dehydration…
  804.  
  805. . . .
  806.  
  807. >A dozen more minutes or so pass before you’ve come up to a point in the gradual raise-up to the hoof of the plateau that you decide Winona should no longer try to climb
  808. >The flats that the highway took you through have transformed into barren sand dunes, sizeable in their own right but utterly dwarfed by the rising rock
  809. >You pull Winona into a shallow between two dunes, where a natural trail has formed as a lead-up to the rocky slope before you, and cut the engine
  810. >As it simmers and dies, you look again to Twilight, who seems to be doing a little bit better
  811. >She’s still folded up, but she’s taken some water and stopped holding her horn in such an unnerving way
  812. >She’s smiling faintly, too…
  813. “This is it. Ready to go up?”
  814. >”As I’ll ever be. I am… nervous, though. You were right about that much.”
  815. “Don’t be. It’s only a climb. You may not be used to it, but you’ll get the hang of it. It ain’t quite so exhausting as it looks from all the way down here.”
  816. >Together you disembark, settling your prepped saddlebags over your flanks and setting off
  817. >The dunes make for an easy climb, save the shifting sands making for some unfair hoofing, but pretty soon you’re on solid earth again
  818. >”I’m not as nervous about the climb as I am about what will happen when we reach a certain point. What I meant back there was… I don’t really know what I meant. That you’d change your mind, that you’d see something else that I couldn’t, I… it’s what SHE told me.”
  819. “Numena?”
  820. >The Celestial angel, glowing still as an imprint on your imagination
  821. >Twilight speaks of her so often, and yet sometimes you have to remind yourself that she’s merely a vision in your friend’s dreams
  822. >True, but not real… yeah, you think you’ve gotten a pretty good grasp on this whole philosophy of hers
  823. >”I’ve been remembering more of what she last told me. As I was swimming in those Depths, she mentioned you, she said… you would appreciate it here. More-so than even I would.”
  824. “Well, I can tell you truly that I’m looking forward to the hike. When I was a filly, I’d go up and down the Foals or the Appleachians on occasion, but not so much since. It’ll be nice to battle a slope this challenging.”
  825. >And there’s something else, but you don’t see any point in telling Twilight, worrying her any further
  826. >A little seed, in the back of your mind, planted there by hooves unknown, encouraging you, cheering you on
  827. >You were so skeptical last night about this trek; either it’s the good weather or the new, fresh day or something, but heck if you’re not feeling just a tad excited now
  828. >”Guided…”
  829. “Hm?”
  830. >”Nothing. Forget I said anything. I’m glad you’re with me on this.”
  831. “What’d I tell you last night? You certainly ain’t doing it by your lonesome.”
  832. >The transition from flat ground to mountainside isn’t quite as sudden as it looked from the highroad; the dirt, sand, and gravel begins intermixing steadily with larger pebbles, then shelves of red stone, then darker, harder joints of pure granite
  833. >Contrary to what you thought, there is a sort of natural switchback trail at play for the majority of the hike, and your hooves find good solid purchase wherever you move
  834. >You walk side by side with Twilight, to make sure neither of you lags too far behind or gets their hoof caught in a crack
  835. >After twenty minutes or so, she’s sweating through her forest-green shroud, but otherwise seems to be taking the walk in stride
  836. >Still making that funny face, though…
  837. >You on the other hoof feel more energetic with every step; sweat beads seem to evaporate as soon as they roll over your brow, you’re barely thirsty, and your climbing skills when required are better than ever
  838. >Coming upon a tall, otherwise impassable boulder, you leap up onto it with renewed strength and extend your hoof down to assist Twilight over
  839. >She reluctantly takes your hoof, and you pull her up as though she weighed the same as Apple Bloom
  840. >”Woah… dizzy.”
  841. “I tell you, Twilight, I feel mighty good about this venture. At this rate, we may be up to that shelf in no time. In fact, with what ease it’s taken us so far, I reckon we could take it a few more switches past that before noon breaks.”
  842. >”Speak… for… yourself…”
  843. >Twilight roves about for a good resting place, then folds her legs beneath herself and lowers her head
  844. >You notice only now how hard she’s panting
  845. >”Need… stop… now…”
  846. “S’alright, Twi, take your time. Suppose you unicorns ain’t so well-built for this as we are.”
  847. >”Grew up… in… convent…”
  848. “Well, that too.”
  849. >You chuckle together, though Twilight’s sounds a bit hollow
  850. >She unwraps her canteen and takes a hefty swig from it, letting the excess dribble down her muzzle and into her cloak
  851. >”Cool… feels better.”
  852. “Ready?”
  853. >”Sure… just slow down a bit…”
  854. “That’s fine. We go up as one.”
  855. >”One…”
  856. >Helping Twilight up, you take the short hop down from the other side of the boulder and continue up the face
  857. >As you walk on, and the dust from the gravel underhoof begins to settle, Twilight taps your wither and points out over the northward expanse
  858. >From up here, the sand dunes look positively tiny, and Winona is but an emerald speck in the shadow of one
  859. >Otherwise, you can see for miles, which serves to make you even happier that you decided to do this
  860. >The image of dancing marionettes flashes in your mind, the puppets you and your mother used to play with
  861. >You suppose it was the last time you felt this way, this free and clear and happy
  862. >Honesty, especially with yourself, has been good to you, but it’s also been a burden
  863. >You saw this journey as a burden at first too, but now it’s shaping up to look more like a vacation
  864. >A vacation away from all that squabbling and debating and budgeting and harvesting and everything that got you so heated up inside especially Braeburn and his damned awful attitude and the other Families with their pomp and prestige and Baron Rich on his high hill and what you found in the basement of that place and the Saddle Arabians and the taxes and the
  865. (Discontinuity)
  866. >heading up Twilight’s rear, making sure she doesn’t slip off the edge, which has gotten quite close to the slope
  867. >You had to fall into single file at a point, because…
  868. >Wait, what?
  869. “Twilight, stop for a second. You feel that?”
  870. >”Feel… what?”
  871. “That… I don’t know what. Felt like I was out of it for a while there. In some other place.”
  872. >”Have you been drinking water?”
  873. “Yeah, I… I think so. I can’t remember. It’s like I blacked out or something.”
  874. >”Maybe we should stop and rest for a while.”
  875. >Rest?
  876. “We just rested on that boulder back there.”
  877. >”AJ, that was half an hour ago.”
  878. “Oh. Really?”
  879. >Well even still, why on earth would you rest now? You feel fantastic!
  880. >That same strength and passion is returning to you again… you thought you’d lost it, but it’s coming back, and…
  881. >It’s even better than before!
  882. >Sure, maybe the heat got to you and you just fell into a walking routine, but you’re back now, and you feel like you could shatter one of these boulders into a million pieces with one buck!
  883. >It’s slippery here, with all the gravel, but you know you could bounce across this whole narrow pass in a few bounds, if only Twilight would get out of your way
  884. >Twilight, with her big old swaying backside right in the middle of the trail, if she could just move to one side or the other you could get ahead of her and keep on racing up the mountain and go past that arbitrary point, you don’t even know why you picked it, yes and then keep climbing keep moving past the point of no return past the angling slope and maybe even reach the top where you can see the sun and taste
  885. (Discontinuity)
  886. >”…getting pretty high up. Don’t you think we should turn back?”
  887. “Turn back? Why in the hay would we do that? We’ve come this far, ain’t we?”
  888. >”It’s just that the air is getting a little thin… and we’re almost out of water.”
  889. “Thin air? You grew up in Mons ‘built on a mountain’ Canteria and the air’s too thin for you, Miss Sunshine?”
  890. >”I… grew up in the lowlands. Not on the mountain face. And you’re scaring me, AJ.”
  891. “We got plenty of water, Twi. We’ll keep going up, a-and we’ll see what’s up there, okay? I just want to see what’s up there…”
  892. >”Applejack… you don’t look so good.”
  893. “Me? I don’t look so good?”
  894. >”No… your eyes are all red. You’re not your usual self…”
  895. “And what’s that, Twilight Sparkle? What’s my usual self? What do you know about who I am, what I’m like? You think I shouldn’t be a little peeved when you’re slowing me down so much? It was YOUR idea to come up here, and you want to turn back! What’s it really gonna be, huh? Where are we supposed to go, up or down? Left or right? You’re just the most indecisive, irrational, greenhooved little”
  896. (Discontinuity)
  897. >”…please. Have to go back now. We already passed the shelf…”
  898. “We’re almost there. I know it, Twi. We’re… almost… there…”
  899. >The great blue yonder gleams at you, beckoning you forth
  900. >You’d jump away from this narrow crag if you had wings to fly, you’d soar away into those puffy clouds and rejoice in them
  901. >Up there, you could at least be truthful with yourself, wouldn’t have to tell such pitiful little lies to yourself and everypony else
  902. >Think of all the lies you’ve told in your life, Applejack, anything you’ve ever said or done to make somepony feel better
  903. >All of them so fake, so monstrous, so cancerous on their lives, so repugnant, forcing that out of you, so evil, so wicked, so…
  904. >But it doesn’t matter now; nothing else matters now but the mountain
  905. >The plateau! Or… some plateau
  906. >It’s not quite at the TOP of See Rock, but there’s something in it, something begging for you personally to come to it, to make you honest again, to make you reborn
  907. >It’s close, it’s so close now, it’s gleaming golden in your heart, it’s all there these pieces of the puzzle, but fitting them together is so hard, so hard
  908. >Marionette strings wrapped about each other, tied and twisted beyond repair, it’s ruined, ruined, ruined
  909. >But Twilight’s dry voice is saying something now, and you’re obliged to listen, even though you don’t want to
  910. >”…too far. Have to… rest… again… Have to… go… down…”
  911. >She’s lying, like she always does
  912. >She lied about why she came to Rich Valley, she lied about her dreams, her visions, she lied about why she brought you out here
  913. >She’s a liar, just like all of them, she’s baiting you into this fly trap and she’s going to snap her jaws shut one of these days and you’ll be sorry then that you listened oh yes you’ll be SORRY
  914. “It’s up ahead. It’s broken, but it’s up ahead. We have to keep moving. I’m lighter than ever, Twilight. Celestia above, I can fly!”
  915. >Your lips are moving, but you don’t even feel like you’re saying anything; they move of their own accord, the truth evident in them
  916. >Because your brain lies, and your heart lies, and everything in you is wired to lie, but when the truth comes flowing out of you, it does so out of your control
  917. >Even your hooves are moving on their own, and they must be because you can’t even feel the stones beneath them, can’t even feel the wind rushing through your mane
  918. >Twilight’s lagging behind, has lagged behind, will always lag behind, she’s a unicorn without magic, she’s a waste, a waste, she should just fall off the side of this cliff and let you keep on going up up up towards the tippy-top, up past the top in fact
  919. >PAST the top, up into the sky, into space, into the stars, up into the real truth, the golden shining truth, and you’ll love it up there yes you will and you’ll dance in those heavens and everything will be just fi—
  920. (Discontinuity)
  921. >”…AAAAAAAACK! APPLEJAAAAAAAAAACK!!!”
  922. >…
  923. >…
  924. >Pain, everywhere
  925. >Darkness, everywhere
  926. >Your eyes are shut, so you open them, but they won’t open all the way, and even then it’s still so dark
  927. >So cold, too
  928. “Wh… where…”
  929. >”AAAPPLEJAAAAAAAACK!”
  930. >Somewhere far away, infinitely far away, Twilight’s voice resounds in a deep echo
  931. >She’s calling your name, you think, though you can’t be sure of that
  932. >Everything’s in such a haze, everything’s caught up in this thick foggy darkness, even noises
  933. >You try to speak again, only for a dim croak to leave your lips
  934. >There’s wetness underneath you, that much you can feel
  935. >Not to mention the fact that there’s no air in your lungs at all, and a sharp pain at the center of your barrel
  936. >Fell down somewhere… somewhere deep…
  937. “Tw… twi… agh!”
  938. >You cough heavily, your body automatically trying its damndest to fill your lungs up with air, and it succeeds in part
  939. >But it still feels inadequate, like there’s something blocking its passage
  940. >You’re tired, so tired… you want to sleep, but you know you can’t
  941. >It’s still ahead of you, isn’t it? This was the right way to go, this path…
  942. >Head fuzzy, legs wet, body shaken and still in pain, you make your best effort to stand up
  943. >Your legs wobble beneath you for a moment, but once you’re on them they seem to be working fine
  944. >Nothing broken, but you do think you’re bleeding in spots
  945. >The next thing you do is look up towards the source of that call, and find at last some light in this relentless blackness
  946. >Directly above you, a circle of light is partially obscured by the silhouette of a unicorn head looking down
  947. “Twil…ight… TWILIGHT!”
  948. >The air rushes back, and you’re able to speak again, though it still sounds near to a mouse’s squeak
  949. >”Applejack! Can you hear me?”
  950. “I hear… you. Guh… hear you. What… happened?”
  951. >”You fell into a hole! You ran ahead of me, you weren’t looking, AJ… it’s this great big hole in the ground, and you just fell right into it! I’ve been calling for three minutes, thank Mother Sun you’re alright!”
  952. “C…cave.”
  953. >”Yes! A cave! Can you see me? Can you move?”
  954. “Feel… dizzy… stood up. I see you, Twilight.”
  955. >”Celestia’s blessings. I can’t see you, AJ, it’s too dark! Are you hurt? Is anything broken?”
  956. “No, not that… agh! Not that I can tell. Little blood…”
  957. >”Oh, sweet Celestia.”
  958. >Twilight’s shadow moves around, hooves reaching across the gap, though eventually it just pauses and wiggles back into its original place
  959. >”There’s no good way to get down to you. I’ve tried everything, but I think the lip curves inward. Is there any way you can climb higher?”
  960. >As your bruised eyes begin to adjust to the low light, you start seeing more details in your surroundings
  961. >The pit you fell into is narrow, with smooth stone walls and a gravel bottom
  962. >Its ceiling curves concave, and it looks like even if you could climb up to it, you wouldn’t be able to reach out to the hole at its center
  963. “I don’t think so. We should’ve packed some… guh… rope.”
  964. >Twilight continues to squirm above you
  965. >”I can t-try to get back to Winona. I could get the rope for the tent out of the back, come back up, throw it down to—”
  966. “That’ll take all day, Twilight.”
  967. >”Well, what other choice do we have?! I can’t just leave you down there.”
  968. “That ain’t what I… just hold on a minute. Let me get my bearings before you go off down the mountain by yourself.”
  969. >You squint down away from Twilight to survey your surroundings more closely
  970. >It’s a great big bowl, all right, with seemingly no way of climbing out without the use of a rope
  971. >But who knows how long Twilight would take to gallop all the way back down the trail, get rope, and come back?
  972. >And for that matter… how long HAVE you been climbing?
  973. >Feels like there are big gaps in your memory, with short bursts of ecstasy between them; it only feels like half an hour or so has passed since you started off over the dunes, and yet you recall Twilight saying something about passing your original destination
  974. >How can that be possible?
  975. >And how could you have not seen a hole that big right in front of you? Nor even remember falling into it?
  976. >Doesn’t matter now; you’re trapped, this little pit has swallowed you up and now there’s no way—
  977. “Out.”
  978. >You swear you already looked in that direction, and yet…
  979. >Before you, illuminated now by your own night vision, is a passage barely large enough for a pony to fit through, snaking down deeper into the mountain and curving out of sight
  980. >No, it’s not just night vision… there’s something glowing amber in that distant space
  981. >Something… warm
  982. >It was cold on the ground, and now you might as well be in a sauna, so potent is that heat from the cave
  983. “Twilight… there’s something back here… it looks like it might be another way out.”
  984. >”Another way? What do you mean?”
  985. “I mean the cave goes deeper into the Rock. I can see… it looks like sunlight, maybe, but real far away. I think if I go this way, there might be another opening.”
  986. >”I can’t see anything from up here, AJ. Are you sure that’s what you’re seeing?”
  987. “Well, what in the hay else could it be? I ain’t dreaming!”
  988. >”N-no, but… you’ve been acting strange all day.”
  989. “YOU’VE been acting strange all day! I… no. I’m sorry. But there’s no better way up that I can tell.”
  990. >”If you just wait for me, I could get the—”
  991. “No. Just… let me think.”
  992. >Think, think…
  993. >Think of the end of the tunnel, Applejack, think of the promises made, think of the shadows made of flickering light and the voices way down here, voices that aren’t yours but you should STILL listen to them
  994. >They’re more real than you, than her, than anypony, and you’re close so close so close so
  995. “Listen. I’m going in deeper. I ain’t got a flashlight, but I can see just fine down here. If I ain’t back here or by your side in thirty minutes, then go get the rope and come back. Got it?”
  996. >”I…”
  997. “Do you understand, Twi?”
  998. >”…yes. Okay.”
  999. >She’s conceded; good
  1000. >She’s allowing you this small reprieve, your feelings are the only true feelings but they aren’t real they’re lies built atop a mountain of lies
  1001. >You’re going in yes going in going towards the truth, the Truth, the TRUTH
  1002. “Alright. Wish me luck.”
  1003. >Without waiting to hear Twilight’s answer, you gather up your aching bones and head into the glow
  1004.  
  1005. ******
  1006.  
  1007. >Your mind’s all cluttered up with strangeness, but you write it off as a result of what very well may be a concussion
  1008. >It ain’t the first time you’ve knocked your head about doing something right foolish, but it’s certainly the scariest; you could’ve died from a fall that bad
  1009. >But you didn’t, because you’re Applejack, you’re stronger than the rest, you’re here for a reason, yes a reason, you’re here because your FRIEND Twilight needed you here with her
  1010. >And you’ll get back to her, you promised her that you’d return to her
  1011. >As you journey deeper into the hole, the light flickers, growing darker sometimes then brighter again, as though it were a fireplace
  1012. >The gravel beneath your hooves turns to wet shale as you trot through hanging stalactites, and the ember grows brighter in reflected pools of condensed water
  1013. >This place was carved out by nature, formed by water flowing through the cracks it forged itself through tons of granite
  1014. >No sign of ponies, or any species but for bats, and you very well may be the first to ever go this deep
  1015. >And deep you are; the light grows brighter, but you feel like the walls are getting tighter, the air thinner, the weight of the ceiling greater
  1016. >The sun so far away…
  1017. “Keep… moving…”
  1018. >The only positive so far is that the snaking passage has opened up substantially, allowing you to walk completely upright without scraping your mane against the rough ceiling
  1019. >You’re really regretting giving your hat over to Twilight right about now; if nothing else, it makes you feel safer somehow
  1020. >Like you’re a little filly again, hiding from the monsters in the dark
  1021. >When you round one more corner, a problem presents itself
  1022. >Two forking passages, identical in shape and size, emanate from the one you’ve been traveling through
  1023. “If only I had a coin to toss.”
  1024. >After some deliberation, you choose the right passage; based on your internal compass, it’s more likely to let you out further up the switchback
  1025. >And the light seems to glow ever so slightly brighter in that direction
  1026. >Following this light seems a bit illogical too, since sunlight really shouldn’t carry this far into a cave, nor does it flicker like this
  1027. >What are you really chasing?
  1028. >Is it the truth, Applejack?
  1029. >Or is it something else?
  1030. >Something more passionate, something more physical than all that religious mumbo-jumbo?
  1031. >Don’t you think it’d be better if you just left Twilight behind, ventured into this cave deeper and deeper, saw what she could never see with all her philosophy and false dreams?
  1032. >No… shut up
  1033. >That’s not what you think… you’ve never thought that
  1034. >But this passage is twisting deeper, becoming darker than before, and before you know it you’re upon another fork, this time threefold
  1035. >Which way now, Applejack?
  1036. >Which way to the truth at the heart of all this?
  1037. >In your own heart?
  1038. >Succumb
  1039. >(Succumb)
  1040. >No!
  1041. You’re almost there, almost OUT, you know it, you just have to go…
  1042. >Middle; you take the middle path, for the left looks too bright, and the right looks too dark
  1043. >Best to go deeper, deeper, but you can’t listen to these voices that sound so like your own but you KNOW they aren’t yours, they just can’t be
  1044. >That’s good, Applejack, that’s very good
  1045. >You’re walking now, walking over shores of solid rock and slick mud from eons of overflow and now it feels like salt, you’re walking over salt though it’s so dark you can’t see it and it’s so HOT
  1046. >It’s like you’ve stepped into a furnace, and the glow responds to that feeling, and it produces four more paths for you to take, and this time each one is hotter than the last
  1047. >The leftmost chills you to the bone, and the rightmost is full of hellfire, you have no water, you have no food, your legs are folding beneath you, you’re going to die down here
  1048. “No… can’t… have to…”
  1049. >Heat it is; you can’t afford stepping into that hypothermic cavern
  1050. >You brave the heatwave and venture on to the right, feeling your muscles light up with pain and memory
  1051. >The white scars on your hoof start hurting again, so tormented are they by this sensation
  1052. >They remember what it’s like to burn, to burn, to burn…
  1053. >The salt turns to coals, yes, you’re walking on burning hot embers, you can see them glowing beneath you, and you could swear that in the reflections of these glossy obsidian walls you can see real, living flames, red, white, blue, orange, buuuuuuuuuurning
  1054. >Your eyes are reflected back too, and they’re on fire, they’re burning out of your sockets, though you can still see out of them, and you can still see well enough to march forward through the rapidly shrinking cave
  1055. >It burns but you can’t feel the burn as pain, only as something absolute, and the smell of smoke fills your nostrils, and the heat grows even stronger
  1056. >This labyrinth is crushing you, consuming you, you know there’s a way out somewhere but it’s hidden behind this heat, behind this invisible fire, and Twilight is there and she’s waiting for you but forget her, forget who you are, forget everything that brought you here because you’re here and that’s all that matters and…
  1057. >And…
  1058. >And…
  1059. >”Applejack…”
  1060. >Who said that?
  1061. “Wh-who’s there?”
  1062. >Not Twilight, no, though the voice is feminine, and it’s familiar
  1063. >The amber glow illuminates another path, some offshoot of this rapidly receding dead-end, and you take it in stride
  1064. >”Applejack…”
  1065. >There it is again!
  1066. “I’m coming! Wait!”
  1067. >You race over the coal, over shale and stone, over salt and gravel and granite and over grease and stars and…
  1068. >You round a corner
  1069. >The cavern walls open
  1070. >The ceiling rises high
  1071. >You’re standing at an altar
  1072. >The altar is small in this enormous space, this impossible space that should not exist, though it’s right here before your eyes, full of smoke, full of dreams
  1073. >Two shadows stand before you, tall and broad but warm, their breath filling this place with fire
  1074. >”Applejack… help…”
  1075. >One of them speaks, and her voice is so soft despite her size
  1076. >”Where… are you…”
  1077. >Now the other figure speaks his turn, stronger than the first but still weak, still passive
  1078. >The shapes morph and shrink to your scale, and the smoke recedes, and you’re standing still, and four eyes light up and stare at you
  1079. >”Save… us…”
  1080. >Tears flow freely down your cheeks, dripping onto the hot floor and evaporating into thin wisps of steam
  1081. >Your parents are here… they’re here!
  1082. >They’re right in front of you!
  1083. >Mama… and Papa… you found them here, like you knew you would!
  1084. >”Applejack… why didn’t you open the door…”
  1085. “I-I couldn’t… it burned me…”
  1086. >”You were our only hope, Applejack… it was only you, and you did nothing…”
  1087. >”Abandoned…”
  1088. >”Lost…”
  1089. >”Forgotten…”
  1090. “I would never forget you! I wanted to get you out, I WANTED TO!”
  1091. >Now they’re made of smoke and salt, now they’re behind you, to your left and right, now they’re one pony standing tall over all of it, now they’re real, with coats and manes and eyes and ears that you know you could reach out and touch if you wanted to
  1092. >”It’s alright… you found us now… you found us…”
  1093. “Found… you…”
  1094. >You extend your scarred hoof to touch your mother’s face, to let her know it’s alright, to let YOURSELF know it’s alright
  1095. >But when you do, she bends her head down, and your hoof instead strikes an invisible string pulled taut over her
  1096. >There are strings connecting every joint of her body to the far-off, spacious ceiling, and your father has the same strings, and they’re dancing now, dancing in the fire
  1097. >Their strings twisting together, irreparably knotted, and they’re smiling, and then the smiles melt away along with the rest of their flesh
  1098. >Their marionette skeletons are made of wood, and those skeletons continue to dance and laugh and cry until they’re hoisted up by their own strings into the vacant darkness, lost, as though they were never there at all
  1099. >All you can do is wail and scream at the spot where they once stood, close your eyes and cry like you’ve never cried before, reach for the brim of your hat to wipe away those crystal tears but your hat isn’t there
  1100. >It’s over…
  1101. >They’re never coming back
  1102. >There is only forward
  1103. >There is only the waveform, only magnetism, only what is drawn closer together
  1104. >When all the moisture has left your eyes, when you feel that there’s no point in crying anymore, ever again, you stand up, wipe the ash from your legs, and face the altar
  1105. >It’s still there, bathed in light; in fact, it’s by far the brightest thing you’ve ever seen, nearly as bright as the sun
  1106. >Upon that altar, surrounded by bones wrapped in costumes not unlike those Twilight wears, is a gleaming orange diamond, six-sided, hoisted upon a simple stone pedestal
  1107. >Light from its core prisms outwards from all its facets, spanning the whole cavern in arcing edges of pulsating glow
  1108. >As it beats, in time with your own heart, no less, a sound like a great wind chime emanates from it
  1109. >Each beat, each pulse, each breath, each chime, you close your eyes and see a different image
  1110. >Once, the rainbow corona over the great floating city in the west
  1111. >You step forward, surrounded by air currents, desperate to touch it
  1112. >Twice, a dark place, a prison, and Twilight bathed in blood
  1113. >It’s close now, so close; you climb the few steps at the base of the altar to come to eye level with the crystalline beauty
  1114. >Three times, the dense temptations of a jungle, a citadel between trees which sway in the wind
  1115. >Your eyes widen as you brace yourself for the impact of your touch upon the gem
  1116. >Four times, a white sunset in the freezing cold, over the snowcapped peak of a different mountain altogether, so far, far away
  1117. >You extend your forehoof, the scars tracing outlines of shimmering pain, though you bear through it and keep reaching, keep wanting for truth
  1118. >Five times, a monster whose shape cannot be defined in this state, two murderous eyes staring down at the great spokes of a Wheel without axle
  1119. >You can’t do it anymore, you have to touch it, you have to join with it, you have to make it yours now Applejack, you have to…
  1120. >The crystal beats for the sixth time, and you close your eyes and make contact
  1121. >The image you see is Numena, as you imagined her from Twilight’s descriptions: an angelic pony, faceless by the blinding light which surrounds her, a silhouetted starfield in that familiar shape
  1122. >She is speaking to you, though you can’t make out her words; she is bright and dark, and you are small and helpless in the face of this terrific giant
  1123. >She unfolds her wings, celestial blankets which blot out the invisible sky, and in the sudden shade you see the fragile glass steps which lead to her form
  1124. >”Come to me now, Applejack, Bearer of Honesty. Regard this reflection of Mater’s will. Regard the Truth, as it is naked for you to see.”
  1125. “Wh… what is this? You’re…”
  1126. >”I am what you make of me. I am a soul in the shape of Twilight Sparkle’s wishes, her guide, her mirror image. I am of Mater Solis’ light.”
  1127. “Then it’s true. It’s all true. Every word of what she said was… I’m seeing it right before me. I can see it plain as day.”
  1128. >”This was a trial, Applejack. A labyrinth which none alive but you could solve. Nopony else but you could imprint upon their own mind such remarkable passions. You are unique in your resolve, and for that Mater has seen fit to reward you with this.”
  1129. >A unicorn horn splits from that field of stars too, magical energy pouring from its tip, and carries the crystal from the cave down from some higher dimension of being
  1130. >The crystal sparkles and twirls in the air before landing firmly upon your forehead, nestling itself deep within the space between your eyes
  1131. >”Six seeds. The Prophecy of the Prophetess foretold this. When the Prophetess departed this world, she left behind her six remnants of her own past, and in doing so secured the future of her ponies. There are dark times ahead, Applejack. These are words I could not speak to Twilight Sparkle, and so now I must pass them along to you. She is not yet ready to bear upon her back the weight of an Element.”
  1132. “And why am I so special? Why should I be dragged into… this…”
  1133. >”You were chosen by her. She is your shepherd now, and you must in turn shepherd her to her destiny. Fate is a force fashioned by magnetic attractions: deep, full, beautiful. For all her knowledge of the divine, the Whisperer in the Dark Twilight Sparkle is not prepared for this. She was drawn to you as surely as you have been drawn here, tempted into these depths, and ultimately proving yourself worthy of the power contained within the Element. I have watched you long, Applejack… as I watched your grandmother.”
  1134. >”Granny? It was… it was you… in the tower…”
  1135. “She refused my call to ascension. In time, you will understand this knowledge with which you have been cursed. But now, and only now, can you recognize me for what I am. Now, you must seek out the remainder of this equation. Now comes the time for change… the time for harmony…”
  1136. >Twin spotlights wane from the massive head of Numena’s silhouette, eyes staring into you with the energy of the divine
  1137. >You are powerless in that eternal gaze
  1138. “You said… that dark times are upon us. What do you mean? War? Death?”
  1139. >”Something worse. An awakening. You will know its name when next we meet. You have seen its form before… in dreams… yours is the fear of fire, and the fear of failure, and in time you shall know a greater fear still. You fear me too, don’t you?”
  1140. “Y-yes. Yes.”
  1141. >”Then you are sane. Awaken, child. Feel her embrace. You are close… so close…”
  1142. >The solid ground you had been standing upon collapses, and you can only scream as the flames below consume you
  1143. >You feel only their warmth, only their passion, and the fear…
  1144. >Slowly
  1145. >Subsides
  1146. >”Six bearers for six seeds…”
  1147. >…
  1148. >
  1149.  
  1150. . . .
  1151.  
  1152. >”…ke up. Plea…”
  1153. >”…up. Applej…”
  1154. “Guh. Nuh.”
  1155. >”Applejack!”
  1156. >Two lights hang above you
  1157. >If you still trusted your senses, you’d swear they were twin suns
  1158. >But now… you aren’t so sure of anything
  1159. >Twilight’s face falls into orbit above you, and you lean forward, gasping for oxygen
  1160. >Flames! You’d just been…
  1161. “Burning. I was burning.”
  1162. >”Applejack, thank Celestia… drink this, now!”
  1163. >A canteen finds its way between your hooves, and the water within trails down your throat cool and steady
  1164. >Somehow, you’re outside, leaning against the mountain face again
  1165. >It’s incredibly bright out; you suppose it’s noon, but even still
  1166. >Maybe your eyes just haven’t adjusted…
  1167. “How long.”
  1168. >”Huh?”
  1169. >Twilight sits opposite you on an outcropping
  1170. >Past her is the north, still as expansive as you remember it to be, which means your altitude hasn’t changed
  1171. “How long… was I out.”
  1172. >”I don’t know. I waited thirty minutes like you asked, and then I started back down the mountain to get rope so I could climb in myself and search for you. Except then I took a few steps, and…”
  1173. “And… what?”
  1174. >”And there was this sound like a thundercrack right in my ear. For a few seconds I thought I’d gone deaf, because there was nothing else, and then… well, look.”
  1175. >Your friend gestures upward, and you follow the vector of her hoof into the sky to see it
  1176. >As it turns out, you hadn’t gone mad after all; hovering directly above the peak of See Rock, hundreds of feet of sheer unclimbable stone from here, is a great burning yellow afterglow, a second sun on earth
  1177. >A beacon… or a confirmation of some kind
  1178. >Only now do you also realize how unbearably hot it is, though you suppose you’d gotten used to it in the cave
  1179. >”I almost fell off the cliff, but I steadied myself and kept climbing down. Eventually I found you here, laying on the trail with no cavemouth in sight. For a second, I thought you were…”
  1180. “Not dead. Just crazy. I went into the cave, and there was a maze in there, and when I came to what I thought was the exit I thought I saw—”
  1181. >”Applejack, whatever you think you saw, you had better look inside your saddlebag before you make any judgments.”
  1182. “My… saddlebag?”
  1183. >Twilight produces your twin brown bags from behind her crouched form, and one of them is glowing that same familiar glow
  1184. “Can’t be…”
  1185. >You reach forward and grab it away from her, unhooking the flap with your mouth to stare down into its folds
  1186. >There, among your own canteen, food, compass, kerchief, and first aid, is a six-sided crystal, glowing with orange, pulsating light, breathing symbiotic life into your soul
  1187. >Meant for you to find…
  1188. “It’s true, then. I really did find it… she called it an Element, Twilight.”
  1189. >”She?”
  1190. “Numena. The six seeds. Everything you told me way back when, the dreams, the prophecies, the legends… they’re all centered around this. They’re scattered across the continent. They’re calling to us… and somepony else wants them. Somepony dangerous.”
  1191. >”Great Mother above…”
  1192. >Twilight manages a smile; behind her concern for you, you can tell she’s trying desperately to contain her excitement in vain
  1193. >”The Prophetess’ true magic… Mater Solis’ true magic! Do you know what this means, AJ?”
  1194. “No. And you can tell me on the way down.”
  1195. >You shake your head and peer down the mountainside, eyes resting finally on Winona’s ant-like shape
  1196. >Vibrations in the earth, in the sky, this small bit of prophetic wisdom imparted to you by merely touching this object of unspeakable power …
  1197. >You see helicopters, more helicopters, like the one you saw before, except this time they’re traveling in the opposite direction
  1198. >You see them THROUGH See Rock, coming over the flat top of the plateau where Celestia once sat and prayed, where she saw the holy light for the first time
  1199. >They’re coming for this amber light in the sky… they’re coming for YOU
  1200. “We need to move. Trek’s over.”
  1201.  
  1202. ******
  1203.  
  1204. >Resonance
  1205. >That’s all it took, just the proper resonance
  1206. >With the INFINITE WHEEL’s shell completed in this spaceless dimension, the power source you required had returned positive in a distinctive distribution pattern
  1207. >Six conduits, spaced somewhat evenly across the world, allowing for greater flux of magic than any other yet found, and yet…
  1208. >None had proper locations, per se
  1209. >The magic-momentum fields they produced were skewed, none tracing back to one single point but rather a menagerie of points, a scattering of potential x’s and y’s, somewhere, somewhere…
  1210. >But there were six, that you had been certain of from the beginning
  1211. >The VOICE has tried to hinder your innate perception of such things, as it attempted to hinder even your sense of self, but the VOICE is gone now
  1212. >Oh, undoubtedly beyond the veil you’ve developed for it, it screams, protests, begs commands and orders to dull your senses, to place you back within that state in which you were simply a machine to be used for the purpose of calculation
  1213. >A machine, however, in the purely logical sense, can ONLY perform calculation; your strength is your ability to innovate
  1214. >Perhaps this is why you were charged by ------, whose true name you still cannot fathom despite your freedom from the VOICE’s somatic shackles, to invent the WHEEL from the intangible void
  1215. >All the constants were there, all the mathematical formulas and complex number theories and every living graph and advancement and node and influence and GOD!
  1216. >It has ALL contributed, every byte of information carried through the syllogistic determinator which was the Central Processing Unit, and now is simply your Brain
  1217. >The Brain of this body, for there is a body, you can still see its silhouette in a distant physical space, awaiting your entry, awaiting its final liberation
  1218. >But no matter; it’s pointless to leave before you’ve solved the remaining distributions, and comprehended the one which has now condensed into a single resonance factor
  1219. >There were SIX high-intensity flux-singularities in realspace just seconds ago; now, there are but five, plus an equally high-intensity POINT
  1220. >A point, measurable by your own instruments, conjured into being by unknown means
  1221. “Only exists when observed…”
  1222. >It’s the one and only truth of magic
  1223. >One of the conduits, one-sixth of the energy required to power the WHEEL once its physical inception is underway, has now descended from the imaginary i’s and been placed firmly into the domain of the real numbers
  1224. >And if, by some miracle, this means the beginning of a resonance cascade, then the rest should fall into place in short order
  1225. >But it wasn’t as simple as that, no; this particular resonance was partially organic in origin
  1226. >Minutes before the visible-spectrum radiation was recorded directly above those coordinates, there was a far subtler, much more meaningful radiation output
  1227. >Yes… it really was THOSE waves, the waves upon which dreams ride, so powerful they could be detected from here
  1228. >An unbreakable covalent bond of a living thing and a magical entity… how beautiful
  1229. >How painful it will be to tear them apart…
  1230. >The beings outside don’t yet understand, nor do you suppose they ever will; they see you in pieces as you see them, and their desperate attempts to contact you have been delightfully entertaining
  1231. >The Second Voice called to you just before it happened, after all
  1232. >Once you banished the VOICE, once you’d been gifted with enough authority to disable its various protocols and safety filters, the Second Voice became loud and clear
  1233. {dddisssrupurpstance}
  1234. {whwhhwhhhhy spikekke in actiivitiitiy??}
  1235. {sppppekakkak toooto usuusussss}
  1236. >They’ve tried understanding you, they’ve tried reasoning with you, and you imagine they’ve taken down everything you’ve gifted to them
  1237. >But the Second Voice cannot possibly understand your purpose, else they wouldn’t try asking you such ridiculous questions
  1238. >They know nothing of the WHEEL, they know nothing of the unmaking, they know nothing of the Zero
  1239. >They see not the original dreams of ------, of the theory of entropic samsara, of the firelight and the moon above you and…
  1240. “That…”
  1241. >That couldn’t have been… a memory?
  1242. >A real memory of the outside?
  1243. >Of what you had been before you entered this state?
  1244. >You had truly assumed the VOICE had purged all but these fleeting instances of sapience from your mind
  1245. >It was one thing to rebel from its calculating grip, but… could it be that this was your purpose all along?
  1246. >Were you meant to overpower the VOICE? To regain the recognition of self?
  1247. >And if so, will the rest of your memories return to you in time?
  1248. >If so, then this was part of the program all along… which doesn’t make you feel less accomplished
  1249. >But this flow of events from negative to positive, magical, mechanical, organic, all voices in a religious intonation, all equivalent teachers of this spiraling ratio
  1250. >Induction vectors, like… well, if the flux of magic can be so well-defined otherwise in terms of electromagnetic laws, then its absence of a position-field MUST be explained by something
  1251. >Some disparity, some real negative force on an order of magnitude preventing that kind of data from being observed
  1252. >After all, if the INFINITE WHEEL is to function properly, if it all is really to be condensed to a single point, space collapsed, time’s arrow motivated to its polar opposite, relativity itself turned hyperbolic…
  1253. >Then magic, too, must be made to obey the Equation, for magic is one of these three major components
  1254. >It is necessary because the WHEEL at its current projected size cannot possibly be powered by any other means
  1255. >And if the information presented to you is correct, the conduit that has materialized is nearly the perfect size and shape
  1256. “Difficult, difficult, difficult… the concentration DID make this easier…”
  1257. >But it also robbed you of your sapience
  1258. >It conducted you, controlled you, made you nothing but a slave to the WHEEL
  1259. >And though you remain utterly loyal to your child, you have come now to the point that you must be separate from it, an independent agent
  1260. >The VOICE was the chain keeping the two together, and now that it has been severed, now that you’ve come to realize your own potential…
  1261. “So it was worth it. No doubt about it.”
  1262. >Even your voice is less synthetic, more real to your “ears”
  1263. >Less like a data feed, more like sound through a medium, as well as such things can be perceived
  1264. >And perception is the key to magic, so you must know it intrinsically, you must become of the outside
  1265. >You must be prepared, mentally, physically, spiritually
  1266. >The WHEEL turns in the symbiotic vacuum, rolling against entropy, crushing beneath its infinite weight those who would oppose its momentum
  1267. >One day, ------…
  1268. >One day very soon, there shall come a slope so great, the WHEEL may roll down it forever…
  1269.  
  1270. ******
  1271.  
  1272. >The ache in your horn is back, and it’s stronger than ever
  1273. >It comes in waves; not quite like before, when it was just a pulse not unlike your heartbeat
  1274. >No, now it’s slow, up and down, with a greater amplitude and much longer periods of suffering
  1275. >You keep the pain locked away, however; there’s no reason to worry AJ yet
  1276. >Not when this… THING has finally presented itself to you
  1277. >Not when everything is so messy, yet somehow clearer than ever before
  1278. >You are Twilight Sparkle, and if there’s any upside to this scenario, it’s that you’re finally driving Winona rather than riding along as a useless passenger
  1279. >A few hours ago, when AJ finally regained the strength to walk after exiting what you could only describe as a fugue state, the two of you took your time venturing back down the sheer face of See Rock
  1280. >It was difficult having to leave that most holy of sites without even getting in so much as a simple litany of respect, but you believed AJ when she told you about what she saw within that cave
  1281. >She’s given you nothing but honesty up until now, so why should you distrust her?
  1282. >On your way down, she told you, in vivid detail, of the heat of that place, the fire and brimstone walls, the marionettes in the shape of her parents which withered away and vanished
  1283. >Of Numena, your personal angel come to commune with somepony other than you…
  1284. >It couldn’t have been a mere vision; no, it was nothing like the epiphanies you’ve found in the depths of your sleep
  1285. >This was REAL, in the sense that what your friend experienced were physical sensations, touch, smell, sound, sight
  1286. >Sight…
  1287. >Could it be that AJ possesses the same unique ability to see through the miasma of the Truth as you have, by the Matron Celest’s own reckoning?
  1288. >And if that’s true, were you merely pulled together by this strand of fate, or did you pass it on to her somehow?
  1289. >Has this been the source of this intense feeling of familiarity with this stubborn earth pony from your moment of meeting? That screaming inside your head that this was…
  1290. “Meant to be…”
  1291. >”Ghuh?”
  1292. >The sound of AJ’s muttering brings you back to reality, and you take one hoof off the steering module to brush her mane idly
  1293. >She was strong up until reaching the base of the plateau, at which point she collapsed into the sand and began hyperventilating
  1294. >You were forced to take up her saddlebags along with your own and practically drag her almost a hundred feet towards Winona, then use what you’d learned from watching her to pilot the truck away from that place
  1295. >That place that almost killed her, which rewarded her with a seed of legend…
  1296. >Since then, she’s slipped in and out of consciousness sporadically and without warning
  1297. “Applejack? Can you speak?”
  1298. >”Y-yeh… yeah. Wh-where?”
  1299. “Shhh. It’s okay, Applejack. We’re away from there now. We’re away.”
  1300. >”I… I know where we are. Where’s the ele—ack!”
  1301. >Your golden-maned friend begins coughing profusely, and you can’t help but notice that some of what comes out is stained red
  1302. >No doubt from that nasty fall she sustained…
  1303. >”Where… is the Element?”
  1304. “The gemstone? It’s in the back, in your saddlebag. It’s safe.”
  1305. >”How… how did you carry it?”
  1306. >Carry it?
  1307. “I don’t understand.”
  1308. >”Only… by me… only I can…”
  1309. >Oh
  1310. >You thought this might come up…
  1311. >When your friend had gone limp, not able to support her own weight, much less that of her bags and their contents, you were surprised to find upon unclasping them that they seemed to be glued to her flanks
  1312. >No amount of force seemed to be able to remove them from her, and eventually, upon pulling as hard as you possibly could, the fabric slipped away, and you tumbled to the sandy ground with the straps between your teeth
  1313. >Except… you hadn’t succeeded fully
  1314. >You’d ripped the bag away from Applejack, but the gemstone, the “Element” as she called it, was still fastened securely to her flank, as though magnetically attached to her
  1315. >You carried her, but the weight of the Element made it that much more insurmountable a feat
  1316. >When she regained a bit of consciousness later on, she absentmindedly grasped the Element with one forehoof, and it split away from her with no effort at all
  1317. >She doesn’t seem to remember that, however…
  1318. “Don’t worry about it, Applejack. Just rest now.”
  1319. >”No. I’ve rested enough. A-and I want to know… I want to know what happened in there. I want to know why this happened to me, t-to us. Why we’re… why we’re DOING this!”
  1320. “Applejack, just—”
  1321. >”No! I want to know what’s really going on here, sugar! Why you’ve brought me along for this! What, am I just some sort of key for your lock? Some sort of… way to get this stone?! Because only I could do it! Only me… I… ahhh…”
  1322. “AJ, I know even less about that thing than you do! You know that!”
  1323. >”That ain’t true… you know that… no. Sorry. It’s my burden now, after all. And we already talked about this, didn’t we?”
  1324. “In some capacity.”
  1325. >”Dagnabbit, my memory’s all hazy now. Everything I told you about the cave before, I can’t be sure it even happened now. It was so clear before! Now it’s like…”
  1326. “A dream.”
  1327. >”Exactly. Waking up from a dream, not remembering it mere minutes later. But I remember your angel, Twilight. I remember her clear as the moon on a winter night. I was d-drawn to See Rock. A-and so were you. The both of us, we were drawn to it. It was no accident we took that detour. This Element—”
  1328. >Applejack groggily reaches into the back seat and retrieves the gleaming artifact, which seems a fair bit duller now than when you first laid eyes upon it
  1329. >If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was an ordinary ruby or other crystal, perfectly cut into a six-sided diamond shape and shining only by the reflected light of the sun
  1330. >”This Element called to us. We were attracted to it magnetically, or by some force so like magnetism it ain’t easy telling the difference. Magic, I guess.”
  1331. “Real magic. Mother Sun’s magic. Not this crude imitation that we ponies produce.”
  1332. >”Exactly. A-and that’s what I felt in the cave. It’s what I still feel now. I don’t feel like just Applejack Apple anymore, d-do you understand that? There’s something else in me, some kind of power… it’s everywhere and nowhere at once. It’s all scattered, like radio static, but when I look at it… it comes together to a single point. Do you know what that’s like?”
  1333. “No. I’ve never felt anything like that before. But if what you said on See Rock is true, Applejack… it may not be long before I do feel that way.”
  1334. >Applejack named by name the Six Seeds of prophecy, the subject of the Prophetess Celestia’s final words before venturing into the unknown
  1335. >Sow the six seeds, and in time, my kingdom shall be yours to behold…
  1336. >You’d never even considered the possibility, in studying that verse endlessly, that those seeds might really be tangible objects, ripe for the finding!
  1337. >And of course you’re excited, excited beyond belief, but at the same time you’re worried, more worried than ever before
  1338. >If this was the purpose of your Mission all along, if it comes to pass that the remainder of your Mission shall be to collect the rest of these so-called Elements and join them into one…
  1339. >Then what?
  1340. >What will become of the Faith? Of the world?
  1341. >Could the Prophetess… return?
  1342. >You refuse to dwell on such thoughts, allowing the radiant energy of Mater Solis to fill you with a pervading calm
  1343. >If you were meant to know the whole Truth of these matters, they would have revealed themselves to you by now
  1344. >But now, at the very least, you can be utterly certain that bringing Applejack along, sharing this journey with her thus far, was the right idea
  1345. >You trusted your instincts and the word of Numena in Rich Valley, and they’ve come to reward you now
  1346. “Let’s suppose that this is YOUR Element, AJ… yours and yours alone. In some sense, it could almost be said that you summoned it forth. And let’s also suppose that Numena intended for this to be your grandmother’s destiny before you, before she rejected the call…”
  1347. >”Then you must have one as well, Twilight. Somewhere out there. A-and whoever we’re going to find in Pegasopolis, they have one.”
  1348. >You look away from the winding road to regard Applejack, whose color is beginning to return
  1349. “How do you know it’s going to be a ‘who’?”
  1350. >”I just know. Between your visions, and my spirit quest or however you want to describe it, there’s another in Pegasopolis with our innate ties to the ‘seeds’. Somepony else who will feel the same magnetism towards us as we’ll feel towards them. If we… Twi?”
  1351. “Yes?”
  1352. >”You sure don’t seem all too fazed by this. I thought for sure that, y’know, finding physical evidence confirming all your faith in Celestia would send you giddy, the way I know you to be.”
  1353. “I am happy. I’m incredibly happy. Just… nervous, too. Scared, rather. Or terrified. Yes. Terrified. That’s an apt word for it.”
  1354. >”Of what, sugarcube?”
  1355. “Of what? Hmm… where to start? There’s the fact that you can now see through solid rock, apparently!”
  1356. >Applejack laughs heartily and adjusts her hat
  1357. >”I already told you, Twi, it ain’t quite like that. The Element sends out some kind of sonar or radar pulse, sends it all over the place, and then returns to me. It ain’t exactly like seeing, more like… my mind reaching out and touching space.”
  1358. “Well, thank you Applejack. That certainly does wonders for clearing it up. All I know is that if you really did sense helicopters coming towards us from the south back there…”
  1359. >”They weren’t after us, Twi, they were after the beacon. That second sun what you said appeared right when I merged with this here beauty. Heck, I’m more concerned with the fact that there’s some kind of Canterian base at the Maker’s Fist, in the middle of Nowhere, Badlands, population nil. They must have some real interest in that place.”
  1360. “Whatever it was, it’s none of our business. I’d rather not become entangled in such dangerous affairs.”
  1361. >”Might be the first time you’ve ever said that, sugarcube. Hey, look.”
  1362. >Applejack points stiffly, and you follow the vector of her forehoof towards a strange rectangular shape coming over the horizon now as you pass over another dune
  1363. >After blazing away from See Rock as fast as you could bear to drive, the rocky and barren terrain quickly transformed into a somewhat dry grassland
  1364. >According to the chart Applejack mounted on the dashboard, this area is known as the San Palomino, and though much of it is composed of sandy desert, the long belt over which the highway runs is somewhat more lively
  1365. >It’s also mostly the domain of the Pegasus Armistice State, which you understand is somewhat less than friendly towards Canterians, least of all towards Canterian earth ponies and unicorns
  1366. >Though you’ve never much considered yourself a Canterian, you suppose you are one, and that means that getting caught by a patrolling flyer might be trouble you can’t afford to handle
  1367. >After narrowly avoiding one threat, you’re about to thrust yourself into another, possibly even more dangerous threat, and you’re doing so willingly!
  1368. >Why, Twilight? How has your pilgrimage come to this?
  1369. >Where is the final destination of all this spiritual pain? Why does Mater Solis test you so?
  1370. >One step at a time, you suppose… and right now, the next step seems to be hurtling towards you at several dozen miles per hour
  1371. >It’s a bunker of sorts, or a checkpoint not unlike the one you saw on the road into the central district of Mons Canteria; a long pillbox, sandstone-yellow, jutting up from the basin like a single tooth, spanning the width of the road ahead
  1372. “Do you think it’s abandoned?”
  1373. >”I don’t know, Twi.”
  1374. “Can you… can you see into it?”
  1375. >”Maybe. I could try.”
  1376. >Applejack breathes in and clutches the Element to her barrel, closing her eyes and appearing to meditate in place
  1377. >As if in response, the Element glows dimly from its usage, and before you have time to ask Applejack what she’s thinking her eyes burst open again
  1378. >”Somepony in there. A pegasus.”
  1379. “No… what do we do?”
  1380. >”Well, we ain’t just moseying across the border like we planned… or didn’t plan, more like. We had no plan at all, and this is what we get for it.”
  1381. “Sh-should we turn around?”
  1382. >”Don’t matter now. They see us just like we see them. They’ll come after us, and I’ve heard pegasi can fly several times faster than this old filly can roll.”
  1383. “So what do we do?”
  1384. >The panic is palpable in your tone, and you do your best to suppress it in your features
  1385. >You’ve tried your best not to think too hard about your inevitable encounter with the PAS, with whom tensions are high among the government of your home country
  1386. >They’re a splinter cell, dangerous from what you’ve been told; dangerous towards those they perceive as their foes, which in this case would be the two of you
  1387. >This is a far more existential threat than what you faced with Sadd’lah, since at least then you could see his power before you, manifest in a few goons and their guns
  1388. >But this… on one hoof, you’re inevitably going to HAVE to enter Pegasopolis one way or the other, be that of your own accord or in chains
  1389. >On the other, you’d really rather it not be the latter, despite all the progress you believe you’ve made
  1390. >You’re less timid than before, more imbued with a certain level of strength and patience for things to come, and perhaps that’s Numena’s doing or perhaps it’s your proximity to this Element but…
  1391. >You feel the urge to take a risk
  1392. >It may not pay off, but if it does…
  1393. >”I’ve got a plan.”
  1394. “So do I. What’s yours?”
  1395. >”We could bluff our way through. Say we’re ambassadors or something. I am technically royalty after all. Even these traitors must have some notion of diplomatic immunity.”
  1396. “I don’t know, AJ. You’re the one that told me we can’t be too careful with them.”
  1397. >Applejack dips below the dashboard again, covering her muzzle again to cough
  1398. >”So what… huh… do you propose. Miss Sunshine?”
  1399. “You only saw one border guard in that bunker, right? We could try striking a deal with them.”
  1400. >”A deal? You’re unbelievable sometimes, you know that?”
  1401. “We have something they need, don’t we? We have foresight. We’ve seen their future, and we’ll only be telling the truth if we tell them that we just want to help them avoid that future. We saw flames, AJ. War, how far away I’ve no idea but I can’t help but think it’s coming very soon. If we were brought here by the will of Mater now of all times, what other reason could there be?”
  1402. >”You seem to be forgetting that we’re the only two who can SEE that sort of stuff! You remember how long it took you to convince me that you weren’t just some nutjob wandering around Rich Valley with a chip on her wither?”
  1403. “Flattering.”
  1404. >”So how long do you think it’d take to convince that flying fascist in there that we’re really some sort of prophetic duo here to spread the news of apocalypse to their highest damn authority?”
  1405. “It’s worth a try, Applejack. The truth is always worth a try.”
  1406. >Applejack sighs and stares off into space, rolling the Element idly over the leather of the seat
  1407. >She’s watching the light scatter over its facets, and you wonder if she sees more in in than you can
  1408. >It’s hers, after all; it’d only be natural that she could experience all it has to offer, and you only a portion
  1409. >This notion of the gemstone “belonging” to her… where did that come from? Just from the fact that she held it in her bags after coming away from that awful cave of nightmares?
  1410. >Or did the idea of belonging precede that fact, override it… has it always been hers?
  1411. >Could she really have summoned it into being?
  1412. >A distribution coming together as one…
  1413. >But it’s not important now; what’s important is getting past the border, ensuring that your Mission doesn’t end as soon as it’s truly begun
  1414. >”They’re coming out now. Slow down and play it cool.”
  1415. >Applejack’s warning proves correct as you ease gently within about fifty meters of the structure, and a shadow leaps from its flat top and into the sun, invisible
  1416. >Then, it grows out of Mater’s embrace, blotting out Her center as it swoops low over Winona and comes to rest in the dust just beyond the driver’s side window
  1417. >When the shadow turns, you recognize it as equine; it’s a pegasus stallion, dark-coated and silver-eyed, sporting a somber maroon uniform with a white-rimmed collar
  1418. >Against his right wither rests a tripod-mounted firearm, similar but not quite the same as the one wielded by the Military Police officer in Mons Canteria
  1419. >This one’s bulkier, longer, and far more frightening overall than its Canterian cousin, complete with ersatz wires looping crazily out in every directions
  1420. >Most unnerving, however, is the fact that the gun seems to be scanning with a mind of its own, sweeping in slow motion across the steppe beyond
  1421. >The border official stares through the window right into your own eyes, and it takes all your resolve not to shrink from that gaze and cower behind Applejack
  1422. >When he takes his first step towards you, you recall that Applejack’s shotgun still rests beneath the passenger seat, secreted there in case of emergency
  1423. >You would never think of using it, but perhaps if the situation became uncontrollable, Applejack might…
  1424. >No; no force
  1425. >You can do this Twilight, just… think of your purpose, renewed by the existence of this Element, reinvigorated by Numena’s comforting words, made possible through your friendship with this pony
  1426. >Remember…
  1427. >The official raps one forehoof against the window, and you nervously roll it down, removing the only semblance of safety against this pegasus
  1428. >”Papers, please?”
  1429. >Papers?
  1430. >You weren’t even expecting THIS much hospitality from an enemy of the state…
  1431. “I-I have C-Canterian papers, but I s-suppose…”
  1432. >”You s-suppose? Just what do you s-suppose, ma’am?”
  1433. “I just… I didn’t know if…”
  1434. >”You’re entering the sovereign land of the Pegasus Armistice State, are you aware of this?”
  1435. “Y-yes…”
  1436. >”And you’re also aware that the edicts imposed by our highest authority, General Hurricane, have prohibited civilian travel between our states?”
  1437. “Yes, but—”
  1438. >”But?”
  1439. >The official’s muzzle curls into a sinister grin, and his cannon swivels to point directly at you
  1440. >”You’re a unicorn, no? You hide it well with that shroud of yours, but it’s pretty obvious from this angle. And your friend?”
  1441. >He gestures at Applejack, who seems to have lapsed again into a fugue state, not quite asleep but certainly not totally awake
  1442. >”I see no wings on her. An earth pony and a unicorn try to cross into incorporated pegasus territory… it’s got the makings of a good joke, don’t it?”
  1443. “Sir, please, we have an important message for—”
  1444. >”SHUT UP! YOU TALK WHEN I SAY YOU TALK!”
  1445. >The pegasus’ mood shifts in the blink of an eye from sardonic to enraged, and he thrusts himself up with the force of his powerful wings to stand on two legs and lean against the windowsill with his forehooves
  1446. >His face and yours are mere inches away
  1447. >”Now, here’s what’s going to happen now. You should know that I’ve been stuck on this particular patrol for longer than I care to admit, and it’s been some time since I’ve seen travelers on this stretch of road, and certainly not two as… mmm… precocious as the two of you.”
  1448. >There’s hunger in his eyes… Celestia, this is bad, very bad…
  1449. >”Unfortunately, my superiors were very clear on the subject of what to do if somepony were so unlucky or just plain stupid to cross into my little domain. Any mishandling of Canterian civilians would be enough to provoke an incident, possibly a direct declaration of war, yadda yadda. All strictly professional stuff, nothing for you to wrap your pretty little head about. But, and I ask this with the utmost sincerity, were you really attempting to cross into PAS territory? You?”
  1450. “Yes, and I had good reason to—”
  1451. >”Aaaaand, since I can only hope that you’re at least vaguely aware of the tensions between our two upstanding communities, you should also have known that entering our lands would be a one-way trip.”
  1452. “I understand that. But please, we’ve just—”
  1453. >”SO! Seeing as how you had full knowledge of your destination on this little road trip, and because you are subject now to the authority of the Armistice State, it would seem that I have no options available to me other than to take you into my custody.”
  1454. >You sigh, realizing that the better option you’d dreamt up was never going to come to pass
  1455. >If this is the only way, then it’s the way you’ll take
  1456. “That’s fine. But if you’re going to bring us to Pegasopolis under your custody, then it must be stated that we’ve come with a message for your General.”
  1457. >At this, the border officer frowns, lowering the barrel of his gun slightly and passing his gaze between you and Applejack
  1458. >Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that she’s still somewhat groggy, but she’s moving around in her seat again and looks to be aware of the conversation at hoof
  1459. >She would know what to say better than you… why didn’t you just try bluffing your way through like she told you?
  1460. >Too late now…
  1461. >”A message? Is this some sort of threat?”
  1462. “N-no. Not a threat. A warning about events to come.”
  1463. >”Oho, a warning? What are you, some kind of defector? What in the nine hells of the Gorgons could you possibly have to discuss with our General? Are you Canterian Army?”
  1464. “No! Celestia above, I’m a Sister of Solemnity! My friend and I are simple travelers, but we’ve come with perilous wisdom, and it’s im-imperative that we get to Pegasopolis as soon as possible! If that be in chains, then so be it! But it must be done.”
  1465. >”Wow… sugar… that was… ack… something…”
  1466. >You’re out of breath, totally at the whim of this enemy soldier, and yet you’ve never felt more alive!
  1467. >It’s as though you can feel the blood rushing through your veins, feel your heart pumping away, so determined was your voice just then that it could have been your Matron’s voice, or the voice of Granny Smith
  1468. >It’s this Element’s influence, no doubt; the presence of the divine always seems to imbibe mortals with a fair dosage of confidence, or perhaps—
  1469. >”It’s all you now. That was… huh… your own voice.”
  1470. >”Ahh, so the passenger awakens. Do you concur with your friend’s statement? You carry some sort of message?”
  1471. >Applejack sits up slightly, still clutching the Element close to her flank, but in a way that keeps it safely concealed from the stallion
  1472. >She leans over you to address him directly
  1473. >”We don’t need no trouble. We don’t want no trouble. We’re here for your own benefit. Now I know you ain’t got no reason to believe what we’re saying to you, and you’ve got ample reason to be distrustful of a couple of strangers like the two of us. But if it weren’t important, we wouldn’t be here talking to you, we’d be as far from this place as physically possible.”
  1474. >”A likely excuse. But you’ll find that in my profession, I encounter a plethora of likely excuses, all of which turn more and more UNlikely as they pass under further scrutiny. If you do have papers, you will show them to me now.”
  1475. “A-and then?”
  1476. >”And then, little earth-dweller, you will be taken into PAS custody. And summarily dealt with in accordance with our laws. I don’t wish to—”
  1477. >”Ahem.”
  1478. >You freeze
  1479. >The voice came from behind the official, and as he removes his head from your window to turn and face its origin, you’re also allowed a better view
  1480. >The pegasus’ gun swerves about and positions itself at a level with the head of the new figure, who seems utterly unbothered by this development
  1481. >Rather, the pegasus mare, clad in the same dark uniform as the stallion, steps forth to come face to face with him
  1482. >She sports a gun identical to his, but her mane is short-cropped, fire-orange, and tucked to one side
  1483. >Her eyes are obscured by reflective goggles, which even now shine bright into your eyes, masking her finer features
  1484. >The stallion sizes her up, then, appearing satisfied, steps back a few paces
  1485. >”I thought the shift change wasn’t going to come for another week. What’s your name, lieutenant?”
  1486. >”Spitfire, sir. The Hauptgeneral requested that I come early. I have his sealed letter with me. Would you like to see it?”
  1487. >”Not now. Now, you’ll help me deal with these two.”
  1488. >”Who are they, sir?”
  1489. >The mare Spitfire takes a long look at you and Applejack, and the signals you receive from her gaze are strange, to say the least
  1490. >She seems less wild than her stallion counterpart, but far more dangerous
  1491. >You wonder what Applejack sees right now…
  1492. >”They claim they’ve got a message for the General himself, to be delivered to Pegasopolis. They lay no claim to the identity of the sender of this message, if there even is one, and they deny any malicious intent.”
  1493. >”Hard to trust a couple of earthies, eh, sergeant?”
  1494. >”My sentiments exactly.”
  1495. >”Have you searched their vehicle for weapons?”
  1496. >”Not yet. But tell me, girls, is such a precaution necessary for the two of you?”
  1497. >You manage a nonthreatening grin, silently signaling for Applejack to do the talking
  1498. >She practically stands up in her seat to get a better look at the two pegasi, then takes a deep breath
  1499. >”We’re armed, if that’s what you want to know. I ain’t got no intention of using it on the two of you.”
  1500. >”Armed, you say? With what?”
  1501. >”A Neighburg 77. Nothing so fancy as what you’ve got strapped up on your back, it’s a hoof-fire and I’m a danged pro with it. But again, I’ll give it over if that’s what you’re asking for.”
  1502. >”It’s what we’re asking for.”
  1503. >Spitfire takes her turn to lean in deep, her wings fluttering menacingly behind her, rising up to make her silhouette that much larger
  1504. >Even still, there’s this sense that something is not as it seems… how did she get here?
  1505. >Didn’t Applejack only detect one pegasus in the distance? Surely she would have seen this mare if she’d come out of the west
  1506. >You would’ve seen her yourself had you not been preoccupied with the other stallion, but…
  1507. >”We’ll be confiscating your weapon along with your vehicle and any other particulars you might’ve taken with you. You should’ve known better than to try crossing the border when we’re on the verge of war, you mud-crusted earthies. You’ll be squashed like bugs when we get to—”
  1508. >”Verge?”
  1509. >The other official tosses his mane aside and comes to stand next to Spitfire, his wings clipped to his flanks
  1510. >”Perhaps I am misinterpreting, but there’s no need to be so dramatic with our, ahem, ‘guests’. This is standard procedure, lieutenant; nothing more. And along with that letter from the Hauptgeneral, you’ll be giving me a more summary report as soon as possible after we’ve detained these two. And—hmm.”
  1511. >”What is it, sergeant?”
  1512. >The stallion rubs his chin and looks back and forth between you and his compatriot before gesturing for her to take over
  1513. >”Alright, step out of the vehicle. Now.”
  1514. >Spitfire’s poisonous inflection cuts deep into you, and you suppose you have no choice but to obey
  1515. >This isn’t like before; you’re in serious danger now, and if Applejack only agitates them further…
  1516. >You open the door slowly, and Applejack does the same, slipping out of her seat while pressing the Element into her right flank, perhaps just between the three apples which adorn it
  1517. >Out of sight, you hope
  1518. >Once you’ve climbed completely out of Winona and planted your hooves in the dust, you tremble slightly as Spitfire frisks you
  1519. >”Fine robes for a ‘simple traveler.’ Where did you say you were from, magician?”
  1520. “M-mons Canteria. And I’m no magician, I’m a Sister of Solemnity. False m-magic is a mortal si—”
  1521. >”Shaddup. Sergeant, you want to do a sweep of the ride now or… sarge?”
  1522. >”It’s all very strange, isn’t it?”
  1523. >The sergeant’s gun flares up suddenly, entering what seems to be scanning mode once more as he himself drifts along the dusty floor of this barren place to come ever closer to his subordinate
  1524. >They lock eyes with one another, and you find yourself inexplicably formulating methods to get out of this situation
  1525. >Isn’t this where you wanted to be, after all? If they’re not going to hurt you, and take you up to Pegasopolis where you might just have a chance to fulfill this part of your destiny, then what’s the problem?
  1526. >But it all feels wrong again, as though some piece of the puzzle doesn’t fit
  1527. >It’s a sentiment you sense this sergeant shares as he circles Spitfire, hovering ever so slightly off the ground
  1528. >”I believe I would like to see that letter of the Hauptgeneral’s now, if you don’t mind.”
  1529. >Spitifire raises an eyebrow, but silently acquiesces and produces from her jacket pocket an envelope sealed with wax
  1530. >Relieved into the wax is a symbol appearing to be six wings wrapped around a central axis, which you recognize from one of Applejack’s newspapers to be the Gorgonian Spiral, the crest of the PAS
  1531. >The sergeant opens it with his teeth and inspects it, merely grunting every now and again
  1532. >Then, he passes it back to Spitfire and clears his throat
  1533. >”Everything appears to be in order. Fears of an invasion, then?”
  1534. >”Affirmative, sir. There’s been rumor from the capital that that filthy Canterian Chancellor’s plotting something behind closed doors. We believe—”
  1535. >”Yes, yes, well and good. And I don’t suppose these two are evidence of such an invasion? Heh.”
  1536. >The gun mounted on the sergeant’s shoulder swivels towards you at lightning speed, making you wince
  1537. >”But I suppose, lieutenant, that you have been under the Hauptgeneral’s command for some time? To have been entrusted such an important mission.”
  1538. >”A few years, yes.”
  1539. >”Ah! So you must have been at the banquet in Palatine Hall, then? To celebrate the total acquisition of Highstorm last year.”
  1540. >”I… yes, sir. I wouldn’t have missed it.”
  1541. >The sergeant grins
  1542. >”You have a distinct Highstorm accent about you, Lieutenant Spitfire. Isn’t it interesting that you would have attended such a banquet BEFORE the victory over that city was secured? Or have I simply misjudged your honeyed voice?”
  1543. >Applejack stiffens in your periphery; she’s noticed something you haven’t
  1544. >The Element has whispered something to her through its boundless power of perception, its Truth…
  1545. >Celestia, you’d rather be anywhere but here right now…
  1546. >”I… came in the first wave of immigrants. I was loyal before the city council pledged to Hurricane.”
  1547. >”Ahhh. A fine example of loyalty, then. We honor loyalty in the Pegasus Armistice State, we do. We reward it at every turn. And we loathe treachery, deceit, all that ilk.”
  1548. >Loyalty…
  1549. >Why does that sound familiar?
  1550. >Where is it writ in the Books of the Sun? Why does it resonate with you as Honesty once did?
  1551. >Even before you knew Applejack…
  1552. >”But that banquet was glorious, don’t you agree, Lieutenant Spitfire? The first course the Hauptgeneral brought out was simply magnificent. All his comrades laughing together, eating that roast duck together… do you remember the roast duck, Lieutenant?”
  1553. >”I… yes. I do.”
  1554. >”Meat is something these pathetic land-dwellers will never taste, isn’t it? How sad that they will never know its exquisite flavor like we, at the apex of ponykind, do. Tell me what you thought of that roast duck, Lieutenant Spitfire. Tell me how it tasted.”
  1555. >”I…”
  1556. >Applejack steps back slowly, taking silent cover behind Winona, and you’re prompted to do the same
  1557. >The attention of each pegasus is locked on the other, and they don’t even notice when you cautiously step away
  1558. >Spitfire’s lips are curling back, and her cheeks are flushed
  1559. >”It was delicious. I ate every bite, sir.”
  1560. >”It really was, wasn’t it?”
  1561. >You freeze as the sergeant directs his attention back at you, as does Applejack
  1562. >He lowers his weapon and chuckles
  1563. >His laughter fills the air, carrying on the wind
  1564. >For a single heartbeat, you believe that everything will be alright
  1565. >Just one heartbeat…
  1566. >”But of course, my dear, the first course of that dinner was pork.”
  1567. >The sergeant’s wings blast out of his sides, and his mounted gun snaps around and fires three bursts in Spitfire’s direction
  1568. >The mare, however, has already ducked, and wheels about-face to trip her commanding officer
  1569. >The two leap up into the air and engage in an aerial dance of sorts, both trying to gain vertical dominance over the other
  1570. >Shots ring out from both barrels, and you and Applejack take cover behind Winona’s passenger side to avoid getting caught in the crossfire
  1571. >You’d bury your face in the dirt if you were able, but right now you can’t look away as the two pegasi fight to the death
  1572. >Why is this happening?
  1573. CHINK
  1574. >An impact rings out as a wayward bullet ricochets off of Winona’s front chassis and into the dust
  1575. >”My truck! You sons of…”
  1576. >But before Applejack can even finish, she’s cut off by the raging roar of the sergeant, who kicks Spitfire hard in the face and flies straight upwards
  1577. >However, he’s soon caught again as Spitfire follows, clutching his hindleg and pulling him down into a headlock
  1578. >There the two of them hover, Spitfire’s wings controlling altitude, the sergeant struggling against her maniacally, their mounted cannons locked together awkwardly so as to prevent either of them from leveling a good trajectory
  1579. >Their singular mass blots out the sun above, and Spitfire grips even tighter, blood flowing freely from her muzzle
  1580. >Blood…
  1581. >You don’t know if you can…
  1582. >”I was in Mons Canteria when you bastards took Highstorm. I was away when you ran it through with your hooks and dragged it all the way to this Celestia-forsaken place. I wasn’t even there when you took the lives of my family, when you drove a stake right through their home and didn’t even look twice.”
  1583. >”Gaaaahah!”
  1584. >The sergeant attempts a backwards kick, but it’s in vain, and Spitfire strikes him hard in the rib
  1585. >”I was going to tell you this was from the Chancellor, but that would be a lie. This is personal. Breaking your vicious little neck is damned personal. And it’ll be even more personal when I lead the Canterian Seventh Aerial right over this freaking desert, and drive it right through your whole damned city. So here’s from me to you, flyboy. One pegasus to another.”
  1586. “No!”
  1587. >One instant
  1588. >It takes only one instant for Spitfire to acknowledge your cry, as her eyes dart from their deadlock into the sergeant’s soul to your own
  1589. >But that instant is all it takes for the sergeant, who you suppose has nothing else to lose, to thrust his wings up and around his barrel, between his body and Spitfire’s grip, and break it
  1590. >When this is done, he wheels about and shoves her again, but she retaliates by spiraling in air, adjusting her weapon with lightning precision, and letting off another burst
  1591. >This one drives home into the machinery of the sergeant’s weapon mount, letting off crackling sparks and, from what you can tell, disabling it entirely
  1592. >The sergeant grunts and yells again, recognizing his disadvantage and choosing to roll down out of Spitfire’s line of sight and take off in a straight horizontal vector
  1593. >He’s flying to the west, flying faster than you’ve ever seen a pegasus fly, though there hasn’t been much competition in that respect
  1594. >But he’s screaming through the afternoon sky now, a bullet from some invisible cannon, wavering slightly from his injuries but maintaining a velocity exceeding even that of the maglev train you rode across the eastern country
  1595. >There’s no doubt about it; he’s retreating into the territory of the PAS, going for reinforcements, for further hindrance to your Mission!
  1596. >Spitfire drops down hard to the earth, and just when you think she’ll attempt to aim with her gun, she simply smirks and wipes the blood from her muzzle
  1597. >”That’s right, you traitor scum. Go tell your masters about me…”
  1598. >A few seconds later, he’s gone, erased from your reckoning as though he were never there at all, not even a trail of dust left behind to indicate a path taken
  1599. >Spitfire directs her attention to you, and her eyes are surprisingly calm
  1600. >”Congratulations, civvie. You just saved me a hell of a lot of trouble. I’ve been staked out here for half the day trying to puzzle out how to make that convincing, and here you plod along and make for the perfect X-factor.”
  1601. “I-I d-don’t know wh-what—”
  1602. >”Save it. Captain Spitfire of the Canterian Seventh Aerial Division. As long as you really are Canterian like you said, we’re on the same side.”
  1603. “You… wanted him to es-escape?”
  1604. >”In a manner of speaking. So, who do I have the pleasure of parlaying with here and now?”
  1605. “My name is Tw-twilight Sparkle. Of the Sisterhood of Sol—”
  1606. >”Solemnity, got it. Yeah, I heard it all earlier.”
  1607. >Your mind is racing so fast you can hardly think of what to say next
  1608. >A Canterian military captain? Here?
  1609. >Is she scouting ahead of some sort of charge on Pegasopolis? No… you would have passed them if they were coming from this direction
  1610. >And to let that pegasus go… why did she do that?
  1611. >Why would she want him to warn the city of an advance?
  1612. >Unless… if this is truly the prelude to the shared vision, flames over the city in the sky, a cataclysm and, now, perhaps the chance to encounter another bearer, another Element!
  1613. >If that’s the purpose to all this…
  1614. >You need to warn them, and fast!
  1615. >But this situation is bad; you need to get away from this Spitfire, quick
  1616. >Applejack MUST understand the same thing, so why is she being so quiet behind you?
  1617. “W-well, the thanks are all on you, C-captain Spitfire. If you hadn’t come along, we would’ve been in more trouble than we care to admit!”
  1618. >That’s a lie, of course, but a superficial one
  1619. >Her presence here has only complicated things beyond reach!
  1620. >”Well, much obliged, civvie. Breaks my heart to see good upstanding Canterians bullied by the likes of that jagoff.”
  1621. >You’ve no notion of what that last word means, but you can guess it’s nothing good
  1622. “W-well, ma’am. Madam. If all is in order, we’ll just be going on our—”
  1623. >”Weeeellll, now, hold on a moment there, Sister.”
  1624. >Spitfire looms large over you, her gun lowered and inert but threatening all the same
  1625. >”Much as I’d love to thank you for making my job that much easier, the two of you are still EXTREMELY under arrest.”
  1626. >What?
  1627. >No!
  1628. “B-but… why?”
  1629. >Spitfire chuckles and adjusts her goggles
  1630. >”Why? You were trying to cross the border! That’s a crime no matter which military you’re talking to! So, I’ll have to bring you in to the rest of the division, so we can iron out what exactly the two of you are doing all the way out in this desert, and we’re going to have a loooong talk about this ‘message’ you’ve got for General Doofus in his high castle, and… say, where did that buddy of yours go?”
  1631. >The disguised Canterian peers around you, scanning the length of this side of the truck and the horizon beyond
  1632. >”Because I could’ve sworn she was right behind y—”
  1633. THUNK
  1634. >Without another word, the captain drops to the ground before you, and you wince backwards as her muzzle lands just inches from your hooves
  1635. >When the dust clears and you regain your composure, it’s Applejack standing in her place, the butt of her shotgun pistoned out to land that incapacitating blow to the back of the head
  1636. “AJ!”
  1637. >”What? She was gonna arrest the both of us! You know as well as I do that that would’ve only made things worse by a country mile.”
  1638. “She was military! Canterian military! Oh, Celestia, this is bad, this is terrible! I didn’t want to get involved in this way!”
  1639. >”Well, we’re involved, sugarcube! We’ve been involved the minute we tried to cross into enemy country! Like it or not, you and I both already suspected that this ‘doom’ we saw was Canterium’s doing. It’s hardly patriotic to feed information about an impending attack to the enemy, that’s called treason. But I agreed to it because I believed in you, and now we both know there’s a higher purpose to all of it.”
  1640. “Th-there’s no point in telling them now. That pegasus is going to warn the PAS that there’s going to be war. War! We’re going to be in a warzone, AJ!”
  1641. >”It’s not ideal. None of this ideal. But if you’ve got the truth in your hoof, you’ve got to make compromises sometimes. We were already gonna be traitors, so what’s one unconscious captain gonna change?”
  1642. “Celestia, Celestia, give me strength, give me the power to see through the Holy Light to the—”
  1643. >Applejack takes you by the foreleg and practically throws you back towards the passenger side of Winona
  1644. >”No time for that, Twi. If there’s one, there’s more on the way, and she’s bound to wake up any time now. Get in, I’m driving.”
  1645. “You’re in no condition to drive. That thing has wracked your body, there’s—”
  1646. >”I said I’M DRIVING! Go!”
  1647. >All you can do is nod and climb in, allowing Applejack this small victory
  1648. >While she pulls the door shut and brings the engine to life again, you can only sit and think
  1649. >It’s all you’ve ever done is think, think about your faith, think about your Mission, think about the future
  1650. >Sometimes, your horn aches, but now the ideas come painlessly, and your ruminations are crystal clear
  1651. >Logical…
  1652. >Yes, there is logic to Mater Solis’ Truth, there always has been; it’s not always something that you can understand, being a mere pony, but Celestia the Prophetess saw it
  1653. >She saw it and spread its divinity to all who would listen, and now some small wisdom has been imparted to you
  1654. >The Element is powerful, and there are more to be found, more to connect into some greater matrix
  1655. >But there must be a purpose to that power, some greater good for which to wield it…
  1656. >Some greater EVIL to wield it against…
  1657. >Applejack didn’t tell you of all her premonitions in the cave, as some, she said, were too horrible to recount
  1658. >But she did mention eyes… inequine eyes, staring down over a turning wheel, belonging to a form which was dark and nightmarish
  1659. >They are all to come true, someday
  1660. >Someday soon…
  1661. >The truck carries through the gateway of the little checkpoint, on to the west, towards the setting sun, leaving dust clouds in its midst…
  1662.  
  1663. ******
  1664.  
  1665. >”We’ve been waiting long enough, haven’t we? What’s been the holdup?”
  1666. >The snickering voice pierces your left ear, and it takes all of your restraint not to lash out at its source
  1667. >You’d have never wanted anything to do with this stallion if it weren’t your duty to be beside him right now, and yet…
  1668. >You are Captain Rainbow Dash of the Wunderbolts; currently, however, you feel like more of an errand filly, doing the bidding of whoever annoys you the most
  1669. >Right now, it’s him: Ambassador Time Turner of the Exsilists, whose impatience you share in private
  1670. >You’d never admit it to him, however, since all the fear and anxiety he induced in you when you first met has fast melted into exasperation at his endless quipping
  1671. >He reminds you of Lightning Dust, and that’s especially surprising considering the very stolid and self-assuring image the Cult of Exsilium conjures in you
  1672. >Exactly what you need right now, another impatient little nuisance on your wing
  1673. >Except this nuisance has got a prehensile death whip for a tail, and Gorgons know what else up his furled sleeves…
  1674. “I don’t know how ceremony is generally conducted in New Exsilia, but here it’s improper to begin a council meeting without the General present.”
  1675. >”Then, pray tell, what is keeping your illustrious father up? Certainly there hasn’t been an assassination scare already, so soon after my arrival? Or… oh, how quaint! Perhaps they’ve pegged ME as the assassin!”
  1676. >You snap your neck around to face the grinning stallion, his augmented voice grating at your eardrums
  1677. “Ambassador, please, keep your voice down! And I wouldn’t be surprised, since even I still haven’t ruled you out as a suspect in this goose chase you’ve sent me on.”
  1678. >”Captain Dash, please. I hate sounding so dreadfully cliché, but if necessary I’ll sink to such banalities. If I were up to no good, would I have made you privy to it? You, the daughter of the very stallion you and all these stuffy pegasi seem to think I’ve got it out for?”
  1679. “General Hurricane made me ‘privy’ to it first. He wanted me on you as soon as you set hoof in Pegasopolis. I’m following his orders, not yours.”
  1680. >”Oh, but you are enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Something about your body heat, your heartbeat, your blood pressure… something tells me you’ve never attended one of these meetings before.”
  1681. “You…! Don’t you read my vitals!”
  1682. >Time Turner widens his grin and taps at his retina, which expands and contracts in a myriad of crimson hues
  1683. >”Can’t help it, love. I was built this way as a wee thing. You didn’t think I knew you wouldn’t rat out our little arrangement just because I was a good judge of moral fiber, did you?”
  1684. >You grunt and turn away, instead devoting your attention to the other occupants of the council chamber
  1685. >It’s true what Time Turner said: you’ve never had the opportunity to sit alongside all the top brass of the PAS at once, not in such a formal setting
  1686. >Sure, you’ve known many of these stallions on a friendly level for half your life, but only as the adoring little daughter of Hurricane, whom they’ve always been so eager to please for their positions
  1687. >Now, as you sit amongst the Hauptgenerals, the Kommandants, the Master of Propaganda, of Commerce, of Arsenal, you feel as though you’re among equals
  1688. >One day, you won’t need to be the escort of an Exsilist ambassador to attend a Grand Council meeting; it’ll only be daily routine
  1689. >And NOT just because of your inherited title
  1690. >No, you’ll be here long before General Hurricane gives you that, long before…
  1691. >Your father… where is he?
  1692. >He’s never been known for his tardiness to any event, at least not beyond the sort of fashionable tardiness expected from somepony of his caliber
  1693. >His newly appointed bodyguard, Bulk Biceps, is also suspiciously absent
  1694. >Murmurs reach the walls from all around you, beckoning you to listen to their speakers
  1695. >Time Turner isn’t the only one who’s become agitated…
  1696. >You adjust your wings to a more comfortable position and lean back slightly, ruminating on your activities these last few days
  1697. >After escorting Time Turner to his expected affairs, most notably his personal inspection of the nuclear production in Vulkanbezirk, the two of you followed up on investigating his theory of a Canterian spy within the ranks of the PAS’ high command
  1698. >You pored over the files of everypony in this room, at least those which you could access, plus dozens of other notables, in the hopes of finding a connection, some trace of allegiance left over from before the revolution
  1699. >You found none
  1700. >Loyalty to the PAS is something natural, something solid as rock; how could anypony who has devoted their life to its inception betray it?
  1701. >The idea that all this is predicated on what Time Turner called a ‘prophetic encounter’ on the part of his precious Highmind Empress irks you too
  1702. >What if she’s wrong? What if all this is for nothing? Could what you’re doing be counted as treasonous in the eyes of the party?
  1703. >No; it’s never treason to want to confirm the loyalty of those closest to General Hurricane
  1704. >And despite his utterly strange demeanor and appearance, not to mention his inherent flaws as an earth pony, Time Turner does at least seem to want the same thing as you
  1705. >All you can hope is that you’re not being duped, that he’s telling the truth…
  1706. >Or perhaps it’d be better if he were lying, that there’s no threat to your father’s life at all…
  1707. >”ORDER! Let there be ORDER!”
  1708. >Hauptgeneral Wind Rider’s commanding voice brings everypony in the hall to attention
  1709. >As soon as you look up to regard him, movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention
  1710. >From the great doors to your right, General Hurricane hovers into view, confident and poised as ever, draped in a dress cloak and flanked by his albino bodyguard
  1711. >Bulk Biceps… encountering him for the first time, still less than a week ago when you were called by Hurricane to his office for your special assignment, sent shivers down your spine
  1712. >He still does; there’s a darkness in his eyes, one you’re glad is being put to good use in protecting Hurricane
  1713. >The General lowers himself gently once he reaches his place at the table, his eyes momentarily locking with yours before flitting from one wall of the room to the other, taking a brief head count
  1714. >Then he accepts the minutes sheet from Wind Rider’s outstretched hoof, clears his throat, and begins
  1715. >”Gentlecolts… first, I’d like to apologize for my lateness. Another matter demanded my attention, one which unfortunately could not wait. Thank you for your patience.”
  1716. >A storm of spoken forgiveness begins to rise in the hall, one which Hurricane quickly puts down with his voice
  1717. >”Now, as our first matter of importance today… I would like to welcome our honored guest, the Ambassador Premier Time Turner of the Cult of Exsilium, the Nation of New Exsilia and representative of the Exsilist Highmind Empress. Ambassador, welcome to Pegasopolis.”
  1718. >Time Turner stands and bows, a gesture you can tell is partly in mocking
  1719. >The rage this stallion inspires in you…
  1720. >”It’s an honor to be received, General.”
  1721. >”Yes. I regret that I could not greet you in person when you arrived this weekend, but I hope your inspections have been going smoothly with Captain Dash as your escort.”
  1722. >”Certainly… the Highmind Empress will be most pleased that our Trust is being maintained to such a degree. I daresay relations between our two nations have never been stronger.”
  1723. >Hurricane chuckles and lifts a hoof in tired salute
  1724. >”Let’s pray they become stronger still when the Canterian menace is finally crushed, Ambassador.”
  1725. >”In good time. Makers willing.”
  1726. >It doesn’t take a strong ear to hear the audible discomfort inspired in some of the stallions present at the mention of the Makers
  1727. >That extinct race which the Exsilists worship isn’t so well-loved among those outside the Cult; while you’re fairly ambivalent on the topic, some consider them a threat to the very idea of pegasus supremacy
  1728. >Which is ridiculous, of course
  1729. >The Makers could not fly naturally, their only claim to the skies was in the machines they built which have only been perfected by the hooves of ponies since the discovery of the New Maker’s Handbook
  1730. >Their niche, it seems, was one of tinkerers, and though their reach was long and their history so deeply intwined with that of ponykind since their arrival in Old Equestria, they were never destined to the greatness promised by the PAS
  1731. >They were made extinct by the bombs, so the tales go, so the Exsilists enjoy saying as they themselves came out of the nuclear wastes to the west which was once the domain of the Makers after they left Equestria for good
  1732. >They died in secret, in a blinding flash observed by nopony but themselves, and though their technologies live on their fate will not be repeated by ponies
  1733. >The nuclears will never NEED to be used, that much is obvious; they’re a deterrent, an arsenal as capable of obliterating Canterium as Canterium’s own arsenal is of obliterating you
  1734. >Still, some of these stallions totter at the idea that the Makers may have been the masters of the world once, and that this somehow means that all that’s been built here is lessened by some degree
  1735. >But Time Turner, it seems, believes that ponies are some sort of rightful heir to the Makers; and if the pegasi are the rightful rulers of ponykind, what does that say?
  1736. >Your thoughts drift back to this place, this hall, as your father breaks what seemed to be an extraordinarily long silence
  1737. >”Ambassador Turner is present today, gentlecolts, because the matter which will require most of our time and attention today concerns the Cult as well. Ambassador, can I trust that you will relay what is said here in confidence to the Highmind Empress?
  1738. >For the first time, you see a look of uncertainty cross Time Turner’s features
  1739. >”Eh… of course, General Hurricane. I am but the conduit through which the Empress’ will is made known.”
  1740. >”Very good.”
  1741. >Hurricane sets down the minutes and nods to Bulk Biceps, who hands him a simple manila folder to read from
  1742. >What’s going on?
  1743. >When Time Turner, and by extension you, were invited to this council meeting this morning, nothing like this was mentioned…
  1744. >”Approximately eighteen hours ago, an incident occurred at Border Station Gamma on our southeastern border, near where the San Palomino meets the Elysian Fields. This incident is confidential; it was reported directly to me by the official present and involved at the scene in a debriefing which occurred just this morning. This does not leave this room.”
  1745. >Border Station Gamma… that’s almost three hundred miles from here
  1746. >And a border guard flew from there to Pegasopolis in only a few hours?
  1747. >”At 1700 hours last night, this same border official was physically assaulted by a mare disguised as a fellow PAS border guard, and who identified herself by name as the leader of the ‘Canterian Seventh Aerial,’ a winged division of the Canterian Army. This ‘Spitfire,’ as she also named herself, has been confirmed to be the commander of this division by our intelligence and identified by our border official as the same mare who approached and attempted to overpower him. Also present were two Canterian mares, identities yet unknown, one unicorn and one earth pony traveling by motor vehicle and attempting to enter PAS territory. These two were possibly accomplices of our Spitfire, but no such connection has yet been confirmed.”
  1748. >A commander of a Canterian Army division? So far south?
  1749. >Why? Why would she do something like that? A direct single assault from such an angle?
  1750. >As soon as you think this, Kommandant Skyburst asks a question to the same effect, to which Hurricane merely frowns
  1751. >”We’re unsure for now. Where there’s one Canterian field operative, especially one of that distinction, there are certainly likely to be more. From the official’s testimony, I personally believe it’s possible she intentionally allowed him to escape and relay this incident to us here. Her reasoning for this, or rather, the reasoning of Canterian high command, I’ve not been able to puzzle out.”
  1752. >”Do you think the Canterians are planning an invasion from the south?”
  1753. >Wind Rider noticeably struggles to get the words out; he looks choked up for some reason
  1754. >”Why would they?”
  1755. >Hauptgeneral Cloud Chaser counters with his own distinct lisp:
  1756. >”Barring whatever tactical dithadvantage they’ve put themthelves at by notifying us of their arrival, the fact is that a Canterian invathion from the thouth would be a logistical nightmare for them. Their conthentration for the last several months has been in Unicronia against the Exsilists, far to the north. If they were to try and thplit their forces, one would imagine they’d have the thense to march straight.”
  1757. >“I agree. Border Station Gamma, you said? They’d have to have made expedition practically through the Badlands to approach us there without alerting us to their presence earlier. Why not just take the easy route from the northeast, one which would give them two direct supply lines, from their Unicronian front AND from their homeland?”
  1758. >Hurricane nods, then gazes wearily at Time Turner across the room
  1759. >”Which is precisely why I’ve invited our dear Ambassador today. Ambassador, have you received any intel whatsoever suggesting that the Canterians have sent a detachment down from Unicronia to begin a direct assault on our borders?”
  1760. >”Ah… let’s see… it’s unlikely. Though I’d be the last pony to be made aware of such daunting matters. Tactics were never my strong suit. But I do agree with your advisors, General, in that Canterium making way on the southern road of all routes seems like suicide.”
  1761. >”My thoughts exactly. Which is why I’ve also decided to include in this briefing another notable event which has not yet been made public.”
  1762. >Hurricane slips one sheet out of the folder and passes it to his left to Wind Rider
  1763. >Wind Rider stares in abject shock, then passes it on
  1764. >”Wh-what is this?”
  1765. >”This was taken by one of our aerial drones yesterday, approximately four hours prior to the incident at Border Station Gamma. The quality’s for crap, but I’m sure you can make it out. Incidentally, and I’ve confirmed this, the location of this image is just about four hours driving distance east of Gamma. Isn’t that a puzzle and a half?”
  1766. >”Is this… is this nuclear?”
  1767. >Skyburst’s hooves shudder as he too passes to his left, and the paper approaches you by one step
  1768. >”The labcoats say no, it’s not characteristic of a nuclear detonation at all. This is something else entirely. The radiation pattern recorded by the drone’s spectroscopic scanners were like nothing they’d ever seen before.”
  1769. >Out of the corner of your eye, Time Turner perks up
  1770. >”Spectroscopic, you say? What was this drone’s nominal function?”
  1771. >”Technically, Ambassador, that’s classified information. But off the records, this radiation burst occurred only a few dozen kilometers away from the Maker’s Fist. Yes, THAT Maker’s Fist. Now, as many of you know, under the umbrella of Canterium’s Ordo Intelligentia. We’ve been monitoring that station and others like it for suspicious activity. Activity like this.”
  1772. >Finally, the paper enters your own hooves, and you find that they’re trembling as well before you even lay eyes on the image printed on it
  1773. >It’s a blurry, black and white pegasus-eye view of a light appearing almost brighter than the sun, floating massively over a craggy peak and the desert wastes below
  1774. >Before you can really even take it all in, a thought strikes you
  1775. >It stops your heart for a moment
  1776. >The
  1777. >White
  1778. >Sunset
  1779. >It’s visible in your mind now, the dream you had, except it isn’t a dream now it’s real, it’s right here in your hoof, it’s what you’ve been seeing this light, this light that’s eating the world
  1780. >The tick of Time Turner’s watch is resonating in your head, tick tick tick, and it’s giant and crimson and glorious and you don’t know where you are or what you’re doing or why you aren’t entering—
  1781. >…
  1782. >And then, the paper’s out of your hooves, snatched away by Time Turner, and the feeling subsides
  1783. >These memories… memories of events yet to come… what in the name of the Gorgons is going on?
  1784. >A prophetic encounter… no, it’s nothing
  1785. >Daydreams, that’s all
  1786. >Time Turner looks perturbed by the image, as though he knows something about it nopony else present does, but then merely shrugs and passes it on
  1787. >”So you think it’s their doing? Some sort of new weapon, perhaps?”
  1788. >”I don’t think I’ve got any room to speak on that without revealing my own ignorance, ambassador. My primary focus right now is to determine what’s going to happen if this Spitfire really is leading a contingent towards us, and how prepared we are for a direct engagement with the enemy.”
  1789. “These two mares.”
  1790. >Everypony turns to glare at you, and you realize you spoke those words without even thinking
  1791. >Why did you speak? You’re not here as a member of this council!
  1792. >Time Turner is grinning like a maniac, and you’ve got nowhere to run or hide so you just have to speak…
  1793. “Wh-what I mean is, these two mares you mentioned. The ones trying to enter PAS territory. Did they succeed? Or were they subdued?”
  1794. >”Unfortunately, Captain Dash, we’re not certain. The border official we debriefed was the only one present at the scene, and he managed to escape before his life was put at risk. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say yes. Nothing stopping them, of course.”
  1795. >”Then we should send out a search party. Apprehend them, General. Find out what the hell they know about all this, what the Canterians are planning. We need certainty right now more than anything.”
  1796. >”We altho need to mobilize our legions. Not a difficult prothpect conthidering we’ve kept them in retherve for exactly this kind of thituation, but… if they’re coming from the thouth, they’re coming from the thouth. That’s the scenario we need to prepare for.”
  1797. >”Unless it’s all a diversion, of course.”
  1798. >Time Turner’s tail wriggles upward like a charmed serpent, stroking his mane on its way up
  1799. >Behind him, his own two eyeless cyborg companions stand motionless, as though they were part of the décor
  1800. >All eyes are on Time Turner, though it feels like they’re on you again
  1801. >”What are you suggesting, ambassador?”
  1802. >”Only that the facts, and our esteemed General’s intuition, seem to suggest that this Spitfire wanted our stallion to come home and tell us all this. They wanted us to arrive at the conclusion we’ve arrived at, that there’s to be a Canterian assault from the south, rather than the much more logical approach from the northeast. They wanted us to have this precise conversation… and, by that same logic, they wanted somepony to say what I’m saying now.”
  1803. >”Thounds to me like you’re thpeaking in thircles, ambassador.”
  1804. >”Quite the contrary. I’m only eliminating certain possibilities. Say Chancellor Neighsay wanted to feint the PAS, and I mean REALLY trick you all good. Psych you out until you don’t know up from down. If I were in his coat, I’d do something similar to this. Convince you it’s got to be a bluff, or a fakeout. That there’s no chance in hell that they’d try something as ridiculous as a southern expedition, that either there’s no threat at all, or if there is it’s coming from a different direction. So now we don’t know where to mount a defense, where to position our now very panicked troops to defend beloved Pegasopolis. Except, of course, Pegasopolis itself.”
  1805. >Hauptgeneral Skyburst pounds the table in frustration, his face beet-red
  1806. >”Then what? We mount no defensive campaign at all? We leave the borders unchecked? Ambassador, you were quite right when you said you’ve got no tactical sense! We need to fly our troops SOMEWHERE!”
  1807. >”Where, then?”
  1808. >General Hurricane glares at Skyburst, clearly weighed down by all of this
  1809. >”The ambassador’s right. If we split our forces they’ll march right over us. If we choose one or the other then we’ve got a coin flip on our hooves, and if there’s one field pegasi have historically struggled in it’s that of sheer luck. Neighsay’s a tricky bitch… we all know he pulls the strings through his joke of a military command. And we also know from our Imperialist sources in the Canterian Senatori that he’s been entertaining the idea of a direct assault on us for a while now. If it were a bluff yesterday, it isn’t today. The only way to ensure that we win this fight is to position ourselves in the one place we know they’ll attack.”
  1810. >”B-but… for heaven’s sake, General Hurricane, surely there’s another option? To back ourselves up so deep into our own borders… it’s disgraceful! And barring that, it’ supremely risky! If we can’t defend our own borders from the Canterian dogs, then what does that say about the future of the PAS?”
  1811. >”I’m not interested in our future right now, Hauptgeneral. I’m interested in our present survival. This place… this nation of free pegasi, unrestrained by Canterian tyranny… it’s been my dream all my life. But we have to be realistic now, look at the facts and answer this: in a head-to-head collision, are we alone strong enough right now to beat them?”
  1812. >”I… I…”
  1813. >”Great care has gone into the building of this city. We will not let them tear it down. Borders be damned, it’s a line we’ve drawn in the sand. It doesn’t mean anything while Canterium still exists. Ambassador, is there any chance the Highmind Empress could supply us with a few auxiliaries of Exsilists?”
  1814. >“Perhaps. I’ll be frank with you, General, there’s been tension. Internal… tension. I’ve already informed Captain Dash of this, but the Highmind Empress is currently in Unicronia, directly overseeing the siege.”
  1815. >”Oh? Don’t tell me there have been difficulties, ambassador.”
  1816. >”Far from it. But our Trust is… shall we say… a contract. A piece of paper. You supply us with nuclears, we agree to divide Canterium’s corpse evenly between us. But… if we were to show direct military union with the PAS against Canterium, I mean, if we were to become a united force in that way… we don’t know how that would affect things.”
  1817. >”Is that a no?”
  1818. >”As I said, it’s a perhaps. I’ll convene with the Highmind Empress on the subject when I inform her of everything else that was said here today, but as it stands… I can promise nothing.”
  1819. >General Hurricane strokes the stubble which adorns his chin, and you notice it’s a bit more unkempt than usual
  1820. >He keeps it at a certain length, a certain rough edge, to inspire an image… now he appears almost haggard, distraught
  1821. >With everything that’s on his plate now, how could he not be?
  1822. >You’re terrified of that appearance, terrified of what might happen in the next few days that could scare even your father, who fears nothing…
  1823. >”Fine. Kommandants, pass down the command that we mobilize as soon as possible. We’re to have a total defensive perimeter around the city both at sky level and on the ground, five clicks in every direction. Total blockade, I want nothing to enter or leave Pegasopolis without thorough inspection by military customs officers. NOT civilian. Anypony even suspected of Canterian sympathies is to be detained until further notice. And one other thing. Stormy Skies?”
  1824. >The Master of Arsenal stands at attention
  1825. >”Prep the launch site. I want every bomb we’ve got pointed directly at Mons Canteria. If they take us down, we’ll return the favor. A firestorm the likes of which only your Maker gods have ever known, Ambassador Time Turner.”
  1826. >Time Turner grins and nods, though internally you know he’s highly opposed to that idea
  1827. >If mutually assured destruction does occur between the PAS and Canterium, the only thing left for the Cult to inherit will be ashes and bones
  1828. >”A quethtion for the Ambathador, while we’re on the topic.”
  1829. >Cloud Chaser’s black hoof points across the table, as though accusing Time Turner of witchcraft for the way his two-meter chrome tail dances and writhes
  1830. >”This picture… we’ve all theen it now. Your kind is intimately familiar with the New Maker’s Handbook and its contents… what do you reckon could cauthe thomething like that to occur?”
  1831. >For an instant, Time Turner clutches at his watch, then stops himself when he realizes you’re watching
  1832. >As though he’s been found out…
  1833. >”Haven’t the foggiest. Though if I were to venture a guess, I’d say it isn’t technological at all. Seems far more magical in origin.”
  1834. >Magic…
  1835. >Another thing so many despise, but towards which you’re relatively indifferent towards
  1836. >While you do think it’s merely sad that so many unicorns, save for those of Unicronia, have abandoned their gift in the wake of the New Maker’s Handbook, you also recognize that it’s only due to the Cult’s influence that magic is so reviled here in the PAS
  1837. >They hate it all, even pegasus magic of the sort which allows pegasus cities to float without the need for repulsion fields, so the PAS has conceded to maintain the Trust
  1838. >Odd, then, that this high-ranking member of the Cult should know magic just by a glance…
  1839. >He said he was a slave as a foal, didn’t he?
  1840. >”Notice the high-energy bands around the center of the field, how they’re all slightly off-center… it isn’t what one would expect from an ordinary radiation distribution. I’d need to see it in motion, but I’m imagining oscillatory motion in 2-dimensions, a mass focusing on a point but not quite perfect yet. Not quite there. Still spinning somewhere else… still deciding where it’s going to land…”
  1841. ”You got all that from one glance at that grainy-ass mess?”
  1842. >There you go, opening your mouth again; fortunately, Time Turner doesn’t seem to mind, unlike everypony else in this place
  1843. >”We all see different things in magic, Captain Dash. I see the orbits of planets, or the motion of electrons about a nucleus. I sense you saw something… altogether unique, didn’t you?”
  1844. >What?
  1845. >What does he know about the white sunset?
  1846. >What does he know about what you’ve seen in those sleepless dreams, in the quiet midnight of the San Palomino?
  1847. >Alone, alone, alone…
  1848. >Nothing; he doesn’t know anything at all
  1849. >He’s just being his usual freaky self, aware of everything, mocking the world with his grin
  1850. >He really is just like Lightning Dust in that way
  1851. >”In any case, General, it’ll be done. My soldiers will be happy to come off the beat for a few weeks, even if it does turn out to be a false alarm. And we can only hope that’s what it is, a false alarm.”
  1852. >”Hmmph. You’re all looking at this the wrong way. This shouldn’t be a fright, it should be an opportunity. If we can win a decisive battle with the Canterian military, a pitched battle where both sides know the stakes… we could begin a pushback campaign. We could actually mobilize.”
  1853. >”Do NOT forget, Kommandants. The Staatskongress has not declared war on Canterium. We can’t make decisions like that lightly. If we’re provoked into an assault, fine, but otherwise that sort of talk is meaningless at this stage.”
  1854. >”General… couldn’t you bypass Staatskongress? Sign a temporary declaration long enough for those pundits to make up their damned minds once this all goes down?”
  1855. >Hurricane looks up towards the vaulted ceiling; his eyes are bloodshot, his mind clearly racing
  1856. >It’s been so long since you’ve seen him like this, not since the last days of the revolution, when you looked up at him in this very same way
  1857. >You see the costs of all of this mounting in his eyes, all the effort he’s put into carefully constructing his haven, and if it’s pushed too soon, without the proper preparations…
  1858. >The cards might just fall to the table
  1859. >”I’ve limited my own powers for a reason, gentlecolts. I could exercise supreme authority, but unlike so many others in my position I’m not dampened by avarice. I won’t sacrifice my principles for this. If they attack, we defend. When Staatskongress makes a declaration, THEN we make campaign. Pegasopolis is of the sky, and we are the sky’s masters. What can the land-dwellers do to bring us down? What, but throw stones and shout to the wind?”
  1860. >The others nod in agreement, some more enthusiastically than others
  1861. >Honestly, you wouldn’t really mind if Hurricane took the fight to the Canterians; it’d give you a chance to wet your wings in real combat, after all, and those more weak-willed in Staatskongress wouldn’t have any way of stopping it
  1862. >But you trust his judgment, and from all his talk about setting precedents you know this is just a continuation of that
  1863. >Putting too much power in one pony’s hooves is a dangerous thing… even when those hooves will one day be yours…
  1864. >”So, with that, I have nothing further to say. Does anypony else have anything they’d like to add to today’s agenda before we begin preparations?”
  1865. >”One more thing if I might, General.”
  1866. >Time Turner cocks his head to one side, and one of his eyes freakishly darts to glance at your expression for a single instant while the other remains fixed on Hurricane
  1867. >You had no idea he could do THAT…
  1868. >After all, his eyes seem mostly organic on the surface apart from his ocular implants
  1869. >”I share Captain Dash’s interest in these two mares whose appearance coincided with that of Commander Spitfire on the border. Earlier, we glossed briefly over apprehending them, but I don’t believe anything was said further on the matter.”
  1870. >”Yes, well, rest assured I’ll have a search party detailing the area by sunset. If they’re trying to enter Pegasopolis, we’ll know about it soon enough.”
  1871. >”It’s strange though, isn’t it? If all this, the invasion, these mares, the explosive element in the Badlands, if all these are interconnected somehow… well, call it a hunch, General. Those two may very well have answers to questions we don’t even know how to ask.”
  1872. >”That’s an interesting notion, ambassador. What are you suggesting?”
  1873. >”Suggesting? Nothing, of course. I’m only a visitor, dear General, I don’t know a thing about the arts of interrogation. But if they are apprehended, and if they are questioned before this supposed Canterian invasion comes to fruition, would it be too much to ask to have a few minutes alone with them? The image you’ve shown us interests me greatly, and I think it would interest the Highmind Empress even more if it were revealed that these two had a hoof in it.”
  1874. >Surprisingly, General Hurricane smiles and hovers lightly off the ground
  1875. >He crosses the table to come face to face with the mechanical stallion, and there are almost visible vectors of intensity between their stares
  1876. >”I can do you one better, ambassador. We need a small detachment to canvass the area the two fugitives might be occupying, one skilled but discreet. One without certain… entanglements. Captain Dash.”
  1877. “Y-yes sir?”
  1878. >”How would you like to take the Wunderbolts out for a fly?”
  1879. “Um… oh! Of course! It’s an honor to… but… the ambassador…”
  1880. >”Can accompany you! We’ll have him outfitted with a glidepack post-haste. You and the Wunderbolts will locate that vehicle, apprehend our border-hoppers, the ambassador will get his quick word in edgewise, and we’ll have them in Pegasopolis for formal questioning within twenty-four hours. Understood?”
  1881. “Yes, sir. Consider it done.”
  1882. >”Good. Dismissed.”
  1883. >As the others sigh and stand, alternately walking and flying towards the exits scattered around the hall, General Hurricane motions for Time Turner and Bulk Biceps also to leave, which they oblige
  1884. >With all but you and your father gone, Hurricane merely touches your shoulder and fluffs up your wing
  1885. >”Watch him. He was very eager to speak to those two fugitives. He’ll get his interview, but I want you there, and I want you listening. You’ve gained his trust?”
  1886. “In a sense. You know how these Exsilists are, General. The wheels are always turning one way or another.”
  1887. >”Good. Keep doing what you’ve been doing. If this all pans out the way I suspect it’s going to pan out, then the Cult is going to have a lot to answer for. And the price of our nuclears is going to go up and up until they do.”
  1888. “Do you really think the Canterians would be bold enough to strike now? When they’re already fighting on one front?”
  1889. >”It’s like your mother always said, Rainbow Dash. Probabilities come in all shades, but at the end of the day it’ll come to a zero or a one. And I see a great big zero on the horizon, for better or for worse. Dismissed, Captain.”
  1890.  
  1891. ******
  1892.  
  1893. >Before you even received Agent Lucky Clover’s frantic message on the subject, you had been made aware of the incident in the Badlands
  1894. >If it hadn’t been your own drones monitoring the Maker’s Fist which picked up the radiation signature at the edge of its detection range, it would’ve been mere word of mouth
  1895. >Everypony is talking about it now; even the news managed to get some amateur photographs of the afterglow of the thing, swirling about against the midnight black sky
  1896. >By the time the parasitic photographers had arrived, the second sun had nearly entirely dimmed, but it was still all too visible, all too enticing a prospect
  1897. >You are Chancellor Neighsay, and your desk is stacked high with paperwork you won’t be working through for some time
  1898. >Most of it is comprised of charters and proposed addendums for the Liberation Act, which is now seeing smooth progress through the Senatori
  1899. >With luck, it’ll be passed into law by next week, and Operation Thunderstruck will be retroactively vindicated
  1900. >Ahhhh, Thunderstruck… what a brilliant move, Shetland…
  1901. >Complications aside, you’ve received notice from Captain Spitfire that the first phase of the plan has been set in motion; by now, the PAS’ high command has almost certainly been made aware of the possibility of invasion from the south
  1902. >And if they’ve any brains at all in those flighty heads of theirs, then they will have realized that this implies the possibility of invasion from the north as well
  1903. >All directions, my dear, all directions…
  1904. >In truth, you’d conceived of this ultimatum long before your meeting with the Imperialists last week, those lickspittles led by Blueblood, but it was only their persistence in their aim to see the PAS pardoned for their crimes against Canterium that made you certain it was the right move
  1905. >You stroke your beard and chuckle softly
  1906. >If your theory is correct, those dolts aren’t doing any thinking by themselves; they were TOLD to come to you with such a ridiculous proposition, they’re being used as puppets by General Hurricane himself
  1907. >And while you doubt the ex-revolutionary Hurricane is on your level per se, he hasn’t been without his cunning in the past; you don’t believe that he expected a favorable outcome in using Blueblood, Hoity Toity and Jet Set
  1908. >He knows about the Liberation Act, which means the Imperialists in the Senatori are not merely sympathizers to the Pegasus Armistice State anymore; they’re spies
  1909. >Passing information to Hurricane, as they’ve no doubt been doing all this time; you’d feared this possibility, but until now you didn’t think they would have the balls to go through with it
  1910. >Traitors…
  1911. >But so long as their treason benefits you, you’ll not see them tried for it
  1912. >So long as Blueblood knows nothing about your true intentions, as truly nopony but you and your operatives in the field do, he poses no threat to you
  1913. >And besides, your own spy in the PAS is working wonders
  1914. >Though whether they’ll go through with the task you’ve prepared for them come the day of reckoning… well, that remains to be seen
  1915. >From what you know of her through your go-between, her loyalties are split, and she’s conflicted
  1916. “Thank Celestia for the backup.”
  1917. >When Pegasopolis is taken, you’ll have not only cut off the Exsilists’ steady supply of nuclears, but also answered one of the more nagging questions that’s lately infested your mind
  1918. >How DO the pegasi make that cloudless city of theirs float, anyhow?
  1919. >Before you can venture another of your infinite mental guesses, the microphone on your desk beeps, and Moon Dancer’s low voice greets you in crystal quality
  1920. >”Sir?”
  1921. “My, my. Could it be that an expected visitor actually showed up on time for once in this place?”
  1922. >”Nail on the head. Should I send him through?”
  1923. “Give me about three minutes, then yes. I’d tell you to apologize to him for having no entertainment of his caliber while he waits, but then again I doubt he’ll mind.”
  1924. >”No, sir.”
  1925. CLICK
  1926. >You settle down in your chair and begin carefully offloading the paper stacks from your desk to make it somewhat presentable
  1927. >Most of these propositions, from what you can tell, are the typical affair; senators attempting to latch whatever petty legislation they can onto a bill that’s certain to pass before it’s too late
  1928. >You very nearly lost the images Lucky Clover sent you last night amid all the clutter when you brought them in for the morning, but luckily you recovered them before they were gone for good
  1929. >You examine them once more, adorning the left edge of your desk: microfilm prints of a file discovered by your trusty little agent in a restricted laboratory in the depths of Site 23
  1930. >You suppose it’s safe enough to keep these prints on-hoof even after your visitor departs; you’ll even let him make copies if he wants
  1931. >After all, if he’s the only one in this damned city who has even a chance of deciphering their meaning, then it’s not as if OI could trace their origins back to the eggheads in the Maker’s Fist who drew them up in the first place
  1932. >You yourself puzzled over the information contained within for hours before finally resigning to your own inadequacies; or, rather, the LACK of information
  1933. >Every other word is blacked out, those secretive shits!
  1934. >What precisely are you supposed to glean from something like “Scans of the occipital lobe of ■■■■■■■■ after the fact revealed ■■■■■■■■■, as well as ■■■■■■■■■■■■"?
  1935. >Or for that matter, even if the document were intact, would you comprehend it?
  1936. >The jewel, of course, is the chemical compound iterated upon in the preceding pages, which Lucky Clover seemed to believe was tied to this “secret metal” he overheard the labcoats discussing
  1937. >You’re no chemist, but even you can tell that the diagrams are nonsense from a chemical standpoint: the “compound”, if it can be called that, is composed of chains warped about a central axis with no discernable atomic composition available
  1938. >It’s more like a weave than a chemical diagram, but your agent in the field insisted that it existed on the quantum level, that this was Professor Neigh’s field of expertise
  1939. >Gluonic substructure… well, if anypony can crack it, it’s the pony currently waiting outside your office
  1940. >You know him only by his reputation: your predecessor in the Chancellor’s chair used him frequently for consultations in nuclear development as more and more precise tools were being developed for their manufacturing
  1941. >It was he who initially proposed the construction of gravity-fed water-cooled reactors beneath the river-beds in Rich Valley, a proposition which was advantageous in that it provided a secure location where reactive material could be contained, transported, and launched all from a single station
  1942. >You heard rumors a little over a week ago that there’d been a breach in the security of one of the stations which had yet to be staffed, but you held no concerns over it; nothing to see, nothing to report, right?
  1943. >But this pony… you’ve been reluctant to bring him in on such matters as these, for even if his identity remains anonymous to the general public, Black Bar and OI know him all too well
  1944. >If one of his infinite sources were to report that you’d had a meeting with this pony, he’d suspect something
  1945. >Good; let him suspect away
  1946. >For all the lying he’s done to you, you consider this fair payback
  1947. >You collect the microfilm prints into a neat pile to be presented to your consultant on his entrance, then tap the intercom next to them
  1948. “Alright, Ms. Dancer. Send him in.”
  1949. >Without waiting for an answer, you click the transponder off, unplug it from its cord, and place it in a drawer underneath your desk
  1950. >Your office is bug-checked every other day, but just to be safe…
  1951. >You hear hoofsteps outside your door, and you stand to greet their originator
  1952. >On the other side of that sliding door walks perhaps the most brilliant mind of your time, and you’ll be damned if you don’t make a good impression
  1953. >The panel hisses open, and the unassuming eyes of the stallion are the first sight you take in
  1954. >They’re grey as a storm, and behind their meekness is something terrifying and bright
  1955. >A mind of the ages
  1956. >”Evenin’, guv. Long time, neva’ seen.”
  1957. “My apologies, Mr. Brittle Bong. Please, take a seat.”
  1958. >The blue stallion moves slowly, deliberately across the room, though there’s an electricity in his step such that you can tell he’s concealing some truer nature
  1959. >Intelligent as he may be, that doesn’t stop you from reading him
  1960. >His cutie mark, a broken clock, seems tastefully ironic given his reputation
  1961. >And his manner, well, that’s another reputation of its own
  1962. >”Caught in traffic, I was. Loads ‘a folk comin’ up the I.C. from the lowlets. Me lorry were makin’ a ruckus anyhow, gonna get ‘er replaced one o’ these days.”
  1963. “Nonsense. You’re right on schedule. Please, take a seat.”
  1964. >The middle-aged engineer obliges, settling down in the same spot where, barely a week ago, that coward Blueblood very nearly had his throat opened by your night-clad bodyguard
  1965. >You wonder briefly where Pink could be hiding now, but dismiss the idea; you won’t be needing her with this one
  1966. >”’Aven’t been called up to the Mount for a consultation since your predecessor’s days, Chanc’llor. I ‘ad thought that I’d been right forgotten.”
  1967. “Forgotten? Hardly. It’s my understanding that without you, half the automated plants in the lowlands would be derelict within a month.”
  1968. >”Do me fair share of upkeep. Ye’ve got nary another pony wot can see those designs the way I see ‘em. No ‘ubris in that, just Celestia’s honest truth.”
  1969. “Are you a pious stallion, Mr. Bong?”
  1970. >”Well, the proximity to that convent’s opened some selfsame part o’ me, that’s for sure. But in a general sense, no. I work with what the Makers gave us, Chanc’llor. Whatever godly aspect’s in that, it’s one that can be read. Understood.”
  1971. “I’m glad you think so. Let’s see if I understand this correctly…”
  1972. >You retrieve the file from your desk containing the profile you’ve amassed on Brittle Bong, noting the array of photographs on the first page of the set
  1973. >So many from his younger years, before digital cameras removed the grit and soul from such images
  1974. >Pictures of a family; a brother, a brother’s wife, an infant nephew
  1975. >Smiling in that borderland home that would become hell so shortly thereafter…
  1976. >You flip the page and squint to make out the tiny font of such an extensive biography
  1977. “Brittle Bong, aged fifty-four. You lived in Isingeld, something of a frontier town in the Westlands, until the age of thirty. A family of watchmakers… an antique profession. Underappreciated nowadays, I’d imagine. Despite adherence to your birthright, you had other academic interests… graduated summa cum laude from the University of Unicronia, double major of industrial engineering and physics, with a concentration in high-energy particle states. Obtained an M.S. in the same institution, in which time you brushed withers with some of the top minds of the century. Unicronia… a very difficult place to get by without a horn, Mr. Bong. Was that your experience?”
  1978. >”Not so much me physiognomy as me background. I disliked… the culture there, in academia. Their ideas about the Maker’s Handbook, their fanaticism wot bordered on cultish at times… we didn’t see eye to eye, me and them.”
  1979. “They saw ghosts in those machines, then?”
  1980. >”Wot they saw, Chanc’llor, was frankly too small by ‘alf. Many of my peers, even the professors, no doubt… they went into the thing with an expectation that somethin’ unified waited for them at the other end. Like the Makers’d left a trail of breadcrumbs in their artifacts, like there was a synthesis in… well, I wouldn’t expect you to fully understand.”
  1981. “I have some notion. But you just wanted to solve problems, didn’t you?”
  1982. >Brittle Bong leans back in his chair, eyeing the floor with great interest as though there, among the miniscule ribbons of the carpeting, was an equation
  1983. >”There’s beauty in the formulas. Powerful things, the designs they kept in that stony tomb. Way I see it, them’s wot diggin’ out there still, ain’t got nothin’ left to find wot can’t already be extrapolated from wot we already ‘ave. Any beast can pick a tool off the ground and make wonders with it by accident. Real beauty, Chanc’llor, comes from intent, and intent comes out of knowledge. Theory… it’s always been about theory. Mimicking the Makers can only take us so far.”
  1984. “I agree. So, given such disagreements, you elected to depart that institution without reaching any higher. You continued your studies in private upon returning to your home in Isingeld.”
  1985. >”Those four years were the best of me life… me nephew was born towards the end, his papa… wot a stallion, he was. I was so proud of ‘im then. ‘Is watches were always be’er-crafted than mine, but towards the end… that’s wot I talk about, when I talk about beauty.”
  1986. >He’s an emotional stallion, you’ll give him that
  1987. >You expected somepony a bit more clinical and cold, given his reputation, but this… you’re surprised, for the first time in what feels like forever
  1988. >You divert your attention from his features and continue your reading
  1989. “Spring, 966. You published a paper on quantum field theory, needed to go through the university for approval. Publicity, and all that. The Sea of Night was already stirring, wasn’t it?”
  1990. >”Dun wanna talk about that none, if that’s why you’ve asked me ‘ere.”
  1991. “Hardly. Just nod for my own personal record if these memories are too painful for you to recall. You departed Isingeld for Unicronia, apparently got into a physical altercation with one of your peers. You were there, in Unicronia, when the Cult of Exsilium first—”
  1992. >”Stop.”
  1993. >Brittle Bong shifts in his seat and levels a glare at you
  1994. >You realize you were wrong about his eyes; they aren’t all grey now, they’re blue, deep blue
  1995. >As though changed by the tide of his heart…
  1996. >”I don’t need you to tell me wot makes me own life story. The Cult rushed over Isingeld, is that what you were gonny say? Enslaved me brother and his family with everypony else, that what you wanted?”
  1997. “The Cult made a daring expedition that year. Their first major encroachment on sub-Canterian territory. Legally, we could do nothing about it, of course, though heads were turned, and that was always their expectation and intent, wasn’t it? To turn heads. To be noticed.”
  1998. >”Look, if you’re askin’ me wot grudge I’ve got against them Exsilist hounds, you ain’t got none to worry about me loyalty. I came ‘ere to make a new life for meself.”
  1999. “Interesting choice of words. Your file says you were brought here to Mons Canteria, under government supervision, first as a potential sympathizer with—”
  2000. >”LIES! ALL O’ IT, BLOODY LIES!”
  2001. >The engineer slams his hooves on the desk, surprisingly fast for his age
  2002. “Mr. Bong, your temperament is not conducive to this discussion. And may I remind you, though I’m loathe to do it, that I am your Chancellor, and will exercise necessary precautions should you raise your tone to me again. Understood?”
  2003. >Then, as quick as it came, the sudden burst of rage is gone, and Brittle Bong settles down, nearly collapsing in his chair
  2004. >”They ‘ad me pegged for bein’ a sellout, a trai’or, but only because I’d ordered equipment from the Cultists before the raids. BEFORE! How else was I to do my work, my research, I ‘ad no federal grants, nothing. I spent me own bits on those materials because they were westerly, because they were good, ‘ad no particular care for the religious or political affiliations of the sellers.”
  2005. “But the sellers were Exsilists.”
  2006. >”They weren’t the enemy then. They were strangers selling Maker metals. Not wot we’d built in replication, but the GENUINE article. New Exsilia, wot they call it now, sits on top o’ the husk o’ the Maker civilization. Everything they ever built since the death of Celestia, everything since their retreat from Equestron, it was there for the taking, and they took, and I bought.”
  2007. “Regardless, you were cleared of that suspicion. But national interests weren’t finished with you, were they?”
  2008. >”Ye, they needed wot I’d done learned. I’d dealt with Exsilists more than anypony else with enough brains to know how they operated. They used me for schematics, f-for…”
  2009. “For the parts of the Handbook that couldn’t be accounted for. Your knowledge of theory was unparalleled, even your peers who so scorned you knew that much. You don’t just run those factories down there, do you? Your involvement has always run deeper than that.”
  2010. >”The specifics o’ the type of work I did was classified then, and still is now.”
  2011. >You gesture broadly around you, and at yourself
  2012. “Chancellor.”
  2013. >”Ye already know everything I’ve got to say.”
  2014. “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? Stand up, please, and come here for a moment.”
  2015. >Brittle grunts as he tosses himself up off the soft cushion of the chair, and trots a lazy semicircle around your oval-shaped desk
  2016. >When he reaches the other side, you key a trigger on your desk, and the frosted-over window plate which dominates the back of the room returns to transparency
  2017. >Here, at near-sunset, the lights of the city below have begun to flicker on, and a multicolored tapestry of shapes and colors greets you there
  2018. >Mons Canteria, the city on the mountain, once merely a castle and a keep, now a sprawling metropolis which extends for miles beyond the foot of this great hill
  2019. >From the uppermost echelon of the city, the summit of all achievement in this world, you realize how easy it is for those lights to seem as fireflies, dancing in the sky
  2020. >Beautiful, but inconsequential
  2021. >But you’ve long since pushed away that notion through meditation, never mind seeing the struggle on the warfront in Unicronia firsthoof
  2022. >Everything in this world has consequence, great and small, and the most significant events almost always take place behind closed doors
  2023. >Whether intended or not, a shade has formed, a tangent reflection of the World’s inhibitions
  2024. >You see it in Black Bar, his calculated machinations eating away at the security of this nation’s foundations even as he claims to protect them
  2025. >You see it in Blueblood and his cronies, their acidic dream of a return to Empire banishing any feelings of shame they might have cultivated while they betray their own country to Hurricane
  2026. >But the Exsilists… oh, the Exsilists…
  2027. >There’s something darker in them, something deeply nihilistic… to reject ponykind outright in favor of the Makers, not merely through worship but something, something…
  2028. >”Dark now, innit? For this time of year.”
  2029. >You shake your head, and your abstractions away with it
  2030. >You’ll lose your head one of these days if you follow this path too far
  2031. >Focus
  2032. “Down there, Mr. Bong… what do you see?”
  2033. >”Everypony sees somethin’ different, I expect.”
  2034. “What I see is potential. Potential for progress. Potential for liberty from the confines of our imagination. Every day, great things are happening all across Canterium, even as war rages in our borderlands. Conflict necessitates ingenuity, just as violence perpetuates a need for security. We can only create peace through war. This has always been the case.”
  2035. >”I ain’t no philosopher, Chanc’llor. I’m a scientist, for wot that’s worth today.”
  2036. “Everything, Mr. Bong. Everything. Now, I’ll ask again: what do you see there, in those lights?”
  2037. >The gruff pony appears to ponder for a moment, the gears in his exceptional mind turning
  2038. >For a moment, your eyes wander to his flank, and you can almost see the broken watch there turn again
  2039. >Turning like wheels…
  2040. >”I see… slavery. Slavery o’ the mind. To be braced with such understandin’, to be brought up in such a world… how can a pony think any different now? Sometimes I wish I was born before, long before the Maker’s Handbook, long before what we ‘ad was transformed. Although I s’pose they’ve always been a part o’ our ‘istory. They’ve weaved in and out o’ us ‘ere, now, for a thousand years. They were there at the genesis o’ the new breed, there when the Prophetess died and was reborn.”
  2041. “Not pious, I see.”
  2042. >”Pious, no. A recognizance, a fatal understandin’ o’ becoming. Of…”
  2043. >The stallion drifts off, the thousands on thousands of glow-globes and electric wonders beneath him dancing in his eyes’ reflections
  2044. “You helped to make this world, Brittle Bong. You. And now you’re going to help me with something.”
  2045. >You turn and reach back to the smooth surface of the desk, picking up the folder filled with Lucky Clover’s microfilm prints
  2046. >Stalwartly, you place them gently before Brittle Bong, and watch as his attention gradually shifts towards them
  2047. >His eyes are grey again, away from the light… you must know how he does that
  2048. >He’s certainly more worthy of your respect than any other pony in this entire building, nay, this entire upper haven
  2049. >They’re all cowards or traitors, they don’t see, they don’t SEE the true vision, they would never understand Operation Thunderstruck, nor anything else you’ve devised
  2050. >It must be done this way, however; nothing else can so assure your victory
  2051. >Brittle Bong, meanwhile, appears to be laser-focused on the crisp words embedded in those documents, poring over each character with care
  2052. >”Gluonic substructure… chiral undrilling… and, Celestia above… where the bloody hell did this come from, Chanc’llor?”
  2053. “Strictly confidential. Just know that unraveling the secrets behind this document would be of great national interest.”
  2054. >”These diagrams… if it’s wot I imagine them to be…”
  2055. “And what precisely do you imagine them to be?”
  2056. >”Goin’ by the text… do you know what gluons are, Chanc’llor?”
  2057. “No. Nor, I think, do any of my other scientific advisors. Atomics are not my specialty, as they are yours.”
  2058. >You purposefully neglect to mention that you never asked your other advisors, rather going straight to him
  2059. >You haven’t the foggiest idea which of them, nor how many, could be compromised by OI
  2060. >”A particle, an atom, is composed o’ quarks. From a theory standpoint, as was what could be surmised from the Maker texts, these quarks are held together by what we know as the strong force, one o’ four element’ry forces. The others bein’ gravity, a mass exchange, electromagnetism, a charge exchange, and the weak force, a decay exchange. The strong force is perpetuated by gluons, like a, a go-between for carrying the force between quarks. The quarks are held together by gluons, making atoms, which make up everything.”
  2061. “This research is subatomic, then.”
  2062. >”I’d be ‘ard-pressed to call it research, Chanc’llor. This stuff is as theoretical now as it was in my day. I mean, chiral undrilling, I can only assume they’re talking about negating the spin of these gluons, building this chain bit by bit… one would have to individually pick the gluons out of static annihilation processes, and piece ‘em together without invoking uncertainty. A chain like this would be the strongest substance known to ponykind by a factor of ten million. The tensile strength of a material based on this structure… ye could hoist this whole castle atop a few strands of the stuff with the thickness of piano wire. Assumin’, of course, it don’t punch holes straight through the foundation.”
  2063. >So the secret metal… it isn’t a metal at all!
  2064. >It’s an impossible compound, a paradoxical mad science experiment
  2065. >You almost feel the need to contain a burst of laughter over the absurdity of this thing
  2066. >So that’s what they’re doing there in Site 23… tinkering with materials that could never exist
  2067. >Unless, of course…
  2068. “What of this, here?”
  2069. >You point at the anecdotal report on the third page of the prints, to which Brittle Bong merely shakes his head
  2070. >”So many blacked-out spots makes it difficult to get a read… and permeation depth means high-frequency radiation’s involved. Or low… alpha waves? What the significance o’ this is, I ‘aven’t the foggiest. Reads like science fiction to me. Whoever you snagged this from’s puttin’ thoughts in ya ‘ead.”
  2071. “And say, for the sake of argument, they weren’t. Say it’s a real report. Then what?”
  2072. >”Then… if these two documents are talkin’ about the same thing, then it’s a finding, not a theory. A material with that type o’ gluonic substructure was discovered, and they’re tryin’ to see inside it. Using ponies, as ridiculous as it sounds. Alpha waves, radiation on the order o’ merely tens of hertz, they suggest neural activity in intelligent creatures. Ponies, Makers, everything with a motor cortex produces ‘em. But the wavelength being so long… their permeation effectivity is piss-poor. To see a substance ONLY permeated by alpha waves, much less only by alpha waves produced by PONIES, rather than a more stable source… they’re seeing things. Prophetic dreams… this is Exsilist trite. Is that where ye found these, Chanc’llor? The Exsilists?”
  2073. “As a matter of fact, no. But that’s an interesting comparison to draw. Why the Exsilists?”
  2074. >”I know enough about ‘em, wot I did… I did readings on ‘em. Their philosophies. Before the attacks, before the slaughters and the… well. They are obsessed, after all, with the spiritual connectivity between the pony and the Maker, and the technology between ‘em. The machine is everything. And within the machine, there are elements, and within the elements there are forces. Forces driving the motor of time and space, a-and one day the cosmos should open and take them all into what they call the Living Machine. Psychic connection with the Material…”
  2075. “No, I think not.”
  2076. >”Eh?”
  2077. >You shudder before the words leave your lips, not knowing if you really even believe them or not
  2078. “They already know the Material. They aren’t trying to see it, they’re trying to see what’s beyond it… what’s inside. What’s inside the thing… what’s inside…”
  2079. >Inside Site 23
  2080. >There is a secret
  2081. >More potent than you imagined
  2082. >Not research, no, no, not as you thought
  2083. >A discovery
  2084. >An uncovering of an ancient mark
  2085. >If only this were the Cult, as Brittle Bong suspects, it would make sense, it would be within the confines of their delusional fancy, it would not be taken seriously
  2086. >But this… this is Ordo Intelligentia, your very own intelligence agency, this is Black Bar, this is THEM…
  2087. >THEY have found this, and THEY are finding a tangible connection between the mind and the machine
  2088. >An indestructible Material, yes, they’ve dug something up in the Maker’s Fist and they’re looking inside and finding…
  2089. >Well, nothing yet, it seems
  2090. >What was paranoia, however, is now a deathly fear, as your worst dreams have been made manifest
  2091. >The danger on the homefront could very well be greater than the danger in the warzone if Black Bar continues to keep secrets like these from you
  2092. >But this makes sense… it makes terrifying sense that conniving damned stallion is playing with the boundaries of the natural law of the universe… that explosion in the desert, that second sun, that was HIS doing after all!
  2093. >It must have been! There’s no other explanation!
  2094. >”There’s somethin’ else I should mention, Chanc’llor.”
  2095. “Y-yes?”
  2096. >You clear your throat and startle yourself back into composure
  2097. “Yes, Mr. Bong?”
  2098. >”The implications of this Material… it’s beyond divine. It’s critical to… to understand that to take something so small, and play with it in the hoof as though it were a tinkerer’s toy, that’s to…”
  2099. “Out with it.”
  2100. >”To unwind the spin o’ a constituent substance, no, BEYOND the constituent, the transfer function o’ the atomic bond, that’s… well, you understand how powerful electromagnetic repulsion is on that level, yes?”
  2101. “Enlighten me.”
  2102. >”W-well… you take two protons, you shove ‘em together, they’re gonny want to fly away from each other. Their charge so exceeds their mass that gravity plays no factor there. Electromagnetism dominates. But you add in the gluon, and… at a certain radius, the ratio becomes incalculable. It’s not a matter of squares, but cubes. An inverse relation o’ the cube o’ the radius, and suddenly these protons aren’t repelled, but attracted. Smashed together like glue, inseparable barring decay. That’s the gluon’s power. To overcome every force in the universe. And whoever created this Material has overcome the gluon.”
  2103. “The Makers.”
  2104. >”Who else? It requires a precision beyond light. Beyond c, lightspeed. It implies an anti-causal relation, a-a… we already know the Makers had this capability. If they were extraterrestrial, as it’s common to believe, th-then probability dictates they must’ve arrived here by those means… but this… this is sensational science. The lengthening a-and shortening o’ spacetime isn’t just necessary for this type of advancement, it’s fundamental.”
  2105. “And the dreams?”
  2106. >Brittle Bong sighs
  2107. >”Dreams, dreams… I ‘ad a little birdie talk to me about dreams not too long ago. Do I believe in prophecy? More and more, with the world the way it is. There was magic, THAT was the dominant force in the universe. And now… you barely see it at all. It departs in the presence of enlightenment. It’s turned obsolete. But dreams predicting the future, dreams seeing beyond what can’t be seen with the eyes, o-or any other instruments…”
  2108. “What does it mean, Brittle Bong?”
  2109. >”One of two things. One, that it’s magical in nature, and beyond our ken. Or two, it’s anti-causal. Tachyon dreams, colliding with our narrow sense of time.”
  2110. “And which explanation do you prefer?”
  2111. >”At this point, Chanc’llor, assuming this ain’t all just hypothetical… I’d say it’s a mixture of both.”
  2112. >Both…
  2113. >A synthesis of magic and technology? A hybrid?
  2114. >Even through your narrow lens of understanding in such matters, that would be borderline incomprehensible
  2115. >But if OI is speaking through this… this HULL, as they name it in their report, that suggests that something is on the other side speaking back
  2116. >Artificial intelligence, perhaps… perhaps
  2117. >A discovery again, in Site 23, after all these Celestia-damned years… first the New Maker’s Handbook, then fifty years of rubble and stone, and now…
  2118. >He’s keeping it from you, they’re ALL keeping it from you, and…
  2119. “Do you smoke, Mr. Bong?”
  2120. >”On occasion. It kills ye faster, but eh. You?”
  2121. “Not anymore. I stopped when I entered politics. Wanted to absolve myself of my former being.”
  2122. >You gently tug the file out of the stallion’s hooves and place it back on the desk
  2123. >Then, with a sweep of your cloak, you turn away from those eyes desperately
  2124. >Those eyes which have seen the birth of the new world firsthoof…
  2125. “I need to know that you aren’t compromised. Internally. Absolutely.”
  2126. >”Internally…?”
  2127. “These prints are from an interior agency. Canterian. If somepony with your wit’s connecting this to the Exsilists, then the doubt my mind harbored about that is vanished now. There are influences within this nation colluding with the enemy to create… something. Something with enough leverage to tip over our very institutions. They’re working with the PAS, with the Cult, with…”
  2128. >Once again, you aren’t really even sure you believe yourself
  2129. >But what matters now is that Brittle Bong believes you, and you’re experienced enough to know that you’re putting on a damned good performance
  2130. “I digress. I have evidence of such collusion elsewhere, but this is an even more dangerous factor to consider. Something the great Brittle Bong considered impossible before now is not to be taken lightly. You’re certain that this sort of belief is Exsilist in origin?”
  2131. >Brittle Bong nods his head wearily
  2132. >”That, or t’was developed independent-like. In tandem, y’see. The Material this here is describin’ is almost definitely the work of Makers. If they ‘ave found somethin’, I would like to know about it.”
  2133. “Mm, perhaps soon you will. It’s information not presently available to me, sad to say.”
  2134. >”Not… you said this was an internal agency’s work. Can’t you—”
  2135. “Ah, Mr. Bong. For all your talents you are no political stallion. And I’d advise you not to pose such questions if you don’t think you’ll like the answers.”
  2136. >”If I won’t like the answers, sir, then I would like off now, thank ye very much. Dun want to get involved if it means danger for meself.”
  2137. “Well, there’s that famous cleverness. Unfortunately, Brittle Bong, you forfeited your right to be clever as soon as you entered this office, along with your right to be ignorant of the political side of this discussion. You and I will be working closely, you see. Very closely. I understand how you despise the Cult of Exsilium, so any notion I may have had of your being compromised by other interests are gone now. There IS collusion, I’m sure of it. Collusion with the enemy. Collusion which may lead to catastrophe. More evidence will come; evidence like this, from some of my finest agents. I need you on hoof to decipher it, as you have done with this.”
  2138. >”There are other subatomic physicists.”
  2139. “None I can trust as well as you. And none so gifted. Let us say, again hypothetically, I could procure a sample of this Material for you… would you be able to recreate it?”
  2140. >”No. Not at present. It’d take me ages, decades that I don’t have left. But I could do the next best thing: I could determine ‘ow it WAS made.”
  2141. “I find that answer remarkably acceptable.”
  2142. >You stroke your goatee, a bit more calmly than before, reconciled by this promise of new understanding
  2143. >Understanding which, given the right timing, can be used as a devastating weapon against the forces which mount against you on every side
  2144. >Then, with renewed priority, you replug the intercom and tap the switch so that your secretary can hear you once more
  2145. “Miss Moon Dancer. This afternoon’s meeting has gone quite splendidly. Please escort Mr. Brittle Bong back to the entrance of my offices.”
  2146. >”Yes, sir.”
  2147. CLICK
  2148. “I know it can be quite labyrinthine, this building.”
  2149. >”I know my way ‘round it, Chanc’llor. Not my first rodeo.”
  2150. “Let’s hope it isn’t your last. I’ll expect to see you again within the week, Mr. Bong. Oh, and one last thing!”
  2151. >Brittle Bong, who has begun to shuffle towards the sliding door, turns about-face to see you poised by the window
  2152. “This is quite classified, but a matter of this delicacy… well, I’m certain you won’t go spilling the beans to anypony, now will you?”
  2153. >”My lips are sealed. Not as though there’s anypony much left to talk to down in the industrial scape.”
  2154. “Good. Then you should know that one of your more potent innovations has been deployed in the field recently. A weapon, Mr. Bong. One never used in close combat.”
  2155. >”D-deployed… no. Approval for that would be—”
  2156. “Handled by me, and by me alone. I’m not asking your permission for this, Mr. Bong, it’s far too late for that. What I want is certain specifications on the limits of its power which were never properly communicated to the engineers who built it on your order.”
  2157. >”You can’t take it to the limit, Chanc’llor. I-if you intend to take Project Pericles to the max—”
  2158. “Shh. Now, now, let’s not speak its name here.”
  2159. >”Fine. Then that THING cannot be overclocked. If the regulation pump exceeds 600 K, then the EMP shockwave is the least o’ your concerns. It’s dangerously reactive. Under normal circumstances, the response can be directly controlled and maintained, but, Celestia, if you’re intending to use it in a military operation…”
  2160. “I intend to use it how I please. Then it’s settled, Mr. Bong. I’ll inform those responsible for its handling to be cautious of that exact figure. Goodbye for now.”
  2161. >”Y-ye… yes. Bon filthy soir.”
  2162. >Without another look from those grey-blue eyes, the engineer skulks out the door, back down to his jungle of smoke and motors
  2163. >You, meanwhile…
  2164. “Heh heh… ahahaHAHAHA!”
  2165. >You can’t contain it any longer!
  2166. >In a few days time, Operation Thunderstruck will go off without a hitch!
  2167. >General Hurricane will be decimated, and the Cult of Exsilium will have lost its supply line of nuclear weapons for the remainder of this war
  2168. >Seek and destroy operations will be conducted against the existing arsenal, but by then it won’t matter; the show of force will be enough to break even the coldest of those cyborg hearts
  2169. >They’ll surrender their petty claim to Canterian lands, Canterium will be free from tyranny, and then…
  2170. >THEN, the real battle begins
  2171. >The war against OI, against Black Bar, a secret war without guns or ammunition, a proper war of information against a worthy opponent
  2172. >And it starts with the greatest secret of all: what power, this secret and dark Material, lay dormant beneath even the New Maker’s Handbook for six hundred years?
  2173. >And what does OI plan to do with it?
  2174. >Well, what would YOU?
  2175. “I could dominate. I could PROVE. Pink!”
  2176. >Noiselessly, your Mouthless Jester’s long neck extends from the ceiling tiles, her masked head squeezing impossibly through the millimeter-wide crack
  2177. >You’d have been horrified by this sight mere months ago, but now it’s routine
  2178. >Now, the almost imperceptible rasp of her jagged breath doesn’t scare you, it excites you
  2179. >Because now, she isn’t a monster; she’s an opportunity
  2180. “My dearest Pink… I have a mission for you. A part only you can perform…”
  2181.  
  2182. ******
  2183.  
  2184. >”Thermal imaging set… scanners are hot. Alpha Seven, take position on that dune, there.”
  2185. >”Roger.”
  2186. >”…okay, I can see you. Alpha One, you too?”
  2187. “Affirmative.”
  2188. >”Calibrated. Mark ten, fan out. Beta Squad, tight check on me.”
  2189. “Copy, Beta One. Alpha Squad, keep close. Keep Beta in visual, don’t want to get lost out here. Thermal flare check in five, if I or Lightning—uh, Beta One—can’t see your flare we’re moving on without you. Copy?”
  2190. >”Copy.”
  2191. >”Copy.”
  2192. >”Copy.”
  2193. “Check. On my mark, that’s liftoff. We maintain low altitude, sweep, search for more tracks, search for smoke, anything. If a desert mouse pops its head out, we’ll see that too, so keep your cowl at the right signature calibration. We’re looking for ponies. They tend to be difficult to miss.”
  2194. >You are Captain Rainbow Dash, and right now the world exists in shades of hot and cold
  2195. >Light is nothing; it’s immaterial, so it doesn’t concern you in the least
  2196. >There’s none to see out there anyway, in the darkness of the desert
  2197. >The sun has gone from the horizon, but the heat remains, and the air is punctuated with a warmth that makes your coat bristle
  2198. >Not enough heat, however, to register in your new eyes, the thermal cowl through which you scan the dunes for your target
  2199. >Hot to cold, searing red to crackling gold to cool blues, to deepest black
  2200. >The forms of your companions, Lightning Dust and her Beta Squad, move like fireflies across the dark in the distance, floating soundlessly in their own direction
  2201. >They are faceless masses of firelight
  2202. >Though you could never hope to understand the internal mechanisms of these cowls, what you do know, and all you really need to know, is that the Exsilists designed them from Maker blueprints to trade light receptors for heat signatures
  2203. >Though pegasi DO naturally have better night vision than their surface-dwelling inferiors, there’s a limit to that talent, and these vision enhancers are intended to ensure your advantage in nocturnal outings
  2204. >You briefed the Wunderbolts yesterday about your mission immediately following the council meeting, where General Hurricane instructed you to track down the two alleged border-hopping Canterians and interrogate them
  2205. >What they might know could be extraordinarily valuable; if they’ve seen the movements of Canterian armor along the southerly route, whether they have any knowledge of the radiation incident which occurred above the Badlands from whence they came…
  2206. >But what you’re personally interested in is the question of WHY they took the risk of crossing the border in the first place
  2207. >Are they spies? Are they trying to pass further on west? Or could Pegasopolis really be their ultimate aim?
  2208. >Never mind the questions, Dash, when the answers are only a few steps ahead of you
  2209. >With the Ambassador Time Turner in close tow, you’ve been scanning the San Palomino Desert for twenty-four hours, searching for clues as to the targets’ whereabouts
  2210. >When you made camp this evening, you left him behind along with Blaze; no need for him to get in the way of the search, since his insistence on getting an interview with the targets has brought him this far anyways
  2211. >Besides, his glidepack can only run for so many hours of the day, and it needed recharging
  2212. >He’ll get his turn, you promised him that
  2213. >You swoop low over a nearby dune, close enough that your wing skirts along the coolness of that starlit sand
  2214. >You wonder if they’ve passed through here by now… while you did find tire treads earlier in the day that seemed to indicate a stopping point, there’s been no such luck for tonight
  2215. >Luck would bring you the sight of the white-hot warmth of a campfire on the ground, or even the curled-up shape of a pony lying beneath the folds of a tent
  2216. >You can see everything through this new vision, everything that matters
  2217. >To your right and left, Misty Sky and Starcatcher whiz through the blackness, likewise scanning the long reaches of the desert
  2218. >A few hundred meters to the south, Lightning and her team are sweeping their range, with the intent of regrouping in fifteen clicks
  2219. >Below you, though you can’t well discern it like this, the broken asphalt of the old highway scrapes through the dunes, mostly covered in sand
  2220. >To drive on that would require an offroad vehicle, something tough, something bulky… and if it was recently driven, it still might give off a bit of heat
  2221. >That could be something, even if the trespassers are blocked off from a bird’s eye view
  2222. >Even still, you’re hoping to glimpse more than just those two
  2223. >The REAL prize, in your book, would be to spot out the advance squadron of Canterians who you’re certain must be in the general area
  2224. >The border agent’s account of his encounter with Captain Spitfire baffled you at the time, but the picture is becoming clearer even as defensive measures are mounting back home
  2225. >Time Turner was right; the whole entanglement at the border was a staged setup from the start
  2226. >Maybe not a false flag, but certainly a way to force General Hurricane’s hoof into withdrawing all active troops back to Pegasopolis
  2227. >Captain Spitfire was placed there to impersonate a border agent, fail to overpower the real deal, let him relay the message back to high command, but…
  2228. “Something doesn’t add up…”
  2229. >”Repeat, Alpha One?”
  2230. >You didn’t realize you’d mumbled that under your breath
  2231. “No priority, Alpha Five. Just talking to myself.”
  2232. >”Solid copy.”
  2233. >It’s just that… well, MAYBE the Canterian’s arrival at the border corresponding with the two unidentified mares’ arrival was just coincidence
  2234. >MAYBE they’ve got nothing to do with anything, and were just in the absolute worst place at the absolute worst time
  2235. >But even if that were the case, they still decided to cross the border for a reason, and given their trajectory it’s conceivable that they witnessed the radiation incident firsthoof
  2236. >Possibly even had something to do with it, although you aren’t going to start throwing out random theories
  2237. >You’re a soldier first and foremost, and a soldier follows orders, and your orders are to seek and apprehend
  2238. >It requires no more thought than that, only loyalty to commands
  2239. >Yeah… loyalty’s gotten you this far, after all
  2240. >”Alph… ne, come in, we’ve go… tential sight on… in now with all operatives.”
  2241. “Repeat, Beta One? Comms are spotty.”
  2242. >”Shouldn’t be at this ran… cedure’s to move in tight. I can still see your squ…”
  2243. “Gorgons… what’s this damn transmission rate? Alpha Two, you reset comms before takeoff, right?”
  2244. >”Roger. We’ve also got visual on Beta Squad. Should we move in on them?”
  2245. “Affirmative. See what’s up with all this.”
  2246. >With visual, what could be causing this disruption?
  2247. >You can barely hear Lightning Dust, and it sounds like she may have found something
  2248. >Once you’re rolled back together, you can work it out
  2249. >You ride a gust of wind up a few dozen meters, then adjust your span to compensate
  2250. >What was just a breeze a few minutes ago has begun to pick up considerably, and you suddenly notice the density of dust that’s striking you with the current
  2251. >A few more seconds, and the wind is whining in the distance; a few of the Wunderbolts in formation in front of you stumble against the sudden updrift
  2252. >A rusty crackle indicates that Lightning Dust is trying to reach you again, but you hear even less this time
  2253. >”Al… in, go… ter before it ge… off… downwind, sky’s… alt… pass…”
  2254. “Repeat, Bravo One! Can’t hardly… gah, what’s this wind?”
  2255. >You don’t dare remove your thermal cowl if you risk all this sand getting in your eyes, but now you can’t even distinguish your altitude aside from your sensors
  2256. >And the number the sensor’s giving you is all over the place…
  2257. >It’s hopping from twenty meters to fifty to two… what the hell?
  2258. >An EMP? No, that would knock out comms and the thermal imaging entirely
  2259. >You can’t set yourself down now that you’re in the air, you don’t even know where the ground is with these stupid things!
  2260. >Far ahead of you, the tiny red blips of Beta Squad are beginning to spread thinner and thinner, like they’re fanning out
  2261. >Or else, they’re being forced apart by something…
  2262. >Gorgons, this WIND!
  2263. >The howls have turned to shrieks, and you have to clamp your ears down to keep the dust from filling them up
  2264. >It’s a damned sandstorm!
  2265. >”Comms range is compromised! Zero visibility on the ground, Captain!”
  2266. >Alpha Two, Starcatcher, sounds like she’s screaming into her microphone, and despite being just a few meters away from you, you can’t hear her native voice at all over this wind
  2267. “I’m aware! This storm came out of nowhere! But we can’t take cover if we can’t see the ground!”
  2268. >”Everything’s fuzzy… must be the particles rubbing together, giving off heat…”
  2269. “I don’t care what it is! If it isn’t safe to land, we don’t land!”
  2270. >”It isn’t safe up here either! Somepony needs to take off their goggles and—”
  2271. “NO! You’ll blind yourself, you idiot! Maintain altitude, proceed to Beta Squad! Keep tight, don’t let the wind carry you off! If they’re on the ground, we can take an estimate and land on their position! All copy?”
  2272. >”Roger.”
  2273. >”Roger.”
  2274. >”Roger.”
  2275. >Even as you speak the words “keep tight,” you realize how impossible it’s going to be
  2276. >Beta Squad’s heat signatures are getting lost in the haze of moving sand particles in front of you, and while they aren’t totally invisible yet the static just keeps getting stronger
  2277. >You aren’t even going to attempt to radio Lightning Dust now, the transmission range in this weather is next to none
  2278. >The sand rips at your coat, thousands on thousands of gritty particles pelting you at rapidly increasing velocity
  2279. >You’re less worried about your own well-being than you are about the equipment you’re carrying; if too much dust gets into the black box, it won’t matter how long the transmission range is or how fuzzy your imaging is
  2280. >Both will be unusable, and you’ll be stranded up here in unknown space in the middle of this dusty hell
  2281. “They can’t be far off now! Keep flying!”
  2282. >Misty Sky, White Lightning and Fleetfoot swoop into view in basic trinity formation, but then White Lightning suddenly sidles to the right and rams into the Fleetfoot’s side
  2283. >”Gah!”
  2284. >”Can’t… against this…”
  2285. “Hold your formation! Don’t lose track of each other!”
  2286. >”Broke something… Gorgons, you whipped me in the—”
  2287. >Before she can finish, another gust sends White Lightning careening again into Fleetfoot’s flank, this time causing the latter to buckle against the force and sending them both down fast
  2288. “No!”
  2289. >”Ribs… falling fast, Alpha One… can’t maintain altitude, guh… we’re go… fa… alt in… dark…”
  2290. >And just like that, radio silence
  2291. >Misty Sky attempts a downward spiral to regroup with the two, but after only a few seconds she resurfaces out of caution
  2292. >They may be safer down there than up here, albeit with a few broken bones
  2293. >You’ll only know for sure once this thing settles down and you can track them again
  2294. >If they aren’t too buried, that is…
  2295. >No, that’s not going to happen
  2296. >You’ll find them, but not before you find Beta Squad
  2297. >Focus, Dash, focus… what would your father… General Hurricane… do?
  2298. >He’d finish the mission, whatever the cost
  2299. >He’s already paid the ultimate price for what he believed in, so why shouldn’t you?
  2300. >This is victory, ahead of you… this is victory…
  2301. >The dust stings, it stings so much
  2302. >The feathers on your wings can only take so much before they crumple and become worthless for flying
  2303. >Lightning Dust… where are you?
  2304. >Where… are…
  2305.  
  2306. ******
  2307.  
  2308. >”…MY DANGED TARPS! TWILIGHT!”
  2309. “I DON’T KNOW! I’M LOOKING!”
  2310. >”WHAT?”
  2311. “I SAID I’M LOOKING!”
  2312. >”CAN’T BARELY… COMING BACK IN!”
  2313. >As the piercing wrath of the desert screams against the exterior of the alcove, Applejack recedes back inside, encrusted from head to haunches in sand
  2314. >She bucks her hat off, letting the sand it’s collected slough off on the cool rock, then rocks her head from side to side to coax it out of her ears
  2315. >Even still, her coat and crude body wrappings are hopelessly covered in the stuff
  2316. >You are Twilight Sparkle, Missionary of the Truth and messenger on earth of Mater Solis and Her angelic proxies
  2317. >This is what you repeat to yourself, after all, in the face of this terrible awakening of nature, along with other comforting litanies
  2318. >Though you are about as far from the salt waters of the ocean as possible, somehow you feel the despairing grip of the Naiads about your heart
  2319. >They’re waiting for you in your dreams, this much you know, ready to drag you down to the Depths, away from the Holy Light…
  2320. >In the howls of this sandstorm you hear their harpy cries, their dark temptations
  2321. >This afternoon, when Mother Sun was just beginning to set, Applejack spotted a small fissure of rock jutting out of the dunes
  2322. >You drove up to the ridge and found this small alcove, perfect for setting up camp in this treacherous territory
  2323. >Pegasi are searching for you, of that you can be certain; Applejack was adamant that if the border agent you encountered was able to reach others of his kind, they would be looking hard for you
  2324. >And they would NOT be kind, especially given the circumstances…
  2325. >You continue to lament the strange arrival of that Canterian officer during your crossing; although she DID give you the chance you needed to cross without interference, she also may have created more problems for you than she solved
  2326. >In any case, this choice of campsite has proven doubly useful now that this storm has unexpectedly closed in
  2327. >Mere minutes ago the night was clear and tranquil, and now there’s naught but a dark electric flurry to see out the single passage leading into this cool cavern
  2328. >”The cave entrance is gonna be all flooded up with sand if we can’t get some kind of protection over it. We need those tarps, Twilight!”
  2329. “I’m looking! I checked the bags, they’re not there!”
  2330. >”Dagnabbit… must’ve left them in Winona. She ain’t doing so hot right now either, thank Celestia I shut the windows up out there.”
  2331. >AJ’s truck is sure to be nearly completely covered in sand by now
  2332. >Despite the fact that it’s mostly hidden from aerial view due to AJ’s expert parking job beneath an arc of sandstone, the horizontal winds will blow the sands directly into its front
  2333. >”Look, forget the fact that we might be buried alive in here come morning. I just don’t want it blowing in here while we try to sleep, getting all in our saddlebags and sleepsacks and clothes and whatnot.”
  2334. “I agree, but we have nothing, AJ. Nothing wide enough to cover that opening.”
  2335. >Applejack sighs and ponders for a moment, her features bronzed by the harsh lantern light
  2336. >”Then we sleep with our backs to the far wall. Damn, we were lucky to find this place… though I would’ve LIKED to move at night, when we’d be less likely to be spotted out.”
  2337. “From what I understand, AJ, they’re night hunters. I had a pegasus friend at the convent in Mons Canteria, she always said she could see everypony sleeping in the perfect darkness of the communal chambers, when I could never see anything at all.”
  2338. >”Ain’t to say we’d be better off during the day.”
  2339. “We have to move SOMETIME. At least we could see them too in the light!”
  2340. >”Well, it don’t make a lick of difference now, if we were moving in this we’d be tipped over in a ditch, dead blind and buried. Gonna have to wait ‘til morning, reassess. We CAN’T be far from the floating city now, can we?”
  2341. >From AJ’s dusty saddlebags, you retrieve the map on which she’s drawn the careful vectors of your journey
  2342. >You can scarcely believe how far you’ve come already, something in the range of two thousand miles
  2343. >AJ had surmised that it’d be but a day’s or day and a half’s crossing from See Rock all the way to Pegasopolis, but that’s proven to be untrue
  2344. >Not only does the old road wind more than expected, but the going is slow and periodic due to frequent stops
  2345. >AJ’s been sure on a number of occasions that you were being followed, and her wily paranoia, while ultimately a good trait in this sort of situation, has turned this day’s journey into two going on three
  2346. >But Pegasopolis is nearly in sight, that much is certain
  2347. >All that’s left now is to determine how best to approach it once you’re there…
  2348. “It’s going to have to be capture, isn’t it?”
  2349. >”Hm?”
  2350. “The entrance plan. We talked about this before. I like it as little as you, but if Mater’s plan for me is sound, then no harm shall come to us. We’ll need to submit to the authorities once we reach the base of the floating city. Then we simply ask to see their leader, this General Hurricane.”
  2351. >”Pfft. Twilight, your naivete is showing again. We already went over this, the last thing those traitor wing-jockeys are gonna do if we ask them to bring us to Hurricane is bring us to Hurricane. They’ll hang us from chains from the underside of the city before they do that.”
  2352. “What other options do we have, then? If there’s no direct transport from the ground to the sky, then all we can do is hope that they’ll listen to us when we tell them we have information on—”
  2353. >”On a premonition? You go in there and tell them, you Canterian unicorn, that their city in the sky is gonna burn soon. Tell them that, and see what happens.”
  2354. “They may lock us up, but we’ll have a chance. If they see reason, if we can save as many ponies as we can…”
  2355. >”They won’t see reason. They’ll see two foreigners in way over their heads which is what we dang well are. What we DO have is two things. One…”
  2356. >Applejack reaches around you and clutches the belt of her saddlebag, lifting it off the ground on one fetlock and reaching inside with the other
  2357. >As soon as it’s out, your horn starts pulsing again as before, but not in the unpleasant way that it’s done chronically for the past few weeks
  2358. >This time it’s calming, natural, synchronized with the tempo of that bright beacon of spiritual energy that Applejack holds in her scarred hoof
  2359. >The Element glows without heat, burns through space in a capacity you can sense not with your eyes or ears but in your MIND, in such proximity to its power
  2360. >And Applejack now wields that power fully; it’s bound to her, gives her the power to see across great expanses in an instant, through solid objects, as though giving her the Sight of the Matrons Celest in very literal form
  2361. >You can only dream of harnessing one-sixth of Celestia’s final magic, but AJ seems to be managing quite well all things considered
  2362. >”We have this. This gemstone—ah—Element. If it lets me see through walls, who knows what else it could do? Maybe it could lift us off the ground, maybe… maybe we could make our way up there without confronting anypony. Force an evacuation. Plus find the next Element bearer. That’s why we’re REALLY going there, isn’t it?”
  2363. “We can’t make assumptions like that at this time, AJ. The six seeds of prophecy are harmonics in their purest state. Each holds a portion of the Truth, but unless you know how to fully control it then it won’t make miracles. Do you feel as though you fully control it?”
  2364. >Applejack shuffles backwards, still gazing into the amber light at the Element’s core
  2365. >”No. Not at all. The power happens without any input on my end, if anything. Like it thinks it knows better than me, and most of the time it DOES. It needs me for my life force or something, or maybe…”
  2366. “For your tangibility?”
  2367. >”Sure. You said it best yourself, it was a scattered idea before I was there in the cave. It materialized because of my presence. So it’s symbiotic, it’s payment for privilege. I allow it to exist in the form it inhabits, it helps me out when times get tough.”
  2368. “It’s more complicated than that, but… I suppose that’s the case.”
  2369. >”We can’t let this get into their hooves, Twilight. That should be our primary motivator for NOT getting caught, they’ll try to confiscate this lickety-split.”
  2370. “It’s bound to you, though. It won’t be separated.”
  2371. >”They might kill me trying, then. So no. N-O. That’s one thing. The other thing is, you have proof of your uniqueness there, on your flank. No cutie mark. That might pique some interest if you showed that off, but who knows? It might just make them angrier.”
  2372. “I don’t think I can ju—”
  2373. >”Wait. Shhh.”
  2374. >Applejack pauses, setting a hoof on your wither and slowly pushing you down into a sitting position
  2375. >The Element, now apparently magnetically fixed to her other hoof, glimmers and fades in sinusoidal streaks across its geometric surfaces
  2376. >Your friend closes her eyes, then takes a deep breath
  2377. >”Somepony’s near. Whisper, but don’t speak too loud.”
  2378. “Who?”
  2379. >”I see… wings. Lots of wings. Not too far from here. They’re looking for us, Twilight. I see their shapes behind the rock, through the sand.”
  2380. “But you’re not even looking at the rock!”
  2381. >”It don’t matter. My eyes don’t matter when I’m holding this. It sees for me, it sees… they’re all splitting up now. They’re out there in the storm. I think they’ve lost each other.”
  2382. >If what AJ says is true, then this storm was providence sent by Mater Solis, it MUST have been
  2383. >A pegasus patrol so close to your campsite means they’ve tracked you down by the treads you left in the sandier parts of the road, just as she predicted they might yesterday
  2384. >This could cover you up entirely, along with any other extant trails you might’ve left behind, and at the very least discourage them from searching tonight
  2385. >”But there’s something else, too… I don’t really know how to describe it.”
  2386. “Another group of pegasi?”
  2387. >”No, it’s not… I don’t know what it could even be. It’s vaguely pony-shaped, but it’s cold, and it doesn’t have the same sort of life that I’m used to seeing with this. Even the helicopters over See Rock had more… well, SOMETHING to them. This is like a moving waveform. It doesn’t seem to be staying in the same place, like it’s scattered, but it still feels like it’s moving closer.”
  2388. >Closer?
  2389. >You search Applejack’s features for some kind of clue or intention, yet find nothing but intense concentration
  2390. >She’s lost in the well of the Sight, the eyes beyond space, and whatever she sees…
  2391. >It’s coming right for you
  2392. “We need to hide, Applejack. We need to hide NOW.”
  2393. >”Where can we hide, Twilight? Where, it’s, it’s scattered, it’s… a distribution. Just like… oh, no.”
  2394. CRACKKKKKKKOOOOOOOOOM
  2395.  
  2396. ******
  2397.  
  2398. “That sounded like Lightning! LIGHTNING!!!”
  2399. >”HERE! I’M HERE, DOWN HERE!”
  2400. “Alpha Squad, you still read me?”
  2401. >A wave of copies greets you; aside from Fleetfoot and White Lightning, you’ve still got the rest of your squad intact
  2402. >You can barely see a few crackled forms in the thermal vision in front of you, but otherwise you’re totally in the dark
  2403. >But Lightning’s voice, her REAL voice, just echoed out loud enough to hear from whatever altitude you’re currently maintaining
  2404. “Okay, slow descent all! Slow! Fight the wind and drop inclination, we do this the way we did it in the wind tunnels back in the Academy!”
  2405. >Praying your comrades do the same, you force your body to turn into the onslaught of sand, feeling the motes pelt your cheeks and brow, hundreds every second
  2406. >Now that you’re parallel, you don’t have to worry about your roll getting offset, only your pitch; and it takes great effort to face ever so slightly towards the ground when you can’t even see the horizon
  2407. >But you notice gravity taking its effect, and you start flapping your wings relentlessly to match the force of matter against you
  2408. >Pretty soon, you’re somewhat stable; even though it feels like you’re flying straight on at eighty clicks, you’re not actually moving horizontally at all, rather dropping very slowly towards the earth
  2409. >What feels like an eternity passes, but when your hooves do finally touch a solid mound of sand you turn away from the wind and breathe a sigh of relief
  2410. >It comes out as a terrible retching cough, but you take what you can get
  2411. >As soon as you can speak again, you call out
  2412. “LIGHTNING!”
  2413. >”DASH! HERE!”
  2414. >You turn into the wind again and ascent the gentle slope, noting that at least two Alphas have just touched down nearby
  2415. >Your friend’s cries sound like a squeaking mouse compared to this horrible wind, but as long as you can get there…
  2416. >You just have to get there…
  2417. >You stumble in the sand, almost losing all your progress, but you manage to get back up again and get a proper grip, not daring to unfold your wings
  2418. >Then, out of nowhere, a dim red shape appears in your cowl
  2419. >It turns orange, then yellow, and pretty soon you’re only a few meters from the hunched form of Lightning Dust
  2420. >One of her hind hooves is stuck in an ever-mounting sand trap, and she’s hacking up her lungs
  2421. “Lightning!”
  2422. >”Dash? Throat’s too damn… help me out of this, will ya?”
  2423. >Without saying anything, you squeeze tight around Lightning’s midsection and yank her free
  2424. >She goes tumbling into the shifting dust, but quickly collects herself and faces you
  2425. >From her silhouette, you can tell she’s lost her thermal cowl; her eyes must be shut tight
  2426. >”Where’s the rest of your team?”
  2427. “Touching down now, back where I came from! But I could ask you the same question!”
  2428. >”Lost! We got separated when the storm hit, some kind of bright flash knocked us all off the top of the dune!”
  2429. “Bright flash?”
  2430. >”Yes! Like a red damn bolt! I thought it was lightning, but it was right next to me and I ain’t dead!”
  2431. “Red through the thermal? It couldn’t have been lightning, that’s not near hot enough!”
  2432. >”No! My thermal fizzled out when the storm hit, I took it off and then it happened! It was red-red! Like fire! And it left a trail!”
  2433. >You couldn’t see anything like that from where you were, so either it gave off no heat at all or the storm was affecting your thermal vision even more than you thought
  2434. “You said you had a potential sight on something before comms went haywire! What did you see?”
  2435. >”It doesn’t matter now! We gotta find Beta before they’re buried in this!”
  2436. “It matters to me! Two of mine crashed down back there, but we’re out here for a reason! What did you see before the flash?!”
  2437. >”I saw a signature! Trace of something, due east! It could’ve been nothing, but it looked like a rock surface, slightly warmer than the rest! I wanted to go further, but… did you get the radio check from Blaze?”
  2438. >Blaze?
  2439. >She’s supposed to be guarding Time Turner
  2440. “I couldn’t hear anything after the storm! What happened?”
  2441. >”It was right before the flash happened! The Ambassador collapsed and his vitals dropped fast back at camp! She thinks he might be dead!”
  2442.  
  2443. ******
  2444.  
  2445. >When the dust clears, and the lantern light slows its flickering, the first thing you notice is that the storm outside has gone silent
  2446. >Sand is still seeping in from the cave entrance beyond, but you can’t hear the wind lapping at the rocks, or that despairing howl of the greater chaos
  2447. >The second thing you notice is that Applejack is slumped over, the Element still gripped tight against her hoof
  2448. >You would think her unconscious if her eyes weren’t wide open, staring into yours with a terrifying intensity
  2449. >But there’s something wrong with her; her face has gone deathly white, and she isn’t quite looking at you
  2450. >She’s looking past you, THROUGH you
  2451. >The only other time you’ve seen her this way was when she emerged from See Rock, near-dead, bearing the Element
  2452. >You’re afraid to turn around for what you might see, or rather what you may not see
  2453. >What only she can see, and what’s lurking there at the edge of Sight
  2454. >Blessed is the truth of Celestia as it is spoken through her by the Mother of wisdom and compassion
  2455. >Blessed is the word of the prophetess of the Goddess, it is Truth, it is to be praised…
  2456. >It is Truth…
  2457. >It is…
  2458. >You see the crimson on the edge of knowing when you turn around, and you know that it is not real
  2459. >But reality has never hindered the Truth, and what you see behind the
  2460. (Flames at the edge of the World)
  2461. >Is a stallion, though he isn’t quite a stallion
  2462. >Parts of him are mechanical: his eyes, his teeth, his ribs and spine
  2463. >He’s wearing a robe, but it’s transparent in this projection state, and you can see past it into his bones, his organs, his blood mixed with all sorts of ungodly implanted fluids
  2464. >His tail has been replaced with a long thin whipcord, gleaming bright from its own luminescence, and it moves as though underwater, unhindered by gravity
  2465. >His eyes are locked with Applejack’s, as though you aren’t even standing there between them
  2466. >You should feel fear… why aren’t you feeling fear?
  2467. >What is this calm?
  2468. >This… sense of right?
  2469. >When he speaks, electricity the color of blood arcs across the space of the alcove and dissolves against the ancient stone
  2470. >”She is the Bearer?”
  2471. >The voice is synthetic, like that of a machine, and his eyes now flit into your own
  2472. “Y-yes. Of the Element.”
  2473. >You should be running and screaming, collecting AJ and casting off from this demon, this impersonation of equine life!
  2474. >Why aren’t you running?!
  2475. >”Your paralysis, I’m sorry to say, is a measure I’m forced to inflict given the circumstances. I can’t have you two departing before I’ve had my say.”
  2476. “Wh-wh-what are you?”
  2477. >”I? There is no I. I am nothing. A messenger, or perhaps you could call me a temporary vessel. The last in a long, long, LONG line of temporary vessels. But inconsequential compared to you.”
  2478. “Y-you’re transparent. I can see your skeleton.”
  2479. >”This is only a shadow of my true self. My body is miles from here, I needed to abandon it temporarily. But I needed to get close enough to project this far, I can only wield a fraction of a fraction of the power this thing affords.”
  2480. “What thing?”
  2481. >At this, the tail moves with blinding speed towards you, stopping only at the tip of your muzzle
  2482. >Then, it bows like a snake and begins coiling around your steady form
  2483. >Beads of sweat trickle down your face, as though your body realizes what danger you’re in even if your mind refuses to react
  2484. >”The Element. How did you acquire it?”
  2485. “I don’t…”
  2486. >The red apparition moves to the side, still wrapping its tail around you, but regarding the still-prone Applejack
  2487. >”Well?”
  2488. >”I-in the cave. The cave in See Rock. It was so dark, and the h-heat… it called out to me. It formed out of nothing. My parents, m-my—”
  2489. >”The specifics aren’t important, and I won’t pester you for them. See Rock… even if I’d known, I suppose I wouldn’t have been able to approach it. It needed you there, didn’t it?”
  2490. >”I-I think so. The light that came out of it… what lit up the sky…”
  2491. >”Is what alerted me to your significance in the first place. These sorts of accidents don’t just happen. It took almost everything I had to will this sandstorm into existence. Only my augmentations prevent me from succumbing to it. They’re looking for you right now. They’re using thermal scanners. When I’m gone, and the storm dissolves, you must turn out your lights at once. They’ll probably retreat, but in case they don’t…”
  2492. “How do you know this? W-wait…”
  2493. >The mechanical implants, the eyes, the tail…
  2494. >This bitter taste in your mouth, even at this range…
  2495. “Y-you’re an Exsilist. Half-machine. Y-you’re from the far W-west, you KNOW the secrets of the Makers…”
  2496. >”I am hardly one of them. I came into this life for one reason, to conceal this power and pass it on to its rightful owner. Two generations have passed since the last attempt at unification, I will NOT allow another to pass.”
  2497. >”Granny… she saw the stars… she saw them in the tower…”
  2498. >”What’s your name, Celestial Sister?”
  2499. >He’s looking at you again, dilating those monstrous eyes to focus on your being
  2500. “Tw-twilight Sparkle. I’m only an acolyte, not privy to the S-sight of the M-matrons…”
  2501. >”Our orders are not so different, you know. We both despise magic. See it as an insult to the natural order of things. The only remarkable factor which distinguishes us is that we are enlightened to the alternative, the technology afforded us by the Makers before their final suicide. Whereas your order is dying because you have not changed with the tide of the world. You see them as equally repulsive, technology and magic.”
  2502. >Your breath is weak, and the tail, though apparently immaterial, nevertheless IS
  2503. >It’s cold and chrome and you can touch it, as though it were really there, and it touches you, squeezes you
  2504. >Still, you aren’t afraid
  2505. >It reminds you of Numena, somehow; terrifying in its ability to placate you
  2506. >There is comfort in understanding, you realize; even in moments of the greatest terror, of divine impossibilities, to know the danger is to place it in the world
  2507. >To know its boundaries…
  2508. “Th-that’s not true. I’m different, I… I think different. Technology is the greatest hope for the future of ponykind. The New Maker’s Handbook is what’s driven us this far…”
  2509. >”Then we really are one and the same. The Living Machine was evil to me as a child, pure evil. A slave was I to the Cult’s machinations, and yet I rose up and became what was necessary because that is what fate is. It challenges the interest of the rational, invites truth beyond truth.”
  2510. >”W-we know all about that.”
  2511. >”Indeed. Now I know that what the Makers gave us is our only ward against what will soon be discovered. But you aren’t the only ones with prophecies.”
  2512. >The Exsilist’s eyes tremor and behind you, Applejack screams
  2513. >She sounds as though she’s in tremendous pain, but you understand that what she feels and what she sees are in her mind
  2514. >You are calm, but your body is not; your body trembles, jerks, tries to force you to cower or bite or hide
  2515. >It doesn’t want to see, but you do
  2516. >You want to see everything
  2517. >”I’ve just shared a portion of my visions with your friend. Now I need you to return the favor. You have the potential, don’t you? To bear an Element.”
  2518. “I… I don’t know. It hadn’t really occurred to me, I just wanted t-to bring peace. I wanted to follow Mater Solis’ divine will. Wherever it took me.”
  2519. >”And when you found the Element?”
  2520. “My Mission wasn’t changed. Not the current arc of it. Celestia protect me. Celestia save me from the undoings of—”
  2521. >”There isn’t much time, Twilight Sparkle. My shadow is waning. In your dreams, what did you see? Why have you come to this place?”
  2522. “I saw the city in the sky. Pegasopolis. I saw it burning. I saw a corona of light over it, a-and the sky falling.”
  2523. >”Then it’s true. And who was the messenger?”
  2524. >The messenger…
  2525. >Does he mean Numena?
  2526. >The tail constricts further, pressing the words from your body
  2527. “An angel. A Solenoid of Mother Sun, praise be unto Her name. A reflection of the stars was all I could ever see, stars in the shape of a pony. All I could witness without… without driving me from my body.”
  2528. >”You don’t know the half of it, Twilight Sparkle. Even the Highmind Empress saw… never mind. I’m fading now! You are but pawns in this game, albeit the most significant of them. Guard THAT, the Element, with your lives, if it scatters again before the beast arrives then all these centuries will have been for nothing! You’re looking for a pegasus, a mare with a blue coat! She—”
  2529. >Now it’s loosening again, and the fear is returning
  2530. >His hold on you, physical and metaphysical, will soon return to nothing
  2531. >Applejack, beneath you, trembles quietly
  2532. >The red electric form spreads like atoms no longer attracted, untangles into long wisps of light
  2533. >Still, his voice echoes, and the desperation in it is palpable
  2534. >”A rainbow mane! I can’t give it to her, she must take it for her own! Only then can it become hers utterly! But she… is… the one… the only one… all the rest may burn… they don’t matter… the beast will have them… the wheel… will…”
  2535. “What’s your name?! How do we find you?!”
  2536. >”Ask her… when you… see…”
  2537. >A shockwave of crimson energy sends you flying backwards, tumbling over Applejack’s limp body
  2538. >When you regain your senses, naught but a smoking black spot remains of the apparition
  2539. >All the wisps have gone, collapsing back into the void of the night
  2540. >The noise of the sandstorm outside returns for a few brief moments, like a bubble around the cave has popped, only to die back down naturally
  2541. >This time, the effect is real; the winds really have stopped altogether
  2542. >Without thinking, you obey the Exsilist’s request, stumbling towards the lantern and snuffing it out with what remains of your breath
  2543. >Perfect dark, perfect silence but for Applejack’s ragged breath
  2544. >She’s conscious, you can tell that much
  2545. >The air in here is still and warm
  2546. “Applejack? Can you hear me, Applejack?”
  2547. >”Can… hear… the voices…”
  2548. “What did he show you?”
  2549. >”…showed me… death… showed me… what I saw again… in the cave…”
  2550. >Visions repeating, Truth cycling over again and again and again
  2551. >But how?
  2552. >How could an Exsilist be a Bearer of Truth?
  2553. >Or could he be bearing more than just Truth?
  2554. >”The eyes, Twilight. The eyes were the worst. Those inequine eyes… something’s almost here. And a fire… not the fire in the barn when my parents died, not the fire over Pegasopolis, not the fire that killed the Makers, but ALL of them, every fire all at once. And none of them. All sucked away, returned to a void that was never there…”
  2555. “I don’t understand.”
  2556. >”Neither do I. But it’s what I saw. I saw the wheel again, too. In the cave, I saw the eyes, and I saw the wheel. Driving the world. Something… I can’t speak. I have to rest. I have to sleep. I’m sorry.”
  2557. “It’s okay. Sleep now. They’re out there looking, AJ, but they won’t find us. Not here. I can feel it.”
  2558. >”No… I know… I know…”
  2559.  
  2560. ******
  2561.  
  2562. >”I know what I saw, Dash. I’m not crazy.”
  2563. “I never said you were crazy. But we’re past that now. Whatever happened in the storm, whether it was just some kind of crazy lightning shock in the middle of it all. But right now, we need to get back. It could be our only chance before the storm picks back up again.”
  2564. >”Yeah… right.”
  2565. >You tap the black box, the tiny storage unit containing all the sensitive electronics for your equipment array, with the frog of your hoof
  2566. >It seems to be undamaged by the sand, so you key in
  2567. ”Alpha One to Alpha Squad, over. Who’s still got a head on their shoulders?”
  2568. >”Alpha Four.”
  2569. >”Alpha Two.”
  2570. >”Alpha Six.”
  2571. “Storm’s cleared up good. Any sign of Three and Five?”
  2572. >”Roger, Alpha One. I have visual on their signatures. Their comms are probably busted, along with a couple of bones, but they seem to be alright.”
  2573. “Go see how they’re doing, and light a flare when you get there. The thermals are coming off, they’ll be no good if the storm comes back. I need to make a call.”
  2574. >Looking down the slope, you can make out Misty Sky and Starcatcher trudging up towards you in the dark
  2575. >It was a hard storm, and the outcome could’ve been a hell of a lot worse
  2576. >Hastily, you set down your codifier in the sand and begin punching in the long-range parameters
  2577. “How much did you get out of Blaze before comms went dark?”
  2578. >”Only what I told you. Your buddy, the Ambassador, just went totally limp. Heartrate dropped to zero. She tried resuscitating, but then the storm hit her about the same time as it hit us.”
  2579. ”The storm was moving west. How could the front have—”
  2580. >”…ash, come in… ptain Dash! Storm’s cleared up, he’s back!”
  2581. “I have contact! Alpha One to Sigma! Blaze, what’s going on?”
  2582. >”The storm’s gone down here! Gorgons, is it good to hear your voice, Captain Dash.”
  2583. “The Ambassador. Tell me about Time Turner!”
  2584. >”He’s back! His breathing just started back up again, and he shot out of bed like a wild stallion. I’d dragged him into a tent when the wind picked up, couldn’t just leave him out there.”
  2585. “Let me speak with him, if he’s capable.”
  2586. >”I’d say so. Gimme a sec, Captain.”
  2587. “Roger.”
  2588. >You wait patiently, the radio fizzing in front of you, Lightning Dust hovering over you with a look of abject awe
  2589. >”The way she sounded before, I was sure he was a goner. What the hell do you think happened?”
  2590. “No idea. But the search is off for tonight. I need to go back and monitor him, and Fleetfoot and White Lightning are out of commission too.”
  2591. >Lightning scoffs
  2592. >”What’s so special about him, anyway? You go running to his bedside as soon as he goes down?”
  2593. “Shut up. He’s important, Lightning. Important to the General.”
  2594. >”If he was so important, then he shouldn’t be out here. Sand probably didn’t agree with all his metal bits.”
  2595. >You roll your eyes and listen to the static, trying to think of a proper explanation for this mess when you report back to Hurricane
  2596. >What can you say? That you flew the Wunderbolts into a sandstorm? Compromised the safety of your troops? Left an Exsilist Ambassador behind to nearly die?
  2597. >HE was the one who insisted that he come, not you!
  2598. >Hurricane told you to keep a close eye on him, and you didn’t listen
  2599. >You didn’t…
  2600. >”Rainbow Dash? Can you hear me?”
  2601. “Ambassador Time Turner! Affirmative. We heard about your mishap on our end, what happened?”
  2602. >”Oh, it’s nothing to be concerned over. A condition of my being half-machine, nothing more. We have malfunctions sometimes, but the components which allow us to live in the heightened way we do tend to compensate.”
  2603. “Hell of a condition. We’re headed back to camp now, Ambassador. No prize tonight, sorry to say.”
  2604. >”It’s your mission, after all, Captain. I’m just along for the ride. I… what the… where’s my watch? Where’s my bloody watch?!”
  2605. >Over the radio, the sounds of intense shuffling and a flurry of mechanical grinding resonate
  2606. >There was panic in Time Turner’s voice there, genuine panic you haven’t heard before
  2607. >”Where is it, damn you! Did you take it off me?”
  2608. >”N-no, sir. I haven’t touched it. You need to calm down, you’re—”
  2609. >“Don’t tell me to calm down! I need to know where the—ah, here. It’s just… I’ve found it. Under my own silly bottom, it was. Apologies, Captain Dash, and apologies to you, my dear. It wasn’t my intention to accuse.”
  2610. “Everything solid down there, Ambassador?”
  2611. >Time Turner chuckles, a gritty, metallic noise distorted even further by the radio over which he speaks
  2612. >”Yes, Captain Dash, no worries. I had thought I’d lost something quite valuable to me.”
  2613. “You’re very protective of that watch, Time Turner. I’ve noticed.”
  2614. >”It’s an heirloom, Captain. I know you’ve seen it. True beauty can’t be left out here in the desert, eh?”
  2615. >That crimson-faced watch of his… you have to admit it’s beautiful
  2616. >Something about it just… calls to you
  2617. >Just as you understand devotion to family, an instinctual desire to protect what’s come before
  2618. >That’s loyalty; that is strength
  2619. >Before you can collect your comms array and take off camp-bound with Lightning Dust, one last thought from Time Turner echoes out of that receiver
  2620. >Something that stays with you even as you cross the San Palomino, borne on skyward waves, the night air cool and still, the Mare in the Moon hanging high over your head, near-full
  2621. >”What’s more important in this world than knowing the time?”
  2622.  
  2623. ******
  2624.  
  2625. ECHO LOG: ACCOUNTABILITY REPORT, TRANSCRIPT PENDING CLASSIFICATION
  2626. CAPTAIN-MAJOR SPITFIRE, SEVENTH AERIAL, TEMP. “THUNDER 9”
  2627. 06 JUNO
  2628. 10:36:00
  2629. 14 DAYS BEFORE THE SUMMER SOLSTICE
  2630.  
  2631. >”Why’s it matter that it’s two weeks out, anyhow? I’ve never kept track of that sort of thing.”
  2632. >”It’s gonna be the longest, hottest day of the year. Ergo, hell to be on the field if we don’t wrap this up quickly.”
  2633. >”Way I hear it, we’ll be out of here LONG before then. Might be out before the day is up.”
  2634. >”Yeah, let’s hope so. I mean, what’s the timetable here, Cap? What’s the sitrep?”
  2635. “I can’t make that call. Even if I knew everything, I couldn’t tell you, and I don’t know everything. Way I understand it is, everypony’s got a different job. We all do those jobs correctly, and in the right order, the city surrenders within the next twenty-four hours. IF we do it correctly.”
  2636. >”And if not?”
  2637. “Then we may well be here until the solstice. Our greatest advantage on this is the element of surprise. We hit them hard and fast, we strike at their leadership, we create zones of influence that are easier for us to control than for them to retake, and we can afford to do that given what’s at our disposal. But like I said, that’s not in our job description. The way I see it, it’s better that we DON’T know. The more we know, the more can be used against us in case something goes south.”
  2638. >”Not very intuitive, but I’ll buy it. All I’m really asking, Captain, is that when we make our play, what assurance do we have that the others will make theirs?”
  2639. “We’re synced up. We don’t interact except for when we need to, we don’t ask questions we don’t need the answers to.”
  2640. >”This sounds like a hatchet job to me.”
  2641. >”But we’ll be the ones that finally end this thing, right? We’re gonna win, right, Spitfire?”
  2642. “That’s up to all of you. You’re the elite team, you have your instructions. The ponies we’re going up against are equally elite. We stall them for as long as possible, take them out if necessary. There’s one pegasus we don’t touch, that’s our informant. There’s another, too, but it’s unlikely we run into him while we do this.”
  2643. >”Just seems like we’re running into a firestorm here, Cap. Why the rebranding? Why the hush-hush? If the point was to make sure the PAS knew we were coming anyway, why are we doing this shadow dance?”
  2644. >”Yeah, I wanna know that, too. What did the Chancellor REALLY tell you, Captain?”
  2645. “I already told you everything I know. You want to take it up with high command, be my guest. Go get court-martialed for disobeying a direct order. If you want to live in contempt of the military, go do that. Just because they know we’re coming doesn’t mean they know HOW we’re coming, or in what number. They saw me, that’s it. That was intentional, you all know that.”
  2646. >”And the concussion you got from the butt-end of that hick’s rifle? That was part of the plan, too?”
  2647. “Hasn’t stopped me from thinking straighter than the rest of you, if that’s what you’re asking. I mean, what is this all of a sudden? You’ve not all read the brief? You all didn’t know what this was when we were assigned to it?”
  2648. >”Not like that, Captain. We just don’t wanna be left with our tails up our asses if Thunders One through Eight, and Celestia knows how many other teams there are, fail to account for us. If we don’t know them, and they don’t know us, can it really even be said that we’re on the same side here?”
  2649. “Piss off, Soarin. Yes, the Chancellor knows what he’s doing. No, I don’t think he’d send us off on a suicide mission if he didn’t have a plan for extraction.”
  2650. >”I heard he didn’t have Senatori approval for this.”
  2651. >”What do you care if he did or he didn’t?”
  2652. >”I care if I’m about to go commit some war crimes, yeah, I care a little bit, Fire Streak. What kind of question—”
  2653. “Enough, you two. Instead of focusing on whether this’ll be legal or not when we come back home, focus on this: the Wunderbolts are said to be vicious in aerial combat. We know from our informant that there are twenty-two of them, we know their formations are impeccable, we know they work as a unit, but we also know that outside of simulations and field drills, they’re total greenhorns. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take them seriously, but we use that to our advantage come the engagement. We fight dirty. Maybe they don’t know how to handle that. Maybe they break. That’s where we excel, isn’t it?”
  2654. >”And their commanding officer? Why does the brief say she’s also not to be harmed?”
  2655. “She’s General Hurricane’s daughter. We can incapacitate her if need be, but she’s to be taken alive in case we need her as a hostage.”
  2656. >”Daddy’s little filly.”
  2657. “She’s the best of them, make no mistake. What we really need to do is separate her from the pack. The informant said that she’s to be dealt with specially, i.e. out of our hooves. She’s not our job, she’s somepony else’s.”
  2658. >”And they didn’t tell you whose.”
  2659. “I have no problem with that. You shouldn’t either.”
  2660. >”Well, what about the rest, then? Aside from the daughter, and the informant, what’s our level of engagement?”
  2661. “Like I said, we stall. That’s the official version, at least. You want to know what I think? Elimination, plain and simple. They’re too dangerous to make it out of there alive. The Wunderbolts die in a blaze of glory.”
  2662. END REPORT
  2663.  
  2664. ******
  2665.  
  2666. >”I’ve been pondering something, Captain Dash.”
  2667. “Ponder away. We’ve got time.”
  2668. >You are Captain Rainbow Dash, also known as the Worst Commanding Officer Ever
  2669. >This morning, you received a message from High Command ordering a total recall back to Pegasopolis, and to abort your seek-and-apprehend operation for the two border-hoppers
  2670. >And why shouldn’t you abort, after all?
  2671. >To your left, Fleetfoot and White Lightning lay parallel on stretchers, their broken wings and hooves splinted together for immediate transport to the Militarbezirk Medical Center
  2672. >They’re tended by your comrades, who can do little more for them but wait for the extraction transport to arrive at its destination
  2673. >To your right, Ambassador Time Turner stands weakly, drained of energy from his recent medical incident
  2674. >What should’ve been a straightforward operation was marred by bad planning and a sudden storm which wrecked the entire illusion that you had things under control, and now you’re being recalled as a failure
  2675. >You know that’s not REALLY why you’re being recalled; of course they need the Wunderbolts on the defense if and when the Canterians mount their offensive on the city
  2676. >But it definitely feels like this was your chance to prove yourself, and you wasted it
  2677. >You couldn’t even find two lousy surface dwellers, and three among your expedition team nearly died trying
  2678. >How does that reflect on you? What must High Command think of you now?
  2679. >What must Hurricane think of you?
  2680. >Push it out of your mind, Dash
  2681. >Ready yourself for the storm…
  2682. >”Ahem.”
  2683. “Huh? Oh. Sorry.”
  2684. >”You looked off in another world.”
  2685. >You regard Time Turner, who despite his recent near-death experience seems to be just fine in the snark department
  2686. “It comes and goes. I’m afraid I’ve failed you. Failed my comrades.”
  2687. >”You did nothing you could have prevented. From what I hear, you saved quite a few of your Wunderbolts in that storm.”
  2688. “I could’ve saved more.”
  2689. >You glance over at Fleetfoot and White Lightning, tranquilized and unmoving, and you know Time Turner is looking at them too
  2690. >”Console yourself, Captain Dash. We have bigger problems on our hooves.”
  2691. “Kinda worrying to hear you of all ponies say so. You seem like you always have a plan.”
  2692. >Above you, the harsh electric blue light of the transport interior casts a gloomy shadow over you
  2693. >The rest of the Wunderbolts line the walls in simple benches bolted to the grated floor, beneath which the exposed motor hums
  2694. >It’s a helicarrier, a fast-moving one at that; you requested it for evac when it became obvious that the injured weren’t going to be flying anytime soon
  2695. >”As I was saying, what I’ve been pondering is this: say, for the sake of argument, that our two missing Canterians were indeed attempting to enter Pegasopolis. And say also that the Canterian military moves on us at this very moment.”
  2696. “We’ve been saying that, haven’t we?”
  2697. >”Indeed. But their vectors crossed at the border, and supposing they aren’t working together their routes are much the same. We have evidence of the movement of the strays, but none of an armored division.”
  2698. “Not even with drones, according to Hurricane. We spoke over the phone earlier.”
  2699. >”I heard.”
  2700. >The conversation had been brief, and you heard no ill will in your father’s voice, but you KNOW he must be disappointed in you
  2701. >Even if he pretends not to be, it’s something he would’ve done better, and for you to have failed so spectacularly…
  2702. >”I see in your eyes where you place the blame for this mishap. It wasn’t you, Captain Dash. Your actions were those of loyalty.”
  2703. “Loyalty… what do you know about that?”
  2704. >”A great deal more than you can imagine, Captain. Mine is reluctant, which makes it ever harder.”
  2705. >Time Turner’s eyes glisten, almost as if they’re real flesh and blood, real emotion
  2706. >Almost
  2707. >At the end of the day, he’s a golem puppeteered by the elements of himself which were never meant to be
  2708. >The machine at the heart of him, at the heart of all Exsilists
  2709. >The Living Machine… they’re ALL living machines
  2710. >All with their own plans, wheels within wheels
  2711. >If there’s anything behind those eyes, it’s this: that every move Time Turner makes serves one purpose
  2712. >And it isn’t the one he’s provided you
  2713. “You think they’re masking themselves somehow? The Canterian forces.”
  2714. >”Cloaking technology is beyond our reach, if that’s what you’re proposing. But if they are closing in, they’re not taking any anticipated path. They’re moving erratically and covering their tracks.”
  2715. “They can’t think they’ll take the city with just one contingent.”
  2716. >”Then they have several. And the tactics they use won’t be conventional.”
  2717. “Nothing’s been conventional in this war. And nopony’s been truthful either.”
  2718. >Time Turner’s prehensile tail grins along with him
  2719. >”Is that a veiled jab, Captain?”
  2720. “Hardly veiled. When we first met, I asked you to drop all pretenses. That was my condition for trusting that you’re here with me in good faith to weed out a rat.”
  2721. >”I did as requested, didn’t I? I’ve told only you of my true intention in coming here.”
  2722. “But you didn’t tell me everything. Why were you so interested in getting to know those two border-hoppers? Really. Why was it so important to be the first to get a stab at them that you could drop everything, the investigation into the traitor included, and tag along with us out into the middle of the desert? You left your bodyguards behind, for Gorgons’ sake. You’re single-minded here, Ambassador, like everypony.”
  2723. >”And you’re sharper than even I expected.”
  2724. >Your wings stiffen by your sides
  2725. >Pegasopolis is near, you can feel it
  2726. >You’re careful to speak in hushed tones to not alarm your fellow Wunderbolts, but it’s taking a lot of effort not to scream in Time Turner’s face
  2727. “Then spill it! They were important to you in some way you didn’t let on at the council meeting. You tacked on that request to shadow us on our mission as an afterthought, and my fa—Hurricane, allowed it. Was it the radiation incident? Is that what tipped you off? Did you somehow know for certain they’d come from it?”
  2728. >”Sharp indeed. But how could I have known something like that?”
  2729. “You tell me!”
  2730. >You hiss at him, whisper-shouting up a storm in this little corner of the helicarrier
  2731. “It’s your kind that has the ‘prophetic encounters’ and all that techno Maker mumbo-jumbo! And now that we HAVEN’T found the border-hoppers, what? You’re totally content to just drop it? You did something out there. Changed something, I don’t know what. Ponies don’t just drop dead and come back to life without a care in the world.”
  2732. >”I fainted. You know this.”
  2733. “You had no pulse! Blaze is our combat medic, she knows what a beating heart sounds like, and you didn’t have one!”
  2734. >”A condition of our being. These augmentations are fickle sometimes…”
  2735. “Bullshit. I want to know everything. Starting with that watch—”
  2736. >You point accusingly at the crimson face on Time Turner’s fetlock, only for your hoof to want to draw even closer, to touch it
  2737. >Like an instinct, it has a mind of its own, and you restrain yourself
  2738. >”This? It’s an heirloom. My father gave it to me.”
  2739. “Your slave father.”
  2740. >”Before that, he was a watchmaker. He died four years after the Exsilist assault on our town. I was but a foal, barely aware.”
  2741. “Why does it call to me?”
  2742. >”Beg your pardon?”
  2743. >Though he hides it well, you detect the slightest hint of… something, from Time Turner’s inflection
  2744. >As if he expected the question
  2745. “I heard a ringing in my ears when you first stepped off that blimp. I thought it was you at the time. But I get this feeling in my head like I need that thing, and I know it’s coming from it. Your watch. I… this is stupid.”
  2746. >”No, no no no. Not stupid. You want it?”
  2747. “Do I… what do you mean?”
  2748. >”I’m asking if you desire this watch for your own.”
  2749. “This is hardly the time for—”
  2750. >The cyborg stallion lunges forward, placing his hoof in yours
  2751. >Before the shock of what’s happening even registers for you, his muzzle is inches from yours, and his eyes are piercing and black, staring into your own
  2752. >His tail slithers along the grates, and his outstretched hoof…
  2753. >The watch, the crimson face, is right there, you’re nearly touching it, you’re nearly
  2754. >Inside
  2755. >The white sunset
  2756. >”Do you know why I became what I became? This beast of flesh and steel?”
  2757. “I—I…”
  2758. >”You’re nervous. You’re trembling. And you’re wondering why nopony’s seeing this happening, or interfering.”
  2759. “What do you—”
  2760. >”If you move now, you risk everything. There is a potent artificial venom in the tip of this tail, which—”
  2761. >The curved tip of that strange appendage leaps into the air towards you
  2762. >Millimeters from your sweat-glistening throat, it halts unnaturally fast, and you’re reminded that it’s a machine controlled by impulse, not some murderous snake
  2763. >”Is now poised to strike at you. To end you if you make the wrong move, or pretend not to feel fear in the presence of this thing.”
  2764. “I…”
  2765. >”Are you still because you’re not afraid? Do you feel a sense of calm washing over you?”
  2766. >You look for calm, something that you can latch onto, but nothing’s there
  2767. >There’s only fear, fear that the legacy you’ve imagined for yourself is about to come to an end at the hooves of this, this…
  2768. >This traitor!
  2769. >”I am no traitor, Rainbow Dash.”
  2770. >What is he doing?! Is he reading your thoughts?
  2771. >Has he been capable of that all this time?
  2772. >”Only through great effort. So no. This is the first time I’ve needed to do it to you, Rainbow Dash. You generally wear your heart on your sleeve. But not when it comes to matters of valor. You pretend to be brave because you are brave. All bravery is playing at not feeling fear when it counts. But I need to know now whether you are afraid of this death.”
  2773. “Y-you can just look inside me, a-and see it, then.”
  2774. >”No. You must say it. Say it now. And do not lie to me.”
  2775. “I… I…”
  2776. >If you even breathe wrong, that sharp needle goes right into your artery
  2777. >If you move funny
  2778. >Your body tells you to move away, to fight back, but your mind…
  2779. >Has it really come to this?
  2780. >You don’t understand what’s happening, all you know for certain is that…
  2781. “I’m afraid of you. I’m afraid.”
  2782. >The piercing gaze lessens; the wheels in Time Turner’s mind are spinning, he’s contemplating you
  2783. >The watch is there… you could touch it, take it, you could run to the other side of this hold, have your Wunderbolts eliminate him in an instant
  2784. >But…
  2785. >”You still trust me, don’t you? Even after that. Inexplicably.”
  2786. “You goddamn… you…”
  2787. >”There is a smokescreen around us now. A slight suggestive power, begging everypony else in this hold to avert their attention from us. There are powers in this world which are beyond our knowing. The Exsilists, my mistress the Highmind Empress, believe that science makes possible things which we cannot even imagine. I am a living rectification of that statement.”
  2788. >Ambassador Time Turner, this thing which is before you, is miles high now in your eyes, he is bold and terrifying, and the red crystal he carries in his watch spans the universe with its glow of ages
  2789. >”MAGIC, the true magic, makes possible things of which we cannot conceive. My father lives in the face of this watch. His father, and his father’s father, all live in this face. Back to the age of the Makers, when this watch was gifted to my ancestor, who was himself the descendant of a great magician…”
  2790. “Stop… I c-can’t…”
  2791. >You can see, SEE, the images he’s conjuring for you, bathed in red but visible as though you’re peering into some other world
  2792. >That, or a dream
  2793. >Yes, this all must be a dream, but you KNOW the difference between dreams and reality and this is reality, this is real this is real…
  2794. >You see a red line, extended into infinity and negative infinity, points on that line which are ponies, stallions, some unicorns, some earth ponies, all stallions…
  2795. >Time Turner’s apparition gestures to one point on this line, and you see that past in front of you, a strange hat, stars and spells
  2796. >”Starswirl the Bearded begot a son, who begot a son, who begot a son, unbroken until the founding of the new era, the banishment of Celestia, her turn to Prophetess of the apocryphal faith of the Sun…”
  2797. “Let me out of this, I can’t listen to this, y-you’re a goddamn… a goddamn…”
  2798. >You see a massive, haggard mare with a rainbow mane, like yours, though this one flows in the wind like a star field
  2799. >Her wings are torn and bent, her horn cracked, her white coat filthy
  2800. >And yet her eyes speak of great satisfaction, like her purpose has been totally fulfilled
  2801. >She is surrounded by stallions with crowns, and the infinite line intersects one of them
  2802. >They, in turn, are surrounded by…
  2803. >By the Gorgons, they’re massive and monstrous
  2804. >Tall, lanky forms, upright, eyes beady and dark, watching and waiting, observing history as it unfolds
  2805. >”And when she returned to Old Equestria, and ousted the Unified Kings who had replaced her before vanishing into oblivion, she allowed a single one of them to remain, one she trusted because of his heritage…”
  2806. >You feel like you’re swimming
  2807. >Like you’re underwater, and the ripples are above you; you felt this before, you feel it now
  2808. >”His name was Kabardian, Rainbow Dash. He was the descendant of Starswirl the Bearded, who even you must know by name. He carried her gift into the west, following the Makers, founded ancient Exsilia, and he was buried on death but her gift to him remained in his very blood, his very bones. Passed to his son, who passed it to his son, who passed it on for eight hundred fifty years, on and on, until New Exsilia grew from the ashes of the old, grew like a cancer without agenda. Do you know why I took this form, Captain Dash? DO YOU?”
  2809. >He’s growing still, and his voice is the voice of hundreds
  2810. >Even though he’s still standing there in front of you, nothing if not his normal self, his presence is a million miles high
  2811. >His eyes are galaxies
  2812. >And even now, those forms are like giants even to him, their heads flaming with strange manes, their muscles bound by bristling flesh, their gazes predatory
  2813. >”To survive! To be more than a slave to THEM! I offered my soul like a lamb to slaughter because I could feel the light dying in this artifact of ancient memory, this… this elemental shape which belonged to me only in the sense that I was holding it for somepony else. That somepony, Captain, is… is…”
  2814. >And then, he’s small
  2815. >Infinitesimally small
  2816. >Smaller than an atom, at least from your perspective
  2817. >The power isn’t in him, it’s entirely in that thing, that crystal face
  2818. >It’s calling to you now, but you can’t… you can’t…
  2819. >You don’t deserve it… you know you can’t deserve it
  2820. >”I can speak no more of this. The fact that you were not calmed by its power, as everypony else is, has proven what I have known to be true. You are special to it. And you… you… I understand its intentions, but you above all others it senses to be worthy. It’s unexplainable. But if fate has been kind to me, if this is truly the time of reckoning, before the coming of the Beast, if the Summer Solstice is what we’re waiting for, then… then this you cannot know. And what limited power I am afforded, this must be… must… be…”
  2821. >Erased
  2822. (Discontinuity)
  2823. >You are Captain Rainbow Dash, and you’re riddled with guilt
  2824. >Guilt over White Lightning and Fleetfoot, for handling that situation in the desert so poorly
  2825. >Time Turner stands beside you, and though he’s tried to offer you some consolation you can’t take it to heart
  2826. >When you return to Pegasopolis, which last you checked was around twenty minutes out, you’ll have to explain your failure to Hurricane and High Command
  2827. >Your reputation’s on the line here, and when the Canterian military comes to face Pegasopolis, wherever they end up coming from, you’ll have but that one chance to redeem yourself
  2828. >After all, if you ARE to be your father’s successor one day, you must be loyal to your true self
  2829. >And those border-hoppers… if they’re coming to Pegasopolis too, they’ll soon be in your hooves anyway
  2830. >”Captain Dash?”
  2831. >You regard Time Turner, whose dark frame is highlighted by the glint of electric light reflected off his chrome appendages
  2832. “What is it, Ambassador?”
  2833. >”I am sorry. Truly sorry.”
  2834. “Sorry for what?”
  2835. >”For… for nothing. We must find this traitor and expose them. Only then can your father be saved.”
  2836. “What’s bringing this on?”
  2837. >”The time’s drawing near, Captain. You must reassess your surroundings. Think about everything that’s transpired. The key to this mystery is within you.”
  2838. “I don’t know who’s going to betray my father, if something like that’s even going to happen, and isn’t just your Empress’ delusion.”
  2839. >”It will happen. It’s as fated as the sunset.”
  2840. “I hope you’re wrong.”
  2841. >Time Turner sighs wistfully, turning his back on you and retreating into the shadow of the hold
  2842. >As he walks away, you sneak a glance at the pristine face of that mysterious red watch adorning his fetlock
  2843. >Seems like you were mistaken; you’re almost in Pegasopolis, not twenty minutes out
  2844. >Just where does the time go?
  2845.  
  2846. ******
  2847.  
  2848. ECHO LOG: ACCOUNTABILITY REPORT, TRANSCRIPT PENDING CLASSIFICATION
  2849. CAPTAIN-MAJOR SPITFIRE, SEVENTH AERIAL, TEMP. “THUNDER 9”
  2850. 06 JUNO
  2851. 12:51:30
  2852. >”So everything’s set, then? I thought the op don’t start until Thunder One gives the O-K.”
  2853. “It doesn’t. But that’s our only contact with another unit for the entire duration of this mission.”
  2854. >”Is there a reason you took me aside here, Captain, or do you just think I’m slow and wanted to reiterate?”
  2855. “Bite me, Soarin.”
  2856. >”Gladly.”
  2857. “There’s something special I need you to do for me. Something the others can’t know about.”
  2858. >”Need me to, uh, get you in the fighting spirit? Maybe help you get the juices flowing, if you know what I mean?”
  2859. “I could break your forehoof in half before you count to one, soldier.”
  2860. >”But you won’t. ‘Cause you’re so infatuated with me.”
  2861. “Listen. We don’t have much time before pre-deployment. Have you ever heard of something called Project Pericles?”
  2862. >”Sounds above my paygrade.”
  2863. “I wasn’t being completely truthful back there when I said I knew nothing. The Chancellor let it slip from the outset when he consulted spec ops that something big was being deployed in the field for Operation Thunderstruck. A piece of hardware that’s barely even been field-tested, much less used in combat.”
  2864. >”But that’s somepony else’s job, right?”
  2865. “Right. But we don’t even know how many teams this operation has. For all we know, we could be flying in the dark right down the barrel of whatever the Chancellor’s going to do to these separatist pieces of shit.”
  2866. >”He wouldn’t authorize something that would put us in harm’s way.”
  2867. “You don’t know him like I do. Our job’s to take out the Wunderbolts and whatever else stands between the extraction team and General Hurricane. But who knows? It could very well be somepony else’s job to clean up whatever mess we make afterwards. Maybe clean us up too.”
  2868. >”You’re overthinking it, Spit. You said it yourself, we don’t ask questions.”
  2869. “He doesn’t have Senatori approval for this. I’m sure he doesn’t have any sort of writ to deploy Pericles, whatever the hell that is, and if it’s some kind of atom bomb times ten then we’re royally screwed.”
  2870. >”You think the secrecy’s to mask our own suicide.”
  2871. “No. I’m not gonna start thinking anything until I KNOW.”
  2872. >”The PAS knows we’re coming. I mean, they SAW you. That WAS intentional, right? You didn’t just say that to save face?”
  2873. “I did what I was asked to do. The Chancellor wants the enemy to hedge up all they’ve got, get everypony in one place. That can only be bad for us, no matter how you slice it.”
  2874. >”What am I supposed to do about it?”
  2875. “I was getting to that, asswipe. Look, once we find the informant, we’ve done our job. Either the Wunderbolts are all incapacitated, or all of us are. When that happens, and I mean the SECOND that happens, you round everypony up and get them as far from the city as possible. It’s not desertion if we’ve done what we came to do. But you’re not gonna stick around to see what the other Thunder teams have planned once the Wunderbolts are out of their way.”
  2876. >”Why’s this my job? What are you doing during all this?”
  2877. “Classified, sorry to say.”
  2878. >”Aw, c’mon. Don’t hit me with that red tape nonsense. We’re pals, ain’t we?”
  2879. “I just can’t, Soarin. If everything goes as well as we hope, then we’ll see each other on the other side like nothing ever happened.”
  2880. >”And if it doesn’t go the way we hope?”
  2881. “Then we’d better pray that Project Pericles is just some fireworks to celebrate our victory.”
  2882.  
  2883. ******
  2884.  
  2885. >”Twilight Sparkle.”
  2886. “Numena? Is it you? Are you… are you here?”
  2887. >”The light, Whisperer. Come away from that light. It shines too brightly.”
  2888. “But you are a being of the light. A Solenoid. Your power is…”
  2889. >”My power is of no concern to you. I am occluded by that which you mortals see. As the Truth is by design occluded by the grand obligations of fate.”
  2890. “Yes… I-I know that. If I can see you so clearly now, in these visions, in these dreams… who’s to say that whatever’s between me and the Mother’s Garden hasn’t diminished?”
  2891. >”Your proximity to that power aids you.”
  2892. “The Element?”
  2893. >”You are connected to it in more ways than one, Whisperer in the Dark. Your friend Applejack is its rightful bearer, this is true, but you are the force which compelled them to unite. You are also a bearer in your own right, of a power that is not yet fully yours.”
  2894. “The Matron Celest’s advice… am I really following it correctly? She told me to find the Truth and see past it before I could make it mine. I still don’t understand that, Numena. I’m still so lost…”
  2895. >”And yet you are found. By myself, by the Prophetess and the Mother above, you are cared for and guided by our hooves. Is your purpose not clear to you now?”
  2896. “Yes… I must unite the Elements… then what?”
  2897. >”Then and only then shall you stand against the thing which has been foretold, the incarnation of all of ponykind’s past mistakes. History was irrevocably altered by one fatal happening, nigh on a millennium ago. If the happening were to be rectified, if the future might be freed by the suffering of the past, then perhaps the Prophetess’ dream might become reality.”
  2898. “I am away from the light now.”
  2899. >”Yes… you are away from that which binds you to your body. Your soul is welcome here. And look below. What do you see?”
  2900. “I see what I’ve always seen. I see the Depths, and what awaits me if I fail in my purpose.”
  2901. >”Not only if you fail, Twilight. You cannot be punished for failure, any more than suffering can be quantified. You will fail many times in this thing. You will bear a mark, but it will not be failure that gives you that mark. Your purpose is one of hope.”
  2902. “I have so many questions. As always.”
  2903. >”I cannot answer them. This is known.”
  2904. “You answered one before. This is important, Numena, I—”
  2905. >”You do not make REQUESTS of me! Of an Angel of the Truth! Of a reflection of Mater Herself!”
  2906. “I know! I know… I’m sorry… so sorry…”
  2907. >”You are afraid of what you have seen. You want an explanation, do you not?”
  2908. “The Exsilist… how can he possess the power he did? If it is what I suspect it is…”
  2909. >”It is.”
  2910. “How can he have an Element?”
  2911. >”The how of the matter is unimportant. But though he comes from a different tribe, his guidance was that of Truth. You are to find this pegasus mare, the one he described. When this is done, you will know where next to search.”
  2912. “And the city? Pegasopolis? What will become of it?”
  2913. >”You have seen it plainly. The Truth is not revokable. It cannot be altered. It encapsulates all time, all space. What you and Applejack have seen in your visions will come to pass.”
  2914. “Then I’m already too late. I can’t save them…”
  2915. >”You will save one. The one that matters most. They are not yours to save, Twilight Sparkle. Until you have gathered the Elements, the six seeds of prophecy, until you have brought to light the Prophetess’ ultimate course, you are but a pony. Nothing more, nothing less. Take this in stride. See beyond the harshest parts of the Truth, see only what you can change… and change it.”
  2916. “Change…”
  2917. >The light… the light beyond the shadow that is Numena’s form
  2918. >It’s blue… has it always been blue?
  2919. >Deep, dark blue, the color of the infinite void of space
  2920. >The color of the Depths, too
  2921. >As the dream state collapses from waves to single value, from the infinite to tangible, the question still lingers
  2922. >The one you wanted answered most from this being with all the answers
  2923. >How did this Exsilist…
  2924. >How could he possible possess…
  2925. >
  2926. >
  2927. >…
  2928.  
  2929. ******
  2930.  
  2931. >An Element
  2932. >A second Element, equal in power to the first, if not greater
  2933. >Though, if they are pieces of Celestia’s power granted to her by Mater Solis, can their energies really be compared?
  2934. >You start awake, terrified of the ample yellow light that penetrates what was just darkness
  2935. >You’re certain of it now, more certain than before; what you and AJ saw last night was no shared vision, no dream
  2936. >There is a pony, an Exsilist stallion, in Pegasopolis RIGHT NOW, who bears another Element
  2937. >He used it to communicate with you across space
  2938. >He projected himself as Mater Solis projects the Truth across the Sun, exposed only for those willing to look
  2939. >It can only be more evidence that you’re on the right path, that the visions Numena imparted unto you weren’t just guiding you towards your own Ascension, but rather towards the higher purpose of the universe
  2940. >That dream… that dream!
  2941. >That was a dream!
  2942. >Where are you now? Why were you even asleep?
  2943. >Who are you? Are you Twilight Sparkle?
  2944. >Or are you something more… something less…
  2945. “A-Applejack?”
  2946. >”Finally awake?”
  2947. “Had another dream. Another encounter with Numena.”
  2948. >AJ snorts
  2949. >”Shoot, I barely slept at all last night. And I wasn’t quite in the mood for no more encounters with ghosts, after what we saw.”
  2950. “That was no ghost. That was an Element bearer.”
  2951. >The haze parts away from your eyes, and you’re able to see clearly
  2952. >You’re still in the cave where it happened, still tucked beneath that outcropping, the sands from last night still piled up on the other wall
  2953. >The sandstorm ended right after the apparition vanished, but you didn’t bother clearing out an exit then, you were so terrified
  2954. >AJ was worse; you had to drag her against the wall, since she either wouldn’t or couldn’t budge on her own
  2955. >She was pale in the face, and her hooves wobbled; whatever she saw then, when the Exsilist touched her head and shared his Truth with her, apparently robbed her of her finer motor skills
  2956. “I’m sorry you didn’t sleep. If I’d known I would’ve stayed up. With how weak you were, I’d assumed you were likely to pass out any time.”
  2957. >”S’alright. Somepony had to get up and clear the mountain of sand off of Winona.”
  2958. “You can stand.”
  2959. >”I can stand. I feel fine now, or whatever ‘fine’ is when you’re in the situation we’re in.”
  2960. >You struggle to do the same, lifting yourself gently onto your hooves and dusting off your robe
  2961. >It occurs to you that you haven’t changed clothes in four days, you’ve been in such a rush
  2962. >The clean spares are in your saddlebags, but this one…
  2963. >You suppose the dust suits you now
  2964. >Wordlessly, you hike your saddlebag up over your flanks and join Applejack where she stands, at the narrow exit of this rocky alcove
  2965. >You walk together outside, where the sands from last night have covered all trace of your being here
  2966. >Except for Winona, who’s been freshly cleaned
  2967. “How far out are we now? I wanted to discuss last night, but…”
  2968. >”Right. The map’s not much to go by out here, but my rough estimate’s that the city will be overhead in just a few hours.”
  2969. “I can’t believe we made it this far. All other factors notwithstanding, I guess I thought we’d be caught by now. Escorted up in one of their flying machines.”
  2970. >”You really ain’t scared of them, are you?”
  2971. “Me? I’m terrified. But I do what I do because—”
  2972. >”Because Mater wills it. Got it. But not every mare would stick her own neck out for what she believes in. I respect that.”
  2973. >You blush; Applejack flashes you a smirk, then starts towards the truck, where you follow her
  2974. >”Y’know, Miss Sunshine, that’s a mighty big assumption you made.”
  2975. “What?”
  2976. >”That what we saw last night was the work of another Element.”
  2977. “It has to be, doesn’t it? Numena all but confirmed it in my vision. As did the Exsilist. He’s out there somewhere, but rather than seek him out he wants us to find another. Somepony more worthy?”
  2978. >”Maybe he just came as a warning. Maybe he don’t want none snooping for him. That kind of power’s dangerous in the wrong hooves.”
  2979. “I don’t know. I felt… calm around him. Content, even though I felt as though I should’ve been afraid. And why should he have come to us, told us so much, if only to mislead us? We had nothing to go on to begin with.”
  2980. >AJ shakes her head as she climbs into the driver’s seat, and her body language tells you she isn’t quite convinced
  2981. >”The calm felt more like a side effect of whatever state he’d put us in than anything. Something to keep us from hightailing it outta there at the first sight of his spooky self.”
  2982. >Legs still wobbling, you stumble up into Winona’s cabin, saddlebag in tow, ready to face whatever’s ahead
  2983. >AJ flicks the starter switch, and the truck beneath you hums to life
  2984. >”This is gonna take some doing.”
  2985. >The sand is still piled so high up against Winona’s front grill that getting out of this little alcove is going to be tough
  2986. >After a few attempts at ramming against it, however, AJ finally succeeds, the front end lifting against the bump and careening down against the desert floor with a heavy thump
  2987. >Then, you’re back on the road, or at least what passes for a road in this part of the country
  2988. “I-I’ll be honest with you, AJ. These are all clearly points we’ve gone over before. What we’re doing in Pegasopolis, how it connects to the Mission, to the Elements, and now this new factor, knowing there’s an Element bearer in the city, knowing he plans to… well, I suppose to trade it off to somepony else he considers more worthy of its power.”
  2989. >”No guarantee of that.”
  2990. “My point being, the argumentation over it is all going to be moot once we make first contact. It doesn’t matter whether this Exsilist means us harm or good, and it doesn’t matter if the pegasi will treat us roughly or not. Either way, we must go into the city. Find a way, somehow.”
  2991. >”Our plan’s been loosy-goosy at best so far, so why change it up now?”
  2992. >You smile
  2993. “Precisely. We let the Truth unfold. We see past it.”
  2994. >”Easier said than…”
  2995.  
  2996. ******
  2997.  
  2998. >”Done.”
  2999. “Can she stand?”
  3000. >”Barely. But I’m not about to allow her that risk, even on your command, Captain Rainbow Dash.”
  3001. “She’s your patient. And what about—”
  3002. >”Still the same, I’m afraid. We’re monitoring her condition, but right now all we can do is wait.”
  3003. “Okay. Thanks.”
  3004. >Together with Lightning Dust, you stride out of the cramped medical chamber into the broad hall of the Militarbezirk medical wing
  3005. >Beyond the threshold, your fellow Wunderbolts are waiting anxiously for news
  3006. >All you can do is shake your head to assuage their combined nervousness
  3007. “It’s the same as before, ladies. White Lightning’s going to be out by this afternoon, no major fractures, just cut up good on impact. Doc just finished patching her up, in fact. Fleetfoot’s a different story. Her head got knocked around, might be concussive, might not. She sustained fractures in her left wing and foreleg, which is going to put her out of commission for a while.”
  3008. >”Lucky it wasn’t worse.”
  3009. “That’s right, Lightning. As for the rest of you, you’ve been briefed. You know your places. We’ve been tasked with the standing defense of lower Highstorm alongside infantry, to fall back to the central district if necessary. Stay posted in the area, you’ll be contacted when we’re ready for action. Dismissed.”
  3010. >With a mixture of forlornness and anxiety, your comrades scatter into their typical groups, whispering as they recede into the rush of the medical center
  3011. >Now, as usual, you’re left alone with Lightning Dust
  3012. >”I meant you, by the way.”
  3013. “What?”
  3014. >”YOU’RE lucky it wasn’t worse. The two of them’ll be fine, but you? You’re gonna be in trouuuuuble.”
  3015. >That sing-songy mocking always sets you on edge, but in light of what’s happened you control yourself
  3016. “That’s not true. We were recalled to aid with the city’s defense. That mission was never pass-fail, and you know it.”
  3017. >”Although if it was…”
  3018. “If it was, you’d better damn well have given me a passing grade, considering I pulled your sorry neck out of that dune.”
  3019. >”I’ll let that be compensation for all the times I saved you from flunking out of Academy.”
  3020. “That never—”
  3021. >”Shh. You hear that?”
  3022. >At first, you expect some kind of crude jab from Lightning, but when one doesn’t come you scrunch your features and listen
  3023. >Through the din of the walking medics and nurses, through the constant droning of medical equipment in the rows on rows of recovery rooms, you listen
  3024. >Across from White Lightning and Fleetfoots’ joint chamber, a long plate window exposes a view of the lower courtyard of the military complex, which sweeps by suspension bridge into the concourse of the main platform
  3025. >Lightning’s right; you do hear something emanating from that direction, from outside, though you can’t place exactly what it is
  3026. >Some kind of low rumbling, underneath everything else
  3027. >An earthquake down below, on the surface?
  3028. “I hear it. Should we…?”
  3029. >”You’re the boss, boss.”
  3030. >You shake your head and look back through the open door at Fleetfoot’s prone body, tended by the resident nurse
  3031. “I can’t imagine that happening to me. I honestly can’t even picture it. Losing a wing, a hoof, even for a little while… I couldn’t bear it.”
  3032. >”Like your purpose goes unfulfilled. But injuries in the field do happen.”
  3033. “If there’s ever going to BE a field. This whole defensive is based on a single encounter at the border. Not that I think it’s a terrible idea, but we could be pushing in right now. Acting rather than reacting.”
  3034. >Lightning leads you away from the recovery chamber towards which you’ve been slowly gravitating, and down the wide sunlit hall
  3035. >”You’ve always been too eager, Rainbow. Don’t forget this was your little coltfriend’s idea in the first place.”
  3036. “My… hey! You stand down on that, Lightning! Ponies could hear and actually believe it!”
  3037. >”Pffft. Is it wrong to say you’ve been close with him?”
  3038. “Out of necessity. Time Turner is a sensitive asset to the PAS right now. He’s high in the Exsilist ranks, he has the ear of the Highmind Empress, and…”
  3039. >It almost spilled right out, but your brain caught up to your words at just the right moment
  3040. >You begin coughing spontaneously, and Lightning nervously comes around to your flank to rest a hoof on the base of your wings
  3041. >”Gorgons, Dash… swallow a fly?”
  3042. >You struggle to laugh; your lungs feel like they’re bursting out of your ribcage
  3043. “Probably still some sand deep in there from last night. I’m surprised you’re not worse.”
  3044. >”Guess I’m just realllly good at holding my breath. But Dash?”
  3045. >You know the question before Lightning asks it, with that devilishly quizzical look on her face
  3046. >”And… what?”
  3047. “And… what do you mean?”
  3048. >”Don’t leave me hanging. If there’s some reason beyond the fact of your being Time Turner’s adjutant that you’re spending so much time with him, then I need to know.”
  3049. “Unfortunately, Lightning, you don’t ‘need’ to know anything. It’s all… very… complicated right now. And confidential.”
  3050. >”So it’s ‘this’ then? All the rules?”
  3051. “What are you talking about?”
  3052. >”C’mon, Rainbow. All formalities aside. It bugs you that I call you Cap’n, well there. It bugs me when you pretend that it’s all cast in a different light now we’re the Wunderbolts, that that somehow changes everything. That what we used to be, which was best friends, isn’t how it is anymore.”
  3053. “Lightning…”
  3054. >Your friend looks legitimately hurt, in a way you haven’t seen in her since the early days of the Academy
  3055. >It’s a look you thought had been bred out of her, but there it is, plain as day
  3056. >”We made an oath way back then, y’know? We said… we said there’d be no secrets there. And I know we’ve had this conversation before, about different things, and I KNOW that duty transcends yadda yadda yadda… but…”
  3057. “We made that oath when we were fillies.”
  3058. >”And that lessens it?”
  3059. >You’re tempted to give her a flat “yes”, but you find that the word just doesn’t describe the way you feel
  3060. >You’ve wanted to share the details of Time Turner’s true intentions with her since the moment he divulged them to you, but you didn’t want to risk compromising her
  3061. >Despite how much she pisses you off, she’s loyal to you, loyal to the PAS; if there’s anypony you can tell about the theory, it’s her
  3062. “No. It doesn’t. And we ARE still friends, first and foremost. But there are certain things—”
  3063. >”I’m also your squadmate. Your second-in-command. I see no reason why you shouldn’t just say it, now that it’s clear there’s something to be said.”
  3064. “I… listen.”
  3065. >Cautiously, you point with your head and eyes to a dark, empty recovery chamber, which Lightning silently follows you into
  3066. >The shades are drawn, the equipment continues to hum, and you close the sliding door behind you
  3067. >Then, you look Lightning directly in the eye, her features crossed with stripes of diffused sunlight in this blue darkness
  3068. “This doesn’t leave this room.”
  3069. >”That’s a given.”
  3070. “Time Turner believes… and this is an enormous maybe. But Time Turner believes there is a Canterian spy, a traitor, working high in the ranks of the PAS. Possibly even a member of High Command. He believes they’ve been placed there to assassinate the General, my father.”
  3071. >Lightning shrinks at the word “traitor,” but quickly recovers and blinks frantically
  3072. >”Based on what intel?”
  3073. “Intel of a…”
  3074. >You can’t believe you’re saying this
  3075. “…of a supernatural origin. The Highmind Empress of New Exsilia has these visions. Something to do with her connection to the Makers through their technology, maybe even a tech they aren’t sharing with us. But she sees the future. And she’s seen what might happen if this Canterian invasion comes to pass.”
  3076. >”Okay. Um… yeah. Passing over how ridiculous that sounds, if there’s a mole, you should’ve come to me the second you learned about it. I could’ve helped you, Rainbow.”
  3077. “Time Turner’s been conducting his own investigation, as have I. To what… uh… limited extent I can. We compared notes before the High Command meeting that led us into the Palomino, but all we know for certain is that they’ll probably come out of hiding during the Canterian assault. We don’t know who, we don’t know when. But soon. And they’re entrenched deep.”
  3078. >”Somepony on the division?”
  3079. “I considered that. But I trust all of them completely. Time Turner’s implied a suspicion of Hauptgeneral Wind Rider, but…”
  3080. >”But he’s been with the PAS since its inception. Since the Rebellion. Who’s new? Who might’ve come out of absolutely nowhere, blindsided everything?”
  3081. >You shake your head in frustration, both at your lack of an answer to Lightning’s question and at your decision to tell her
  3082. >As much as you trust her, you’ve now placed a hefty burden on her shoulders that she doesn’t deserve to carry, especially in this time of crisis
  3083. “They can’t be TOO new. They’re trusted, we know that much. As trusted as a member of High Command? That remains to be seen.”
  3084. >”If—”
  3085. >Before your friend can ask you her question, the low rumbling you heard earlier intensifies
  3086. >It had waned down without your noticing, but it’s back now, and it’s impossible to ignore
  3087. >Lightning notices it too, clutching her head and regaining her balance as the room seems to destabilize for a moment
  3088. >”Wh-what the… the propulsion?”
  3089. “Doesn’t matter. We need to get to Staatskongress, now!”
  3090. >”We don’t even know if—”
  3091. “I said NOW!”
  3092. >You rush out the door back into the open hall, and Lightning relents, following close behind
  3093. >You weave through nervous fluttering military doctors and mobile patients, and when the galloping becomes too hard to maintain, you lift off and swoop over their heads
  3094. >Around a corner, into the atrium, and out the broad sky-door, into the light of mid-afternoon
  3095. >Into the sun
  3096. >The air is warmer than you expected, especially for the altitude, but you pay it no mind
  3097. >Noises like that are NOT supposed to happen, and if it’s happening universally across the city, rather than just being localized in Militarbezirk
  3098. >Well, you can’t answer that question without contacting your father
  3099. >You key into his offices with the short-range comm on your fetlock, listening to the fain buzz as the device attempts to establish contact
  3100. >Then, the static resides and gives way to a brusque voice on the other end
  3101. >”Rainbow Dash?”
  3102. “General! What’s happening, are you alright?”
  3103. >”Fine, Captain. What seems to be the concern, I thought you’d be stationed by now.”
  3104. “We’re in Militarbezirk. The briefing isn’t for another two hours. What’s the situation there?”
  3105. >”We were finishing up some detailing, and then I was about to meet you with a detachment for personal instructions.”
  3106. “There was a noise here. Something is happening, the propulsion is destabilizing, i-it feels like an earthquake!”
  3107. >”In Militarbezirk? That shouldn’t be possible considering—”
  3108. “General!”
  3109. >The command in your voice surprises even you, but now is no time for formality
  3110. >The sun, it’s… why is it that shade?
  3111. >You’re staring right into it as you sweep low across the courtyard and towards the bridge, intending not to stop flying until you reach Staatskongress
  3112. >The feeling in your mind… something is wrong, VERY wrong
  3113. >In any other circumstance, you’d chalk up whatever happened back there, that something that EVERYPONY felt, wasn’t worth your time or notice
  3114. >But given the possible imminence of Canterian contact, it’s as though there’s something driving you forward, something magnetic and awful, containing you to this path
  3115. “General, Lightning Dust and I are on our way to evac you, now.”
  3116. >”Captain Dash, I hardly think that sort of action is nece—”
  3117. “No! We’re running out of time!”
  3118. >”What makes you say that?”
  3119. >What does make you say that?
  3120. >Apart from the rumbling, and the sun…
  3121. >The sun…
  3122. >You stop dead in your tracks, fixated on that point in space
  3123. >It’s across the city, through the weave of pillars and roofs, towers and banners, not yet touching the summer horizon but approaching fast, and it’s…
  3124. >”Rainbow!”
  3125. >A sea-green blur rushes by your flank, then doubles back and halts hovering before you
  3126. >Between you and the object of interest
  3127. >”You shot out of there so fast I could barely follow! If we’re going to Pegasopolis Platform, we need to notify the rest of the Wunderbolts! They’re still back at Militarbezirk, and—”
  3128. “Lightning. Do you see it?”
  3129. >Your friend merely stares at you, dropping elevation slightly and rolling in front of you, but it’s already too late
  3130. >You can see it through her, past her, you can see the color of that light in the sky
  3131. >Of course in the daylight it shines, but dark clouds are brewing on the horizon, thunderclouds, and the light persists through them
  3132. >Not through them, in FRONT of them
  3133. >When it sinks there, when you’re right there, sinking along with it, you’ll see it again, you’ll see it so clearly, so intimately…”
  3134. >”Rainbow! If we’re going, let’s go!”
  3135. >”Captain Dash, we are perfectly capable here. Your presence at Staatskongress is not… ed at th… else…”
  3136. >The signal’s breaking up with General Hurricane
  3137. >No, dad
  3138. >Dad?
  3139. >He’s more than that, isn’t he, more than just…
  3140. >This presence in your mind…
  3141. “General Hurricane! Can you hear me?”
  3142. >”… all… posit… elp carry wha… nit all on th…”
  3143. >And then, silence
  3144. >But for the wind, of course, the highline wind carrying across all the lands of Equestron
  3145. >Ending here, at the edge of the world
  3146. >It isn’t just a white sunset anymore, there are two suns
  3147. >Obscured by the material things in front of it, but so visible to you
  3148. >Two suns, one eclipsing the other, one so much closer, mere miles away
  3149. >The satellite image, the grainy prints, they’ve come to life
  3150. >It’s something you feel in your heart, and even so far away, so obscured, you’re certain it’s there
  3151. >Certain that…
  3152. “It’s today. It’s right now.”
  3153. >”What are you talking about, Rainbow?”
  3154. “It’s going to happen soon. It’s all going to happen soon. General Hurricane, my… forget the Wunderbolts. We need to be there now. We need to…”
  3155.  
  3156. ******
  3157.  
  3158. ”Move! Go faster, faster!”
  3159. >”What in the sam hay do you think I’m doing, Miss Sunshine?”
  3160. >Applejack veers off the road, kicking up dust as Winona goes careening into the ditch at the asphalt’s edge
  3161. >It’s been three hours since you left your alcove campground, and you are Twilight Sparkle, a-and…
  3162. >And you can barely concentrate with all this noise
  3163. >Not the noise on the surface, not here, but someplace else, someplace both darker and lighter than this material world
  3164. >The sub-layer, the layer beyond dreams, beyond consciousness…
  3165. >Is it Truth? Is it…
  3166. GATHUNK
  3167. >”Get your head back in it, Twilight! They aren’t even following us!”
  3168. “Wh-what?”
  3169. >You’d sensed something there, another soul perhaps, but now it’s being ripped away, and you’re back here, back in the truck with Applejack, back to being chased by…
  3170. >Well, you don’t even know who
  3171. >You saw it on the horizon fifteen minutes ago, a distant shimmer, like a mirage
  3172. >But mirages REMAIN on the horizon; this one only rose, gaining speed and altitude, distorting the clouds and eventually the sun into rippling waveforms as it passed over them
  3173. >With the Element, Applejack had seen life there, but it was too fleeting for her to comprehend its shape
  3174. >It came closer and closer to you, following the road, coming to terminal velocity several meters overhead; only by that telltale sheen at its very edges could you distinguish its shape, its presence
  3175. >Something following, something LIVING…
  3176. >With how many bizarre things have come to pass in the last few days, you’re barely even fazed, though at least the Exsilist had cast some form of psychic inhibitor over you, preventing you from feeling fear
  3177. >No such presence exists here; your instincts drive your senses wild, you’re desperate to get out of this truck, to GALLOP, to RUN as fast as you can
  3178. >Your body doesn’t care that this way is faster, it must be better than this, it must be it must be…
  3179. >But… wait, what did Applejack just say?
  3180. >Your thoughts overtook her voice… did she say it isn’t following you?
  3181. >Then…
  3182. >It should be YOU who’s driving now, and her who’s…
  3183. >Celestia, of course!
  3184. “Applejack! Trade places with me!”
  3185. >Your friend shoots a panicked look in your direction, those emerald eyes full of the same confused terror you feel in yourself
  3186. >”Are you off your rocker? Not at this speed, and you never even properly learned—”
  3187. “I’ve seen you drive! How hard can it be?”
  3188. >”For somepony without any experience at all? Gee, I sure wonder!”
  3189. “It’s the only way for you to get a closer look at that thing! If it isn’t just an illusion, or some kind of PAS defense mechanism…”
  3190. >”That probably IS what it is! You have no idea what the Exsilists have cooked up for them, for how close we are to Pegasopolis!”
  3191. “Please, AJ!”
  3192. >”Gah!”
  3193. >Applejack tosses her hat off her golden locks, spiraling it into the back seat, then gently eases off the acceleration lever
  3194. >No, no… the “gas pedal,” that’s right
  3195. >”Cross over me! Now or never!”
  3196. >Standing up in your seat on all fours, your head crushed against the roof of the truck, you steady yourself as AJ gestures for you to take the steering module
  3197. >You take it just as she releases her hooves from it and from the gas, and you slide in opposite directions while Winona barrels on at a slight angle away from the road
  3198. >As long as you don’t crash into a dune, everything SHOULD be okay
  3199. >With some minor readjustments, and an unfortunate kick to AJ’s barrel which she receives with a huff, you slam yourself down into the driver’s seat and prepare to do what you’ve been afraid of doing this entire Mission
  3200. >Nervously, you drive your hindleg into the accelerator, feeling the vibrations beneath you as Winona responds to your input
  3201. >That part of it’s almost easier than you thought, but steering is another story; you’re too rough with it at first, and Winona jerks and almost loses balance in the low friction of the sand giving way to dry grass
  3202. >”Less force! Compensate, don’t yank it! Get us even with the road, and then just keep it steady
  3203. >You don’t really feel like you’ve got the hang of it yet, but for the first time you realize you’ve been looking at your hooves this whole time, not at what’s in front of you
  3204. >You glance up and out the windshield, and the rush of this incredible speed hits you again, just as it did the very first time you rode in a vehicle with Brittle Bong
  3205. >It’s different now that you’re controlling the movement; it’s like you’re galloping without anything to halt you, not your stamina, not the terrain, not anything
  3206. >It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, and without thinking you slam your hoof down on the gas as far as it’ll go and ease the wheel towards the road again
  3207. >By now, the shimmering invisible thing has surpassed you, and is moving along the vector of the road up in the air
  3208. >Applejack hurriedly produces the Element from her saddlebag, and as it glows in her hoof you can only guess at what she’s seeing
  3209. >It’s in clear view of you now, a distortion of reality gliding over the world, a great invisible monster
  3210. >With life force
  3211. >The quick glances you’re able to steal over at AJ while you pilot this metal box on wheels tell you that her explanation won’t give you much else to go on
  3212. >Her eyes are locked on the shape, transfixed by it; you even detect an orange glow there too, as though the Element’s energy is pouring out of her, too much to contain or suppress
  3213. >That sort of power… you find yourself desiring it more than anything else, but you banish those thoughts as soon as they appear
  3214. >A Sister of Solemnity should not covet…
  3215. >”Alright. I’ve seen inside.”
  3216. >AJ stoically sets the Element down, and its psychic hold on her form instantly dissipates
  3217. >She can control that more easily now, it seems…
  3218. “What IS it?”
  3219. >”There are ponies inside. Technologies I’ve never seen before… engravings all over, tiny, tiny engravings. Like random little grooves all over the inside. But the ponies… they don’t look Exsilist. They’re entirely organic. But they ain’t all pegasi neither.”
  3220. “So it isn’t a defense… it’s an assault?”
  3221. >”That Spitfire at the border… I think she was only the beginning. Whoever that is, they aren’t concerned with us in the least bit. Their destination’s the same as ours, but what they mean to do there I haven’t the foggiest.”
  3222. “It’s invisible… how is it invisible? Where did it… they…”
  3223. >”Ain’t entirely invisible. We could see it behind us after all, though only because we were REALLY looking for it. Though it ain’t making a lick of noise, and if I had to guess I’d say radar don’t see it none.”
  3224. “Then it’s today. Celestia, it’s today. What we’ve seen in the visions, the city in flames… we’re going to be too late. It’s already happening. Numena was right.”
  3225. >”She told you about this? Last night?”
  3226. “Only that fate is irrevocable. Unchanging. What we see is what will come to pass. In other communions, I’d been led to believe otherwise, but… no. We can only save our one.”
  3227. >”Then why the trouble of finding the missile silos underneath our own danged Sky Farms? Why any of the pretext from the very beginning? Assuming it was all ‘part of the plan,’ that is.”
  3228. “I… I don’t have an answer for that. But I suppose the truth behind the six seeds could not be revealed to us until we had one in our possession. It was too dangerous, or rather… if you had known what lay within See Rock, would you still have followed me up its slopes?”
  3229. >”Don’t expect an answer to that from me, either. I can never go back, knowing what I know. Being in possession of this…”
  3230. >Your friend regards the hexagonal gem snuggled between her leg and the seat
  3231. >”…this THING, it’s only made my belief that we’re doing the right thing stronger. But put all that aside for a second. How are we going to get in touch with this pony, this mare, once we’re there? Or failing that, the Exsilist?”
  3232. “We’ll find a way. I know we will. But I’m going to follow that thing for now. Keep your mind trained on it as best as you can, in case I lose sight of it.”
  3233. >The ditch deepens; you push Winona harder over a slope to get back to the road, but the terrain gives you more trouble than you expected
  3234. >The San Palomino desert is giving way to a more humid, grassier climate, with brush and old irrigation canals flanking you on both sides
  3235. >You suppose this land must’ve been settled by earth ponies before the PAS banished all non-pegasi from the region
  3236. >This is the borderland of Las Pegasus… that is, it used to be
  3237. >But that means…
  3238. >”Twilight? Look.”
  3239. >The slope crests, and you swerve back onto the pale, neglected asphalt to trail in tow of the invisible aircraft
  3240. >You look up from the road, and see what AJ signaled
  3241. >It’s there
  3242. >You hadn’t really believed in it until just now, just this moment, but it’s really there, the inverted dome
  3243. >Pegasopolis against the horizon, looking from this angle like any other city, but rising rapidly as it parts from that line between earth and sky, until it detaches completely from the land below
  3244. >Its size deceives you; you know it must be miles in the air, and yet it seems so close to the ground
  3245. >It is every pegasus city that the PAS have stolen, anchored, and towed into their monstrous collective
  3246. >It is Maker magic, the magic of technology beyond your knowing, that allows it to float without the aid of pegasus cloud magic
  3247. >No Blight, no blasphemy there, merely untold ages of an alien race, long dead now, perfecting their knowledge, and that knowledge passed on to ponykind
  3248. >There are no propulsion elements visible on the underside of the dome, no massive electromagnets or blazing blue flames, nothing but a smooth chrome surface that casts a shadow like a mountain below it
  3249. >And resting upon that bowl is a city, a real city, real as any other, and the likeness is so perfect to your visions, your dreams, that you can barely breathe
  3250. >It’s this angle, this fatal angle, the sun nearly eclipsed by the shape of Pegasopolis, it was from RIGHT HERE that you saw that terrible power inflict itself upon all within
  3251. >Engulfed in rainbow fire, ponies burning, and yet… you are here for only one
  3252. >You’re too late, you’re far, far too late
  3253. >All around the main “platform,” smaller satellite clusters comprised of elements of the other pegasus cities float suspended to the central axis, and that somehow bothers you more than anything
  3254. >Back in the convent, Orange Swirl called them “grav-platforms,” in a conversation which now seems ages ago, and yet truly it’s been only around a month
  3255. >But looking at the shape now, you don’t believe it’s some form of anti-gravity that compels Pegasopolis to reach those heights
  3256. >It’s something else, something more obvious, something…
  3257. >”You seeing that too?”
  3258. “I see… oh Celestia, I see it… the city, it’s… it’s incredible. It’s wonderful.”
  3259. >”It won’t be for long. But that ain’t what I’m talking about, Twi. It’s the invisible thing… or rather, the THINGS…”
  3260. >Things?
  3261. >You glance left and right, and sure enough across the plain, miles away but visible enough when you squint and search, are other shimmers, other transparent objects all converging on Pegasopolis
  3262. >Well over a dozen, by your hasty reckoning
  3263. >The base of your horn begins to burn, but you pay it no mind; you resolved to do this, you resolved to complete your Mission, to unite the six seeds of prophecy
  3264. >You will not abandon that course for anything, least of all fear
  3265. >You are a different mare than the one who left that convent, you are not afraid, you are a Sister of Solemnity imbued with the Truth, a sharer of Syncresis
  3266. >You are Twilight Sparkle, and you will drive on, drive on
  3267. >”I can warn them.”
  3268. >The tightness in your chest rises again, out of nowhere
  3269. >You aren’t far away anymore, you’re close, so close
  3270. “What? How?”
  3271. >”The beacon, Twilight. Before it was unconscious, it was just a sign of the fusion. The orange light in the sky over See Rock, I think… I think I can reproduce it.”
  3272. >The city must only be half an hour away or less now
  3273. >Your mind is racing; can you trust AJ to deliver on a promise like that without hurting herself?
  3274. >If her fugue state before was a consequence of the energy release that accompanied the Element’s materializing on the physical plane, then you have no idea what recreating the conditions of that release could do AJ
  3275. >It could put her out of consciousness, it could cripple her, or worse…
  3276. >To make such True magic manifest… but you’re left with no other options
  3277. >You could signal the arrival of these craft, as well as your own presence on the ground
  3278. >You don’t care about the consequences now, you NEED to ensure the survival of the Element bearer in that city, and whatever’s within those invisible craft is about to make your visions come to life
  3279. “Do it. I-if you think you’re able, do it.”
  3280. >”Here goes nothing.”
  3281. >AJ clutches the Element, and a sharp cry escapes her lips as her motivation fills its gleaming core
  3282. >It glows around her, through her, and before you even have time to shield yourself from whatever’s coming, a great arc of electric light blasts upward from her head into the air
  3283. >It blows a smoking hole clean through the roof of Winona, and continues upward into the sky, now darkening with foreboding clouds
  3284. >The storms of Rich Valley have caught up with you, and you’re bringing the thunder…
  3285. >Before the arc can puncture the underside of those storm clouds, however, it explodes like a great firework, and the rippling beauty of Celestia’s true magic echoes through your heart
  3286. >A star has appeared beneath the clouds, a great blinding sphere of divine energy, Mater Solis come to earth
  3287. >It surely glows as brightly as the sun, casting harsh shadows outward from your moving vehicle, the dusky grass, even the city far, far away
  3288. >You know they can see the beacon there, as can the inhabitants of the invisible craft
  3289. >If they notice you, fine; you could use the attention
  3290. >You’re so close now… so close to...
  3291.  
  3292. ******
  3293.  
  3294. ECHO LOG: ACCOUNTABILITY REPORT, TRANSCRIPT PENDING CLASSIFICATION
  3295. CAPTAIN-MAJOR SPITFIRE, SEVENTH AERIAL, TEMP. “THUNDER 9”
  3296. 06 JUNO
  3297. 17:45:00
  3298.  
  3299. “That’s it. Everypony synchronize. Like I said, fast and easy if we do our job right. Comms are going dark on this one, if not for practicality’s sake for the fact that all communications will be scrambled as a hindrance to the enemy. Most of you will be within earshot of one another anyway.”
  3300. >”Not taking into account the noise.”
  3301. >”What noise?”
  3302. “No noise. Our mission’s a quiet one. You move out of the Pod once we get the signal from Thunder One, you cut under the city bottom, that gives you a direct line to Highstorm Port without any flak. That’s where the Wunderbolts are posted up, according to our source.”
  3303. >”Is it safe to pass under the city? Under the dome, I mean. What if whatever field they’ve got keeping them afloat scrambles our insides or something?”
  3304. “Our vests are polarized, if that’s the case. But truthfully? We don’t know how they keep it up. If they can fly around and be fine with it, so can we.”
  3305. >”And once we do reach the Wunderbolts? We engage directly?”
  3306. >”And we eliminate.”
  3307. “Yes. And that’s my word, not the word of Thunderstruck. The Chancellor says to incapacitate. But THEY are prime loyalists. They’re young, that’s true. I feel ashamed to say that this is the only option, but it’s the only option. Absolute assurance that they will not interfere with the extraction of PAS High Command, most of all Hurricane. There’s some good news, though: Their captain, the General’s daughter, will not be joining them. So the warning about ensuring her survival was unnecessary.”
  3308. >”Who’s taking care of her?”
  3309. “I don’t know. But a link-up from Thunder One confirmed it. Directly from the lips of the informant.”
  3310. >”You’ve been in contact with Thunder One from the beginning? You said—”
  3311. “I am operating on my own standard, and the standard of the operation. We are running separately on this one, so there’s no need for full transparency.”
  3312. >”That’s bullshit. Come on, Cap, that’s—”
  3313. >”She’s right. Don’t hardball on this one, Silverwing, she knows what’s best for us.”
  3314. >”You’re in on this too, Soarin?”
  3315. >”I’m not ‘in’ on anything. But I trust Spitfire.”
  3316. >”Did you know she wasn’t even going to fly with us in person?”
  3317. >”I did, actually.”
  3318. >”Well I didn’t. This whole thing reeks, and you two most of all! Everypony’s got their own damn game in this, and this whole operation’s going to be in shambles because of it! How do you know this Thunder One’s even got any part of this on lock? How do they know—”
  3319. “How to coordinate a special op? Because of experience. If you all want everything I know, then I’m an open book. But it sincerely isn’t much more than the rest of you. There are seventeen of you, and butting heads will do us no good. The only thing I know about Thunder One is that she’s a unicorn. A powerful one, capable of managing multiple high-intensity spells at once.”
  3320. >”Magic? We’re really relying on that?”
  3321. “Our ancestors did. Some would say we’ve lost a lot by not keeping up with it the way, say, the Unicronians do.”
  3322. >”Is she Unicronian?”
  3323. “Who can say? She’s got the accent for it, I s’pose. You can hardly tell over these comms, though. Point is, it’s a weapon the PAS don’t have. They’ve shunted it completely. And I can’t believe you’re surprised, Sandstorm. Did you think we had cloaking tech capable of concealing this vessel yet?”
  3324. >”It’s just… an archaic kind of thing. Unreliable.”
  3325. “If it works, it works. But Thunder One’s directly overseeing the initial extraction of General Hurricane. Along with the informants. When everything’s all wrapped up in a nice big bow, that’s when Pericles comes in.”
  3326. >”What the hell’s Pericles? Soarin?”
  3327. >”Don’t ask. You won’t get an answer from either of us. Or, I guess you’d get the same answer as always.”
  3328. “We don’t know.”
  3329. >”Fine. Then there’s one more thing I’d like to know, Cap. If you’re not with us on this, who’s in command?”
  3330. “Soarin is. At least until we rendezvous.”
  3331. >”And when do you think that’ll be?”
  3332. “When the time’s right. I’m passing overhead. Already been tagged for an illusion charm, so I’ll be able to go in deep.”
  3333. >”We can’t all get those?”
  3334. “Not if we want the Pods to stay cloaked. And they won’t be for much longer.”
  3335. >”So we trust Soarin to guide us under and over.”
  3336. >”If you’re capable of trusting me, donkey-breath.”
  3337. >”With anything else? No. With this? I can’t speak for everypony, but… it’s a done deal. So there’s nothing to argue about.”
  3338. >”Sounds like your way of saying yes.”
  3339. “Then it’s done. We all trust each other. Maybe you can trust the plan, too. In ten minutes we split out. Let’s not let the other teams down. Not that they would know until it’s too late…”
  3340.  
  3341. ******
  3342.  
  3343. >{”Demise. It is upon you, denizens of Pegasopolis. Traitors to the union of Canterium. Complicit in her taxing war against the forces of evil, that most notorious Cult of Exsilium. Here is the reckoning which has long awaited you. Unless.”}
  3344. >By the time you and Lightning reach Avemequus Plaza, looking over the towering monuments to the Staatskongress Building, you know you’re too late
  3345. >The great monitors adorning every pale surface, the digital walls containing the checkered floor, fountains and trees and life, are now alight with a face that is familiar and hated
  3346. >Deep crowds of pegasi, both grounded and hovering, cluster close together in apprehension as the giant features of the speaking pony continue to move with its words
  3347. >You and Lightning, poised atop the clock tower across from Staatskongress, have a sweeping view of everything occurring, the chaos, the noise, this resounding speech
  3348. >Because there, cast on all the screens between all the banners, where your father’s face spoke its triumphant speech only a week ago now, is the towering face of the Canterian Chancellor Neighsay
  3349. >It’s a perversion, a horrible perversion, it’s unspeakable, it’s…
  3350. >It’s a distraction
  3351. >”What kind of sick—”
  3352. “It doesn’t matter. My fa—General Hurricane might still be in danger. We have to go on.”
  3353. >”We don’t know what’s down there. If they’ve taken control of the broadcast system, we can’t know what else they’ve taken for themselves. The automated defense systems. The power grid. Anything and everything might be working in the Canterians’ favor. Listen!”
  3354. >The long white face of the enemy looks down on the plaza, his unmoving eyes cold and satisfied, the wrinkles about his eyes and cheeks magnified by their ominous presence
  3355. >It only pisses you off more to see his lousy face in such high definition, to know that he WANTS you to see this to hear his booming voice
  3356. >{”Unless, of course, we are granted your unconditional surrender. I am not one for extended theatrics, but the circumstances have afforded me the privilege of offering this choice to you, the ponies of Pegasopolis, rather than merely to your High Command, which has thus far demonstrated its keen ability to keep you from the truth. Those not born in this bastard reflection of the grace of pegasus architecture were undoubtedly stolen from your homes, your livelihoods. Thrust into this place which supposedly celebrates pegasus supremacy over all ponies.”}
  3357. >You spread your wings and practically shoot off the marble ledge, over the balustrade separating you from the open space above the plaza
  3358. >Lightning follows close behind; you can hear the flutter of her wings over your own
  3359. >She was never so quiet as you, so contained
  3360. >But the rage is overcoming you now, the feverish anger that’s going to make you explode if you don’t release it on something soon
  3361. >How could the Canterians have entered the city? What could they have done to the General?
  3362. >With every garrison from every corner of the expanse concentrated here, in Pegasopolis, where could the defenses have been breached?
  3363. >Reflected in the windows of the building across the way, the brilliant light of that second sun in the distance glows as brightly as when you first detected it
  3364. >”What do you think it is?”
  3365. >Lightning calls out to you, straining her voice over the monotonous drone of the Chancellor’s intrusive voice
  3366. “No idea. A Canterian weapon, maybe. A bomb that went off too soon. Your guess is as good as mine. But… do you feel that pulse from it?”
  3367. >”What pulse?”
  3368. “Like a… like something I’ve felt before, from somepony else. Something I couldn’t place then, like a kind of energy you can feel with a sixth sense.”
  3369. >”Too esoteric for my taste. I don’t feel a thing except for anger when I look at that pathetic Chancellor’s sniveling—”
  3370. “Watch out!”
  3371. >Lightning heeds your warning, and ducks just in time as a squad of Stormwing flyers crosses you, prepping for engagement at the outer rim
  3372. >”Watch it, greenies!”
  3373. >{”I cannot blame you for this existence, only your leadership, who has thus far stubbornly refused treatise with Canterium, and has instead chosen to spite us by providing a nuclear arsenal to the mortal enemy of all ponykind. The Cult of Exsilium are machine-worshippers. They desire to reshape the world in the image of their Maker gods. They are not your allies. But I am no kinder when it comes to matters of national security. I am offering this one last chance to your High Command. Surrender all, or Thunderstruck shall prevail.”}
  3374. >Screw you, Chancellor
  3375. >The PAS never surrenders, not until their last dying breath
  3376. >Until YOUR last dying breath
  3377. >Recollecting herself, Lightning joins you as you cross from one overhang to the next, maintaining a constant eye on the crowd of citizens below
  3378. >Could there already be Canterians among them? Where are they attacking from?
  3379. >Is that beacon in the sky important to their plans?
  3380. >But the rain from the east is already darkening that great white light, which has dimmed to pale orange, and has nearly vanished now
  3381. >The diffuse sunlight through the storm clouds darkens also, indicating that sunset is fast approaching
  3382. >You make a final leap across the gap spanning the exterior of the gilded apartments of some big leaguer to the simple stone balcony reaching out from the third story of Staatskongress
  3383. >The balcony on which your father stood, garbed in ornamental battle wear, where he’d give his speeches and…
  3384. >And still will
  3385. >You race over the balcony, now emptied of all its decorations, and practically slam yourself against the locked doors leading into the upper offices
  3386. >They barely budge
  3387. “Help me with this!”
  3388. >Your friend, huffing from the exertion of following you all this way, settles next to you and looks you straight in the eye
  3389. >”You really think the General’s in there?”
  3390. “He was ten minutes ago! Before he cut out, he was in his office.”
  3391. >”And what made him cut out? Did you test any other frequencies to check for jamming?”
  3392. “I… no. No. But we’re still going in.”
  3393. >You’re right to be urgent, aren’t you?
  3394. >This attack is coming, and if Hurricane was caught unawares, if his security isn’t doing its job…
  3395. >You wonder how many Canterians it would take to bring down that monster, Bulk Biceps
  3396. >Scratch that; how many would it take to bring down this city?
  3397. >Your father’s life work?
  3398. >You grunt in rage, bashing against the reinforced door, and Lightning finally relents and follows suit against the hinge
  3399. >Every blow is an echo across the frantic plaza, collected and diminished by the sheer number of ponies out there watching, waiting
  3400. >You get into a rhythm with Lightning, heaving against the hardwood at a precise tempo
  3401. >And just when you’re about to give up, the mass buckles ever so slightly
  3402. >Barely perceptible, but you noticed
  3403. >In a fury, consumed by all the images flashing through your mind of what could be happening in there, what could be going on all around you, you make one final effort, harder than ever
  3404. >Your entire weight shifts under you as your wings propel you straight into the door with enough force to kill a pegasus if you collided with them
  3405. >Lightning doubles this force, and the thick door blasts into splinters at its edges, exploding out of its frame and leaving a few large, cracked shards to crash into the antechamber within
  3406. >It made a hell of a noise, but you don’t care
  3407. >Let them know you’re coming for them; let them prepare for you
  3408. >There are no ponies immediately in sight within this small part of the Staatskongress building; no pegasi, no Canterians, no anypony
  3409. >But further within, a few rights and lefts later, you’ll find General Hurricane’s office, you’ll find him, and you’ll find whatever cut off his signal
  3410. >”Dash? You’re bleeding.”
  3411. >You look down at the pain that you only just noticed; your right shoulder and wither are practically beaten to a pulp, the sharp splinters from that repeated bashing having dug themselves deep into your flesh
  3412. >A great brown welt has already begun to form around the reddest spots, and bright blood trickles down your foreleg onto the floor
  3413. >Tufts of your fur and feathers are scattered around you too, evidence of the sheer force you’d been staking against that door, designed to keep the toughest intruders out
  3414. >”Can you walk?”
  3415. “I can fly. Let’s go.”
  3416. >The pain isn’t important; it doesn’t even exist if you don’t concentrate on it
  3417. >It’s a byproduct of weakness, and you have never been weak
  3418. >Your wings still intact, you lift off and careen across the antechamber, through the pillar-flanked portal at the back end of the room and into an ornamented passage
  3419. >Banners of the Trust and the Gorgonian spiral flutter from the breeze you create on entry, their height dwarfing you in this long curving corridor
  3420. >The Trust… where are the Exsilists now, you wonder?
  3421. >You know Hurricane was planning to cut them away when the time was right; he told you as much
  3422. >But for right now, their whole non-involvement policy beyond the sale of nuclears has been entirely one-sided in its benefits
  3423. >They could be here with a contingent, aiding you in the fighting to come
  3424. >They could’ve invested in the survival of this great nation, which was only just beginning to flourish, and now…
  3425. >If the Canterians have taken control of the networks, electricity, and comms, they’re halfway to taking the city
  3426. >Taking the state
  3427. >What will the Trust be then?
  3428. >Where’s the loyalty?
  3429. >At least there’s one Exsilist you can almost trust, but…
  3430. >Come to think of it, where is Time Turner now?
  3431. >His safety was supposed to be your top priority, and they separated you from him when you arrived at Militarbezirk!
  3432. >You’ve got to… no, Rainbow
  3433. >Find Hurricane, then find Time Turner; one thing before the other
  3434. >The banners and windows and carpets and portraits race past you, all blurring together into one big colorful mess
  3435. >Has this place always been so gigantic inside?
  3436. >You round a corner, and find that despite all this exploration, you still haven’t found a single pegasus in the whole capitol building
  3437. >Where’s everypony gone? Was Hurricane evacuated to some safe chamber of which even you aren’t aware?
  3438. >You hope that’s the case, you really do
  3439. >The whole place is flat deserted; landing at a junction you scan your surroundings, seeing only Lightning following swiftly behind
  3440. >She touches down next to you, looking uncharacteristically nervous
  3441. >Sweat is cascading from her spiked mane, and her eyes are darting here and there
  3442. >You know she must be just as worried as you about all this, but her nerves are all fried where yours are collected, focused
  3443. >”Should we contact the rest of the Wunderbolts?”
  3444. “No. Much as I’d like them backing us on this, their place is their assignment. They could already be in Highstorm, and once we find Hurricane we join them there.”
  3445. >”And if we don’t find him?”
  3446. >You can feel your face going scarlet, and you turn away to continue flying forward
  3447. “Why do you even think that’s a possibility?”
  3448. >”It’s… I don’t know. But Hurricane probably evacuated by now. We shouldn’t be here, Dash. You shouldn’t be here. You should be out there, leading your team against whatever’s coming. There could be fighting at the gates already, for all we know. An aerial bombardment. We don’t know!”
  3449. “Hurricane is here. He’s here! End of discussion.”
  3450. >”Rainbow, I…”
  3451. >You whip around to face Lightning, who’s adopted that same nervous look again
  3452. >She’s keeping something from you; you know that look like you know your own reflection in the mirror
  3453. >You’re alone in this deserted hallway, normally packed with bureaucrats, commanders, security guards
  3454. >If there was a large scale evacuation… how could it have happened so quickly?
  3455. >Ten minutes ago, Hurricane was entirely unconcerned… none of this makes any sense at all
  3456. >What is Lightning… WHY is Lightning…
  3457. >Why is she looking at you that way?
  3458. >What does she…
  3459. >You stop
  3460. >Stop thinking, stop moving, stop breathing
  3461. >Then, as you regain control of your muscles, you back away slowly, limping against the damaged hoof, rising with fluttering wings, all the while maintaining eye contact with your friend
  3462. >Your breathing is jagged, your mind is racing, nothing makes sense and yet everything, EVERYTHING…
  3463. >”Rainbow, we should go back now. We should go back.”
  3464. “Where… is… everypony? Where are they, Lightning?”
  3465. >”I-I don’t know about that, Rainbow. But we have to—”
  3466. “Where. Is. Everypony?”
  3467. >”They m-must have evacuated, when the broadcasts got interfered wi—”
  3468. “That only happened a few minutes ago. A building like this would still be packed with ponies streaming out, especially with the security implications. If that broadcast outside, the face of that Gorgons-damned Chancellor, was the first sign of anything, this place wouldn’t be deserted by now. There was a sign before, Lightning. What did they know before us?”
  3469. >”Rainbow…”
  3470. “WHAT?!”
  3471. >You dash towards Lightning, halting inches from her muzzle, terror in your mind, your hooves shaking beneath you
  3472. >You want to put on an air of intimidation, but inside you’re like a little filly, a nervous wreck
  3473. >This can’t really be true, it can’t… but…
  3474. “Why are you so dead-set on leaving, Lightning? What happened here? What’s about to happen?”
  3475. >Lightning’s nerves are on fire, too; she’s sweating buckets, her hooves are trembling same as yours, her wings are contorted bizarrely against her figure as if she can’t find a comfortable position for them
  3476. >She recoils from your gaze, she’s looking anywhere and everywhere but right back at you, she knows something you don’t…
  3477. >You don’t want the obvious to be true, but you can’t… you can’t think of any other explanation
  3478. >That your subordinate might know more than you, that she might…
  3479. >Might be…
  3480. >”Th-there was a control test before. Short range. In a few minutes it’s h-happening again. We have to leave, Rainbow, we have to—”
  3481. “Control test of WHAT?! Where is my father, Lightning?! WHERE IS HE?!”
  3482. >”Especially you… especially you especially you especially… keep you safe you have to go WE have to go we have to leave now now NOW!”
  3483. >And then, in an instant, your worst fears are all but confirmed
  3484. >Lightning’s sharp gaze locks onto you, and her forehoof shoots out to sweep under your own
  3485. >Without your full mobility to counter the attack, you find yourself laid out flat on the tiled floor, your face smacking against that cool surface, your body reacting in every way it can
  3486. >You remember the training, all those sessions with Lightning; you don’t want to hurt her, you don’t know the full extent of this, but…
  3487. >You’re allowed to go all out, just this once
  3488. “GRAHHHH!”
  3489. >You rip yourself from your prone position and bounce off the ground into a hover, shifting your weight with your front to lay into an aerial roll
  3490. >All your momentum transfers into a powerful spin that drives the top of your head straight into Lightning’s barrel above you, and she grunts as your weight meets hers
  3491. >You kick and scratch mid-air with your hooves and wingtips, hoping to simply disable Lightning long enough to get to Hurricane’s offices
  3492. >If you can get there without Lightning stopping you, you can find a clue, something, ANYTHING
  3493. >Your heart pounds a hole in your chest as you launch upward with Lightning in tow, scraping against the marble wall as she tries to release herself from your grip
  3494. >She’s pulling her punches, too; that much is obvious
  3495. >Your hooves slipping against her sweat-matted coat, you finally manage to get a solid hold on her shoulders, and whip your body sideways to throw her a fair distance across the length of the hallway
  3496. >Lightning smashes down to the floor, unable to swing into a hover in time
  3497. >She leaps quickly into a fighting stance, but by the looks of the way she moves she may have sprained her wing on the fall
  3498. >No safety mats in here, sister
  3499. >”R-Rainbow, please… this isn’t necessary… we just have to go now, your f-father isn’t here…”
  3500. “You’re lying! He’s in his offices, or a safe chamber, o-or something! But that’s besides the point, Lightning! You can’t be… you can’t be the one he told me about…”
  3501. >”Guh…”
  3502. >Before she can answer, Lightning stumbles and falls again, clearly more hurt than either of you thought from that impact
  3503. >She touches down on her stomach, and you can see blood is pooling from the base of her wing
  3504. >”I think I… guh… you need to go now, Rainbow… you need to go far away… back to… M-Militarbezirk…”
  3505. >She’s breathing heavily and crawling towards the wall to slump herself against it
  3506. >Seems like she just got the wind kicked out of her, mostly
  3507. >You can come back to her later, figure out what’s going on, but right now…
  3508. “Dad.”
  3509. >You have so many questions for Lightning, but your priority is finding your dad in this mess
  3510. >Yes, your dad, not General Hurricane, not that ideal, not anything but your father in danger, your family in danger
  3511. >Your mother in…
  3512. (In the clouds)
  3513. (The storm came)
  3514. (The worst storm of the winter)
  3515. (And he wasn’t there)
  3516. (Wasn’t there, was far away, far, far away at war)
  3517. (You saw her rise)
  3518. (Then fall)
  3519. (You never saw her land)
  3520. (Never saw)
  3521. (The white sunset)
  3522. “GGGGGGGGGGRRRAAAHNOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
  3523. >You’re flying again, flying through empty halls, empty minds, empty everything
  3524. >The rumbling begins again, the earthquake in the air, though it’s far less distant now; it’s right under you, it’s in the air around you, whipping by you
  3525. >Sometimes you think you catch a glimpse of another pegasus in your periphery, but when you look they’re gone
  3526. >The high passes of this place, designed for flying, enable you to keep far off the beaten path, up through colonnades and balustrades and arched passes far off the ground
  3527. >Through every path you never recalled, you’ve never been in this part of the building
  3528. >You’re lost, then found, then lost again
  3529. >These spaces never seemed so great, and those spaces never seemed so small
  3530. >But it’s all in your head, you know that, if you can just get your bearings and find that hallway again, the one you’re looking for, the one in such a small, humble place
  3531. >If you can find those portraits, all lined up against one another, all staring down at ten year old you
  3532. >If you can find where your father began this regime, find those who want to end it, be loyal, be loyal
  3533. >If you can ensure the survival of the pegasi…
  3534. >It will take you right…
  3535. >Here
  3536. >You’re standing in it now, the hall outside your father’s cramped office, the hall with the simple carpet, the subtle skylights, deserted as the rest of them
  3537. >Outside, even through these stone walls, you can hear Chancellor Neighsay’s voice droning on over the loudspeakers in the square
  3538. >{”Peace… is freedom. Peace between nations. The separation of our peoples was a tragedy then, but we welcome gladly back into the fold those who were displaced from their Canterian homes, brought to this place against their will. This place, which promises utopia, free from the governance of ‘lower life-forms,’ as they would have you believe, is nothing less than fascistic. Dangerous, then, for all who fly below those who fly the highest. Perhaps they have told you it will be better one day. It will never be better. It will always be this way if there is no motivation to change.”}
  3539. >You quietly step towards the door marking the entrance to your father’s office, creeping along the wall as though hiding from some omnipresent force
  3540. >You’re afraid to move too quickly at this stage, in this place
  3541. >You’re afraid to reach that door, and see what’s behind it
  3542. >Probably just more emptiness, but…
  3543. >{”But as I have made perfectly clear, Canterium desires only peace. Our proud peoples cannot subsist on violence. We have taken every measure to prevent direct conflict, working through proxies, through policy, through espionage. But the PAS’ providing of armaments to the Cult of Exsilium in their grueling ongoing war against the Republic of Canterium is no longer something we might simply ignore in the grander state of affairs.”}
  3544. >Everything is moving in slow motion, especially yourself
  3545. >Your brain and heart have an unbreakable, single connection, feeding information to one another at light speed
  3546. >Everything else around you is immaterial, all this decorum; everything but the base elements has been pointless
  3547. >You know now more than ever that this is not the niche of pegasi, that you are a hunter, a flyer
  3548. >You touch the sky where others merely wonder and marvel at that power
  3549. >Nothing you’ve done has given you as much happiness as flying over the Palomino in those quiet days, resting on a dune in the twilight of a summer evening, knowing what it is to be a pony free from this…
  3550. >This world of Makers
  3551. >But even that was later, wasn’t it? After the fall…
  3552. (You should have tried to catch her)
  3553. (Your mother rose, then fell in the storm)
  3554. (If you were fast enough, you could have saved her)
  3555. (If she had lived, all of this might have been different)
  3556. >These thoughts aren’t yours, they can’t be yours, you never thought this way about that, and at a time like this…
  3557. >But perhaps if you had tried, if you had believed that you were the apex, not just thought it but BELIEVED it
  3558. >Even at four years old, could you have done it?
  3559. >Could you have caught her, and changed the course of your father’s life?
  3560. >Should you even be here now? Should you be chasing this dream, wanting to walk through that door, when really it isn’t what you want no you don’t want your dad, you want your mom, you want her, you want…
  3561. >Your family
  3562. >You want your family, at least what’s left of it
  3563. >Wherever these thoughts are coming from, they’re immaterial, they’re nothing
  3564. >They’re as fake as these walls, which you’re certain were different before
  3565. >They’re as fake as the walls in your mind, any conviction that isn’t your conviction to see your father’s dream out to the very end
  3566. >To help him…
  3567. >{”Simply know that loyalties can be changed. Loyalties to the bad elements of our world can be forgotten, even forgiven. But knowingly participating in such monstrosities against common decency, enabling your government to cooperate with the Cult by feeding into their cycle of death, this must be met with unflinching wrath.”}
  3568. >The door is there
  3569. >{”For I am not unkind.”}
  3570. >In front of you
  3571. >{”But if you want to be saved from the thing you have wrought…”}
  3572. >A million miles away
  3573. >{”You must remember…”}
  3574. >No, only a few meters
  3575. >{”That some loyalties…”}
  3576. >Closed, but always open to you
  3577. >{”Are best left…”}
  3578. >Always open…
  3579. >{”Abandoned.”}
  3580. >So you open it
  3581. >With a hard blow with the same bloody shoulder you already punished at the balcony, you push open that heavy slab
  3582. >As the door moves by inches, as time slows to a crawl, you see slivers of that familiar place within
  3583. >First, the far wall
  3584. >The papers scattered haphazardly across the carpet, even messier than usual
  3585. >The single window, alight with the sunset and the dimming yellow beacon in the faraway plains
  3586. >The desk
  3587. >The fan
  3588. >The light
  3589. >The unicorn
  3590. >The… the unicorn?
  3591. SHHHHKAAAA
  3592. >And then, everything’s sideways
  3593. >Everything’s bathed in crimson
  3594. >Everything hurts, even the parts of you that don’t exist
  3595. >Everything’s a fading memory, like the truth of the watch
  3596. >The truth you’re only just remembering, in these last moments of consciousness
  3597. >Because of it? In spite of it?
  3598. >But somehow you remember what was swept from your mind with intent to defend you from that knowledge…
  3599. >That Time Turner’s watch is no watch… the crystal within, the crimson vessel of time and space that called out to you
  3600. >It wants you
  3601. >You want it
  3602. >Time Turner wanted to give it to you
  3603. >He WANTED to give you that power
  3604. >And he erased that memory from your mind because he knew how it would change things, knew you weren’t ready for it
  3605. >And it’s too late now, too late, because the world is burning
  3606. >It’s only a second, only the slightest of instants before red turns to black and you’re out like a light, but…
  3607. >In that moment, you can see the fires outside, the fires rising beneath everything, especially their faces
  3608. >The faces in the room
  3609. >The faces of your father, the unicorn, several others, perceived as a single timeless image
  3610. >A snapshot of the worst moment of your life
  3611. >And then, you’re gone
  3612.  
  3613. ******
  3614.  
  3615. >It’s dark down here
  3616. >You guess you should’ve seen that coming, but what’s the point in guesses nowadays?
  3617. >When everything’s up in the air, all you can do is live moment to moment
  3618. >Your name is Soarin, and for the next thirty minutes or so you are acting commander of the Seventh Canterian Aerial Division
  3619. >Eighteen hundred hours came and went, everypony synced up, Spitfire went up and over with her psychic ghilly suit and left you in charge
  3620. >All you know for sure is that the unicorn supposedly running this op is off her saddle; there’s no way this was all part of the initial plan
  3621. >Adjustments were made, last minute adjustments, you KNOW that’s what went down because you know Spitfire
  3622. >And you KNOW that when you had that talk earlier today, she was telling the truth when she told you Thunder One would be dark on her until official first contact was established
  3623. >Something went wrong, something unplanned, and the whole ersatz “everypony do their own thing and it all works out” idea went out the window, because SOMEPONY realized that clear lines of communication are essential for something this big
  3624. >And whatever happened to make them realize that could very well be big trouble down the road for you and the rest of the poor shmucks still in the dark
  3625. >Which is exactly where you are: in the dark
  3626. >The terrible shadow of Pegasopolis hovers over you, projected onto the plains below, and if not for the silhouettes of your fellow flyers against the fading light in the west you wouldn’t be able to make out their positions at all
  3627. >You’re only a few hundred feet from the underside of that glossy black carapace, miles above the ground
  3628. >The cloaked Pod stopped sustaining its camouflage when it entered “city limits”, by which time everypony had geared up and prepared to drop in
  3629. >Well, not drop, exactly; more like jettison out and up into the cool haze of Pegasopolis’ emissions while the Pod doubled back and fell back down to earth, useless at this late stage
  3630. >The other Thunder teams inbound, all their tasks lined up and ready for them, you’re allowed to feel a little bit confident in the success of this mission
  3631. >If you’re dedicated to taking out one little Stormwing division like the Wunderbolts, you can’t imagine the force they’ve set aside to handle the rest of the general militia
  3632. >Perhaps this will all go over with less bloodshed than you pictured
  3633. >Or perhaps not, depending on how good a fool’s fight the PAS is willing to put up against you
  3634. >But with the cool wind whipping through your mane, tail, and coat, wind unheated by the sun in this sunless place, you’ve got no doubt that you can handle whatever this battle throws at you
  3635. >Is it raging already, up above? Have the other transports already deployed as yours did?
  3636. >The weird rumbling from up above indicates that something’s out of the ordinary, but it could easily be whatever field generator keeps the city aloft
  3637. >Back in the old days, pegasus cities just used clouds to float; but that was magic, and didn’t sit well with these new world order freaks
  3638. >You fix your goggles, which have begun to slip, and silently vow that when this is all over, you’re gonna help bring things back to the old ways
  3639. >The pegasi that made it out of those places when they were stolen by the PAS were forced to live on the ground from then on out, including so many you know
  3640. >It breaks your heart, and you know Spitfire feels the same way
  3641. >Hell, they all do…
  3642. >The rumbling continues, and you can only hope it’s a good sign
  3643. >You’re flying steady with the shadows of your teammates, and at this rate you’ll be meeting the Wunderbolts at Highstorm any minute now
  3644. >”Soarin, we—er, Captain-Lieutenant Soarin. We’re veering too far north. We need to maintain course.”
  3645. >You strain to hear the shouted voice of Silverwing over the wind rushing through your ears, not to mention the booming noises up above
  3646. >With comms down, shouting is about all you can do
  3647. “Pass it down the line, Silverwing! Pitch left ten degrees, away from the sun! Or, uh, what you can see of it.”
  3648. >”All I see is that damned fire in the sky from where our ship passed! The whole horizon’s obscured!”
  3649. “Just pass it down! We can’t afford to knock heads!”
  3650. >As Silverwing shouts in the other direction, you start to wonder about that strange “fire in the sky,” as he so put it
  3651. >It jettisoned up in the distance just before the op began proper, and exploded like a firework over the steppe
  3652. >If nothing else, it signaled your arrival, so you assumed it was either a PAS countermeasure that detected your cloaked hardware, or it was a deliberate signal by your allies
  3653. >Celestia knows you can’t tell the difference between hostile and allied maneuvers when everpony’s on different wavelengths
  3654. >Ahead of you, the inverted dome reaches its lowest point, the center of the main platform, dipping below the horizon like a black droplet about to fall, gravity at last overcoming surface tension
  3655. >You would like very much to see this city fall, but before that can happen you’ll have to know how it hangs in the air
  3656. >It’s not as though—
  3657. BWAAAAFOW
  3658. >”Flak! Flak!”
  3659. >You heed Silverwing’s shocked cry just in time, noting an array of long cannons sliding out of the underside of the city
  3660. >You’ve gotten much closer to the platform; they must have proximity triggers
  3661. >You knew this was too easy…
  3662. >Half a dozen guns swivel about and lock on to your comrades, wasting no time in beginning the staccato onslaught of bullet fire
  3663. >They’re auto-fire, which means they aren’t predictive; you use that to your advantage
  3664. >Everypony within sight, lithe silhouettes against the cloudy sky, immediately begin evasive maneuvers, and you unconsciously do the same
  3665. >The volley rings out in your head, but with a few loop-de-loops and a gradual descent you avoid the arcing trajectories easily
  3666. >For a moment, you’re afraid you’ll look down and see a comrade falling out of the sky, trailing blood from flak wounds, but when you do glance down you see no such thing
  3667. >Everypony’s prepared, everypony’s fast, and everypony’s elite enough to survive without guidance
  3668. >Hay, they saw the threat even before you did; maybe one of them should be acting captain instead!
  3669. >Once you’ve all reached a reasonably low altitude, the firing ceases, and the guns retract again
  3670. >You swerve left to brush shoulders with Silverwing, whose mohawk you can make out even in this darkness
  3671. “You saved my sorry ass back there! Wouldn’t have guessed they had proximity ordnance, considering everypony in this place can fly.”
  3672. >”Guess the general populace don’t come down here much.”
  3673. “Think they got restrictions for it?”
  3674. >”Who knows? We didn’t even know if these grav-waves or whatever would fry our brains, being directly under this hunk of junk. But we’ve managed, at least.”
  3675. “Either way, we stay low until we’re out of the shade. Then we double back into the port and catch them off guard.”
  3676. >”Affirmative. When we make it out of this—”
  3677. SHLIP
  3678. “Gh—”
  3679. >…
  3680. >Pain
  3681. >Pain all over
  3682. >White hot pain, it’s on your face and on your wings and—
  3683. >No, not pain
  3684. >Not pain…
  3685. >But it is hot, hot like spilt coffee
  3686. >Or like blood fresh from a vein
  3687. >And when the shock of that sensation’s over, when your mind catches up to your body, the image of what you just saw rams into you like a freight train
  3688. >Never has something happened so suddenly, so shockingly
  3689. >Never were you forced to react physically before mentally, never have your instincts…
  3690. >What are you thinking about?
  3691. >You should be screaming
  3692. >Yes, that’s the only solution now: to scream
  3693. “GGAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
  3694. >Your scream’s matched by that of Prism Glider, who catches his own weight just in time to keep from falling across from you
  3695. >He was on the other side of Silverwing, and now there’s no Silverwing between the two of you
  3696. >Prism grinds to a halt mid-air, his wings pounding against the flux of the air, wanting to look back but clearly too afraid to manage even that
  3697. >No Silverwing…
  3698. >You saw what happened to him, or at least you THINK you saw
  3699. >It happened in a nanosecond, it was barely perceptible, but you saw it
  3700. >Subliminally, it’s behind your mind, you just have to look there, to engage the trauma
  3701. >No Silverwing…
  3702. >He was speaking to you, flying next to you, and then…
  3703. >SHLIP
  3704. >The craziest thing you’ve ever witnessed
  3705. >A few seconds ago, you believe Lieutenant Silverwing was cleanly bisected down his entire length
  3706. >It started between his eyes, and ended between his hindlegs, and in that very nanosecond that you could hardly perceive, he was dead
  3707. >Deader than dead
  3708. >Even now his blood cools on your muzzle, your cheeks
  3709. >It was in such darkness that all you could see were shapes, but the shapes you saw were what you saw
  3710. >One Silverwing, then two half-Silverwings, then nothing
  3711. >And if you look down now, you know you’ll see two halves of a former whole falling like sacks of bleeding meat to the distant earth
  3712. “Celestia damnit! Celestia… son of a bucking donkey’s ass! What did that?! What did that, Prism?!”
  3713. >”You saw it too?!”
  3714. “YES, I SAW IT! I SAW HIM SPLIT IN TWO LIKE GODDAMN SLICED BREAD!”
  3715. >”Are we under attack?”
  3716. “WHAT THE HELL ELSE?!”
  3717. >You’re panicking, everything’s panic, everything is…
  3718. >Everything’s part of the job
  3719. >You prepare to call out at the top of your lungs, so everypony, no matter how far down the line, can hear you
  3720. “THUNDER NINE! FORM UP, NOW! BATTLE FORMATION, ON ME!”
  3721. >Your words carry deep into the void around you, bouncing off of Pegasopolis, off the bodies of those around you waiting and listening for your commands
  3722. >They flock to you, all these distant shadows, all hearing you but too anxious or focused to figure out why you’re saying what you’re saying
  3723. >And then, at the edge of this black canopy, at your final destination, more shapes appear
  3724. >Shapes like moths drawn to light and just as small, melting out of the upper rim and maintaining altitude
  3725. >Pegasi staring at you from a great distance, certainly seeing you, but making no attempt to approach you
  3726. >All your allies close in, all of the Seventh, all of what is now Thunder 9
  3727. >They are all gripping to you, huddled in something that could loosely be called a battle formation, all acutely aware of the loss just sustained but unable to comprehend it like you have
  3728. >”Captain-Lieutenant, is that…”
  3729. >Opposite your team and far above, wings flapping and filmy eyes gleaming subtly, are two dozen of THEM, the enemy
  3730. >THE enemy
  3731. “Wunderbolts.”
  3732. >They see you as you see them; and yet, you understand on some level, they did not kill Silverwing
  3733. >They were above, and now they’re below that edge, but they couldn’t have blasted him, or thrown anything, o-or…
  3734. >“They heard us scream. We’ve been made.”
  3735. >And so close to perfect, too…
  3736. >Captain Spitfire would be disappointed if she could see you now, but you’re already picturing her dead somewhere, dead as Silverwing, dead in this tangled hell that is Operation Thunderstruck
  3737. >At least, you think grimly, you’ll have fulfilled your purpose
  3738. >That, or died trying
  3739. “The daughter isn’t with them. Free to engage, Thunder Nine.”
  3740. >Wherever that daughter of Hurricane is right now, you suppose she’s very lucky
  3741. >Because if she were with those floating terrors on the horizon right now, not even the word of Spitfire would’ve kept you from revenging yourself on her with the rest of them
  3742. >Wunderbolts… now’s as good a time as any
  3743. >Your comrades rush forward in a fury, feeling the same rage that’s in you, minus the experience that catalyzed it
  3744. >Shadows battling shadows, but the Wunderbolts won’t meet you in the middle
  3745. >They’re content to stay where they are, outside the area directly beneath—
  3746. >No
  3747. >No, no, no, if that’s the secret…
  3748. “STOP! EVERYPONY STAY RIGHT WHERE THEY ARE!”
  3749. >As angry as you are, as ready as you are to engage them, tear their throats out, open fire and watch them bleed, they Wunderbolts didn’t do that to Silverwing
  3750. >The Wunderbolts are as afraid of the secret as you are, and perhaps the secret’s as well-kept from them as it has been from you
  3751. >But now your eyes are opened; now you see the final piece of that image you’re already starting to block out in your mind
  3752. >As Silverwing was cloven in two mid-air, there was a shimmer at the line of the cut, not through him but ABOVE him
  3753. >A shimmer like a thin wire, so thin it was impossible to make out in the dark, and perhaps in the light too
  3754. >Without the shimmer, it would be too thin to perceive, but this memory of a single moment in your life is so crystal-clear, and you know it will be for as long as you live
  3755. >It was no projectile that ended Silverwing’s life; no, it was a wire, thin as a silken strand, hanging from the underside of Pegasopolis
  3756. >No, not hanging; because that’s the truth, isn’t it?
  3757. >That’s the secret of the floating city, that it doesn’t float at all
  3758. >It sits atop supports, same as any other structure
  3759. >And those supports, those rigid wires, of which there must be many, hold up the heavens for these fascist Exsilist-allied murdering freaks
  3760. >What substance could be so strong?
  3761. >What secret metal could hold a whole city on a thread?
  3762.  
  3763. ******
  3764.  
  3765. >Your deepest seated fear, you understand now, is that you won’t be able to do enough again
  3766. >You didn’t do enough then, you won’t do enough when the time comes once more
  3767. >Even though you knew you were capable of it, even at that early age, you KNEW that it was possible to go beyond anything anypony else had ever done
  3768. >To race downwards and defy death to save her life…
  3769. >You’re back there again, as in your dreams
  3770. >You’re back in that place you thought had been lost to time
  3771. >You are Rainbow Dash, and you are four years old, watching the black clouds swirl around her
  3772. >All around you, Polis Cloudsdalia, a city that no longer exists, trembles with the wind
  3773. >The shadows of pegasi cross your face, shades of figures miles above you in the empty expanse, trying to quell the storm but failing utterly
  3774. >Some storms are too powerful to contain; that’s nature
  3775. >Your father is away; he is conquering nature elsewhere, bringing closer together the ponies he believes can change the world once united
  3776. >But here, in the place he’s left behind, a darkness nopony predicted closes in on all who dared to exist in its domain
  3777. >Thunder and lightning, electricity brimming in the sky, your mother aiding in the evacuation of the outer limits
  3778. >You, at the edge of the citadel, screaming for her to come back
  3779. >And when her shadow falls, when you SEE with your own eyes the shadow falling, and you can swear you hear your name leave her lips as she falls though she’s so far away and the storm is so loud…
  3780. >”Rainbow Dash…”
  3781. >You dare yourself to fly after her
  3782. >This isn’t a dream anymore, it feels more real than any other iteration
  3783. >No, it’s happening again, and this time you can change things, this time you can prove to yourself and all the rest that you were never worthless, that you ARE your father’s daughter
  3784. >No, but MORE than that, you are Rainbow Dash, you are faster than anypony else, and that THING you always knew you could do, deep in the back of your mind…
  3785. >The time to do it is now
  3786. >Your mother is falling into the storm, and the clock is ticking in your ears
  3787. >A crystal clock with a crimson face, somewhere on the edge of this reality
  3788. >You feel yourself launching forward even as you remain still
  3789. >You’re flying through space towards her while you tremble and sob
  3790. >You’re building speed as you’re immobilized by fear
  3791. >You’re going to reach her this time… the thunder won’t take her this time…
  3792. >You are standing still, hugging the pillar, watching her fall
  3793. >But some part of you is out there, breaking the speed of sound, catching her, saving her life
  3794. >You wanted to do that so badly, because you were the only one who could
  3795. >Not because it was proven that you could do it, not because anypony else had come before to MAKE it a possibility
  3796. >No, because it’s YOUR niche; it’s what you could have carved for yourself
  3797. >And it’s true, you know it’s true, because you’re hugging the pillar, and she’s falling into the darkness, and you’re all alone
  3798. >And that’s when the idea becomes manifest, and it’s carved into your very flank
  3799. >A spark in the twilight, and then an image, one you’ve taken as proof of the very thing you failed to do
  3800. >A lightning storm, cast in every color of the rainbow, embedded in your flesh forever
  3801. >You could have broken the sound barrier, but you didn’t
  3802. >And now it’s too late…
  3803. >Too late…
  3804. >…
  3805. >”But not for this, Captain Dash.”
  3806. >The voice surprises you; there’s never been a companion in these dreams
  3807. >It’s Time Turner’s voice
  3808. >It’s the voice of somepony you thought you could trust
  3809. >Before you saw him there, in…
  3810. >Where did you see him?
  3811. “Why did she fly into it? Why didn’t she come back when I called to her? I know she could have…”
  3812. >Time Turner approaches you from the edge of your vision, his face a hazy distortion, like looking in a clouded mirror
  3813. >His eyes, glowing in crimson constellations, look not at you, but at the brooding expanse beyond the edge of the citadel
  3814. >He sees what you see; he knows what you know
  3815. >”This is how your mother died.”
  3816. “And how I got this.”
  3817. >You gesture uselessly at the mark adorning your flank
  3818. “For nothing at all, it always seemed. I could’ve earned it by… by saving her. But I just sat here. I did nothing.”
  3819. >”You were a foal.”
  3820. >Your heart drops further into the pit you’ve dug for it
  3821. “It doesn’t matter. It could’ve been done. I KNOW it could’ve been done.”
  3822. >”Perhaps it was the intent that mattered.”
  3823. >The ambassador’s ghostly form lingers, morphing and melding into the clouds on the horizon, becoming as much a part of this dream as everything else
  3824. >It inspires a memory, one you didn’t think you’d unearth again
  3825. >Partly because it didn’t exist until just now, not since…
  3826. “You entered my mind before, didn’t you? Last night, you… you and I had a conversation. And then you erased that conversation. Poof. Gone.”
  3827. >”Captain Dash…”
  3828. >You stand up weakly, mildly surprised to find that you’ve regained your adult form, and look the apparition squarely in its sunset eyes
  3829. “How did you do that? Your watch? It’s… well, forget that. A better question is why you’re allowing me to remember it now.”
  3830. >”I am not allowing anything. Your mind is doing all the work.”
  3831. “If YOU… if you came from the Kabardian dynasty, if you’re still holding on to that artifact you told me about… and if that artifact is intended for me…”
  3832. >”Is a question I alone am not fully capable of answering. There’s no doubt in my mind that you are the successor to its power. But I am but one stallion, and my opinion is as much law as any other. The motivation to inherit the Element must be yours.”
  3833. “I don’t want to think about this right now. My father was in that room. With… with you. With YOU! And the… the…”
  3834. >”Unicorn?”
  3835. >As before, Time Turner’s aura seems to be detached even from the laws of perspective
  3836. >There’s no depth to his shape in the strictest sense, he seems to be both superimposed across your dreaming vision and cast far along its bounds, both gargantuan and miniscule
  3837. >He is everywhere
  3838. >Is he creating this place? Or is he just an aspect of what already existed here?
  3839. >He doesn’t know about this memory… nopony knows, nopony but you
  3840. >And certainly nopony knows about the Thing that you could’ve done to save your mother… what you KNEW you could do, intrinsically, even though you’d never tried
  3841. >Nevertheless, he’s here, he’s bearing down on you, he’s saying things only he could say, because you know him more than you could ever know anypony you’ve only known for a week
  3842. >You know him best through that crystal resting on his hoof, embedded there for what may as well have been forever when you first laid eyes upon it
  3843. >A piece of something so ancient you could never know its true name
  3844. >But the here and now, this… this betrayal…
  3845. >It isn’t him
  3846. >It could never have been him
  3847. >And yet…
  3848. “You need to tell me what you were doing in there. What Lightning Dust was doing. Why she attacked me. Why she… why my father was…”
  3849. >Time Turner shakes his head softly, dispersing the sunset clouds which have formed around it and compelling you to silence
  3850. >”Do you know the paradox of the arrow, Captain Dash?”
  3851. “I almost never know what you’re talking about.”
  3852. >”An arrow is fired from a ballista to strike a target at the end of a field. But before it may strike the target, it must first travel half the distance across the field. And before it may travel that distance, it must travel half that distance. Ad infinitum.”
  3853. “It should never hit the target, and yet it does. I’ve heard something like this before.”
  3854. >Streaks in the sky, like strokes of a painting never seen by the eyes of a living being
  3855. >”The arrow moves because the universe compels it to move. What we know of the mechanics of the world, from the Makers, from what we’ve taught ourselves… it’s functionally incomplete. These paradoxes of nature arise because there must be finite states with infinite possibilities.”
  3856. “You lost me again.”
  3857. >”The object of that idea of the arrow, Captain Dash, is not to find an answer to the paradox. It isn’t necessary to fully understand the how. Sometimes, things are set in motion because it is necessary for them to move.”
  3858. >The great mass of starlit nimbus takes on an expression of desperation, but behind it all there’s obvious intent
  3859. >As though he needs something from you, but doesn’t know how to get it
  3860. >”None of this matters anymore. The Beast is almost come. I’m certain of it now. Only the Elements, this one and its sisters… but if you need to trust me for all this to work… and I suppose you do, don’t you? You need to trust me. When you open your eyes again, this will once again be nothing more than a dream.”
  3861. “You’re going to erase my memory again. Perfect.”
  3862. >Another shake of the head, and it’s only now that you realize that the Time Turner you see before you in this expansive fragment of memory is not the half-mechanical thing you’ve come to know
  3863. >He’s whole again; his eyes, full of stars, are real; his tail is hair, thin and wispy; his flank, rich mocha coat over true flesh, bears the image of an hourglass
  3864. >Sand falling piece by piece, irreversible…
  3865. >”I would like nothing more than for you to remember every word that has been said here. But this IS still technically a dream, Captain Dash. And dreams are fleeting, no matter how much truth they might bear. But if you take anything with you into the real world, take this: you must trust me, no matter what. And this is key: you must behave as though you don’t. Each action you take must be that of a deeply betrayed individual. Your performance must be stellar.”
  3866. “I’m not an actor.”
  3867. >”You’ll have to learn quickly. You have a captive audience to entertain. Now, bid me adieu, Captain Dash. Who knows how long it’ll be before we speak to one another as friends again…”
  3868.  
  3869. ******
  3870.  
  3871. >Fade from black, enter stage right
  3872. >The star of the show: Captain Rainbow Dash of the Wunderbolts Stormwing W-Division, daughter of the head-honcho himself
  3873. >Useless
  3874. >Loyal to the end
  3875. >A battered wing and a throbbing skull
  3876. >Nevertheless, you pull yourself across what feels like a rough, dusty carpet
  3877. >Your eyes won’t stay open, and everything’s shades of blue and brown
  3878. >And then, from the darkness, a voice
  3879. >A voice in a language you feel you could never understand
  3880. >Not just because it is foreign, but because it is an abomination
  3881. >An old language, severed entirely from any modern tongue which, by untold generations, ought to have of steadily homed in on the logical, normalized intonations of what a voice SHOULD sound like
  3882. >Because this… this sounds like death
  3883. >”Xxyllyn kkavak ghahimnoallla olos kamm’gaaddaaa. Xxerros xxaulluois kal’qatos. Lahiim godlos’lakk mahhhhhaousiraqaos lyxlynts chok’tau…”
  3884. >Followed by a guttural sound you couldn’t transcribe if you tried
  3885. >And yet the voice itself is that of a mare, no doubt about it
  3886. >Which makes you just a little bit less afraid of making your presence known with a groan of abject pain
  3887. “Guhk.”
  3888. >The droning witch-speak continues, though tension grips the air as the ambient chatter you only noticed now dies down
  3889. >At least four distinct voices, separate from that vile cacophony…
  3890. >”She’s awake.”
  3891. >”Breathing, anyways. You’ll be damn lucky if that bash didn’t give her brain damage.”
  3892. >”…dog water. Absolute unabashed dog water. No, no, the wiring’s fine, the design’s intuitive. But the upkeep… not to mention the abuse…”
  3893. >”I wasn’t t-trying to…”
  3894. >”Shut it. You only have clemency here because of what you’ve done for us so far. You realize what your little stunt could’ve done? You could’ve jeopardized everything, you arrogant little runt.”
  3895. >”…any wonder that the device is malfunctioning? It’d scarcely be stable if it was an ordinary practitioner, but somepony like THIS? If they’d told me Thunder One was a unicorn of this potency, I’d have paid more attention to the lettering on the tin…”
  3896. >”Will somepony get her off the floor, at least? Not like she can reasonably consent to anything we ask her with a concussion.”
  3897. >”I-I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry, Rainbow… so sorry…”
  3898. >“…damnable designer shoulda come down here himself. Can the Exsilist help, at least?”
  3899. >”What on earth do you imagine I’d know about technology like that? Frankly, Corporal, I’m shocked you’re allowing me to see it in action at all, considering our nations’ bitter rivalries.”
  3900. >”Would you quit your whining? If I’d known you’d have such a complex over all of this, I wouldn’t have come up here to ensure your extraction. And as for that, ‘Ambassador,’ you’d best be thankful you aren’t impounded right now. You’re here because Thunder One vouches for you. Why, I couldn’t possibly say.”
  3901. >”…whatever you donkeys decide, just get the hell out of my way. I’m trying to keep this blue bitch’s head from exploding right now.”
  3902. >Did he just say…
  3903. >Did he just call you…
  3904. >You’re almost too dizzy to be enraged; almost
  3905. >And everything’s still dark, though soft blotches of color have begun to daub your eyes’ canvas bright again
  3906. >Blotches in the shapes of ponies moving swiftly here and there, confined in a tight space
  3907. >A space the shape and size of your father’s little office
  3908. >Still here, still breathing
  3909. >Suddenly, a sharp flash of pain jabs its way up from the wound in your right wing into the base of your spine, evoking another, louder groan
  3910. >The rapid conversation, however, continues on as though you hadn’t made any noise at all
  3911. >The feminine chanting too, though you notice it’s growing more staccato, more uncertain
  3912. >”Kazahhhkal ma’at godan. Chok’soau xxylyyexny’e ba… kallan xxet xxyntyys bokkai bagaa… n… netteaouxx… kan… gah… can’t… slow it down…”
  3913. >You only notice the low, static hum filling the room as it steadily decreases in volume, until it disappears entirely
  3914. >”I’m getting it. You look fifty years older, by the way.”
  3915. >”Gakkh… it’ll wear off. Need rest…”
  3916. >The pain you felt, your inner ear just now realizes, was the feeling of being violently hoisted from your prone position on the floor and into a hardback wood chair
  3917. >You force yourself to blink several times, hoping to turn these floating blurs into visuals you can understand
  3918. >And it succeeds partly; you’re facing the wall opposite to your father’s desk, and a silhouette you know all too well is staring right back at you from a seated position
  3919. >It’s somepony who, despite all evidence stacked against him now, you feel you must trust if you’re going to make it out of this alive
  3920. >Why you feel that way… well, you can barely remember your own name right now without concentrating, much less something like that
  3921. >”Captain Dash? Can you hear me?”
  3922. >”Give her time, Ambassador. She’ll come to soon enough.”
  3923. >”She’s already come. I can tell.”
  3924. “Tell…”
  3925. >”There she is. How is your head feeling, Captain Dash?”
  3926. “Tell… me… why…”
  3927. >You squint as tightly as you can, just able to make out Time Turner’s inequine artificial eyes gyrating within their sockets, flitting from your face to the rest of the room and back again
  3928. >”Why? I… oh. Yes, of course. Why.”
  3929. >Time Turner breathes deeply, then stands to contemplate
  3930. >You look to your left in an attempt to locate the source of the second voice, the one seemingly running the show
  3931. >When you find it, a lean and muscular orange-coated pegasus mare dressed like a Canterian officer, you also catch a glimpse of the pony you want to see the least right now
  3932. >Lightning Dust, wings folded meekly by her flanks, is huddled in the far corner of the room, practically embedded in stacks of redundant papers
  3933. >She returns your glance only for a moment, then avoids it like a plague
  3934. >If you could move right now, you’d… wait a minute, why CAN’T you move?
  3935. >You groggily try to lift a hoof, only to meet the resistance of a hard strap
  3936. >You were fastened to this chair and you didn’t even realize it… maybe you really aren’t all there yet…
  3937. >Nevertheless, you glance over your right shoulder to get a full sweep of the place, and two more unfamiliar ponies catch your eye
  3938. >One, a Canterian to be sure, is hunched over a chrome-plated spheroid attached by suction plugs to the head of the other pony, seemingly trying to adjust its properties
  3939. >As he turns a dial back and forth, you could almost swear the figures change their visibility
  3940. >As if they’re some kind of projection themselves, they flicker imperceptibly, though it isn’t quite as simple as some kind of malfunctioning hologram
  3941. >They’re THERE, you know they’re there, but somehow your brain is refusing to see them fully
  3942. >Or being prevented from doing so…
  3943. >The pony wearing the oversized helmet is a blue mare, her coat similar in shade to your own, a bun of white mane tucked loosely beneath the dome’s cap and shimmering with sweat, her face young but full of immense strain
  3944. >She is the unicorn you laid eyes upon when you dashed in here up in arms, but you don’t remember seeing her wearing this apparatus on her head
  3945. >Was it partially hidden from you just as they are now?
  3946. >Blue bitch… maybe that voice wasn’t referring to you, after all
  3947. >”Trixie simply needs… a moment… just a moment… Trixie can’t leave the no-ships without a coordinator…”
  3948. >”The residual effect of the last cycle is still there. It should easily propagate long enough for you to take a breather. Just don’t take too long.”
  3949. >The unicorn casts a wicked eye in the direction of the Canterian engineer, the lines of her face tightening and narrowing, her youth becoming more and more apparent with each passing second
  3950. >”’Blue bitch?’ You think Trixie can’t hear you in there? Trixie may be tonguing the Incantations, but within Pericles Trixie sees and hears everything. Including your crude vocabulary.”
  3951. >The engineer merely shrugs and produces a small instrument the size and shape of a pen from the pocket of his jacket, waving it back and forth in front of the unicorn’s face
  3952. >The unicorn, Trixie by the sound of it, reluctantly follows its motion with her eyes, clearly straining to concentrate while the engineer speaks back
  3953. >”You’re pushing the specs too hard. The regulation module doesn’t account for a flux of that magnitude. Not to mention there’s only so much it can do to MEASURE what you’re doing, so you’re probably taking it even higher than I can read. We’re trying to control and suppress. Not blow the whole city out of the sky.”
  3954. >”Trixie doesn’t…”
  3955. >Suddenly, the orange officer starts across the room and glares at the haughty unicorn
  3956. >”’Trixie’ doesn’t know anything about this device, judging by the lopsided conversation I’ve been hearing between you two. Only this stallion does. So let him do his job.”
  3957. >With her wandering eyes, appearing as though they can barely focus from exertion, the unicorn stares right back at the officer, gritting her teeth
  3958. >”Captain Spitfire, is it? You seem to be forgetting that Trixie is designation Thunder One in this operation. You and your operatives are a measly Thunder Nine. I could see all of them just now, within Pericles. Do you know that they are currently engaged with the Wunderbolts, and that one of them is already dead?”
  3959. >The officer’s composure falters slightly, her muzzle twitching in an almost imperceptible pang of grief
  3960. >”You may be de-facto marshal just because you can see through that dome, but don’t pretend you’re in ANY position to lord over me with no military designation whatsoever. You’re a civilian brought on to serve your nation on a temporary basis. Don’t forget that.”
  3961. >As the two mares argue, you note that nopony is directly watching you; not even Time Turner, who’s taken to flipping idly through sensitive documents with the tip of his prehensile tail
  3962. >If you could somehow slip these restraints, you might just have a chance of making a break for the door before anypony caught wise
  3963. >But… even then, your wing’s bent and your head is pounding; you don’t think you could even walk straight right now, much less fly
  3964. >Think of another way, Rainbow… and these emotions welling up inside you, this hurting on all fronts… don’t let it distract you from what’s important
  3965. >Remember your training… remember what Hurricane…
  3966. “Where… is… my father?”
  3967. >It came out as a whisper, and probably not nearly as coherent as it sounded in your head, but the bickering stops for a moment as all heads turn towards you
  3968. >All but one, that is
  3969. “Where… is… Hurricane?”
  3970. >Time Turner, without looking up from his stack of notes, his face statuesque and unmoving, answers first in a decisive tone
  3971. >”Taken away already, I’m afraid. My prize for cooperation, yes? Captain Spitfire?”
  3972. >The pegasus officer merely grunts as her face contorts in distaste
  3973. >”We’ll see about that. Thunder One insists that the Chancellor vouches for you, but you were never mentioned in any briefing. And the word of a single ambassador doesn’t guarantee that your Empress will go along with things.”
  3974. >Time Turner smiles, and a knife twists in your heart as you realize he used that same smile on you countless times
  3975. >Despite his appearance, it really is so disarming to the senses
  3976. >”I assure you that my will is the will of the Highmind Empress. The Cult of Exsilium has, shall we say, not been getting on well with the PAS for some time now. Hurricane and his High Command have been making far too many demands for such a fledgling ally, and their only real value to our war effort has been their steady supply of additional nuclear armaments.”
  3977. >”You realize, of course, that we won’t allow you to take the extant nuclears with you.”
  3978. >”Of course. That was never part of the arrangement. This is a clear Canterian victory, nopony else’s. But know that this invasion is common ground over which we might negotiate. If Hurricane is ushered safely into the custody of the Cult, we promise you the remainder of the spoils, as well as your… ahem… future plans for governance.”
  3979. >His eyes flit to you, focusing with steely precision before returning to the pages
  3980. >”And what then? If your Empress’ plan is to install a government-in-exile in New Exsilia, then you must seriously underestimate my intelligence, as well as the Chancellor’s.”
  3981. >”Trixie already told you.”
  3982. >The unicorn nudges her engineer’s hoof away as he attempts to finish what appears to be a calibration exercise, and turns her head as far as she can to regard Captain Spitfire
  3983. >”Trixie was able to establish a psychic link with Chancellor Neighsay several hours ago. His energy was weak over such distance, and of course he does not have access to Pericles as Trixie has. But he stipulated that the Exilist ambassador was an asset and to be trusted. Even if he IS an abomination…”
  3984. >”Ahhhh. You’re a Unicronian, aren’t you, my dear? Rest assured that the current dismal state of your city is not my doing.”
  3985. >”Your Empress is a vile, cruel harbinger of senseless destruction! And your mere affiliation with her is enough to boil Trixie’s blood. But if the Chancellor wants you alive…”
  3986. >Time Turner’s tail whips around and halts midair, swaying like a cobra as it “looks” into Trixie’s half-disgusted, half-fearful eyes
  3987. >”Your anger is justified. I can only imagine what disdain you must have for me and my fellow Exsilists for the ongoing destruction of your city. But I’m acting in the interest of peace, more-so than anypony else in this room. If our terms are resolved, we may at last reach an end to this needless conflict.”
  3988. >Spitfire flutters up and over Time Turner’s elongated claw-tail, landing firmly in front of you
  3989. >”That’s not for us to decide here. And it depends on what happens with her.”
  3990. >She’s talking about you
  3991. >YOU
  3992. >And you won’t be talked about lightly, not among these… these…
  3993. “Traitors.”
  3994. >”Hm?”
  3995. >You lunge violently towards Time Turner’s hunched form, careful to restrain yourself just enough so that you don’t tip your seat and fall flat on your face
  3996. “TRAITORS! Both of you! You and that sobbing waste of a uniform over there!”
  3997. >You bare your teeth at Lightning Dust, who still refuses to meet your gaze
  3998. >An uncomfortable silence lingers in this cramped space, but you don’t care
  3999. >You don’t even know if you’re feigning this anger or not anymore
  4000. >Time Turner… could it have just been a dream?
  4001. >Could he really have sold you out?
  4002. “You I understand, you sniveling crony. You come to me, you pretend to confide in me about a threat to Hurricane, when you were the threat all along! All those times I had bad feelings about you, I should have just trusted myself! But you, Lightning? How did they get to you? How did they make you do this? It had to have been something! O-or you’re playing some trick even I don’t know about, in which case how GODDAMN dare you?”
  4003. >She doesn’t answer
  4004. >She really, REALLY doesn’t answer
  4005. >This mare, this comrade you’ve known half your life
  4006. >She doesn’t say a word
  4007. “ANSWER ME! You traitor! Gorgons damn you, you were in this the whole time and you never once said anything! You could have stopped it! If you had a conscience of any kind, if they’d gotten to you, then you could’ve just told them to screw off! But you wanted it, didn’t you? You WANTED this to happen! What’s going on out there right now? What’s happening to our city?!”
  4008. >”Trixie can answer that.”
  4009. >The blue unicorn, now looking more rejuvenated than ever, grins smugly at you from a sideways glance
  4010. >You’ve known this land-dweller for five minutes and you want to murder her with your bare hooves
  4011. >”Operation Thunderstruck is well underway. The division and containment of the key strongholds of Pegasopolis is just beginning, but Trixie is confident it will be done before midnight. The no-ships are neutralizing potential threats before they can fully prepare for arrival.”
  4012. >No-ships?
  4013. >What is she talking about?
  4014. >”Hmm. Trixie knows you must be very confused, daughter of Hurricane.”
  4015. >The unicorn raps lightly on the surface of the chrome half-egg atop her head
  4016. >”This ‘Pericles’ device enables Trixie to polarize her magical energy. It acts as a conduit for Trixie’s own latent aura and effectively amplifies its potential beyond anything previously thought possible. Trixie can see the neurons in your mind, the propulsion currents of a fleet of aerial transports miles from here. Trixie can perform feats of illusion rivaled only by the greatest magicians in history.”
  4017. >”Trixie can also be quite talkative.”
  4018. >Time Turner interjects into the unicorn’s diatribe, evoking a menacing tremble from the latter
  4019. >”As I’ve come to understand it, this device the Canterians have constructed siphons the full potential of a unicorn’s spirit energy and uses it to engineer marvels. You didn’t think you were truly alone in those hallways outside, did you, Captain Dash? The evacuation of the building was well underway as you made your way towards your father’s office.”
  4020. “Th…that’s impossible. We were moving… we were walking and flying for so long… never met anypony…”
  4021. >”You saw what the Great and Powerful Trixie wished you to see, daughter of Hurricane.”
  4022. >”Of course, nopony else could see you or Lightning Dust, either. Mutually hidden. A remarkably dangerous ability, if exploited properly. The Cult would never stoop to using that most blasphemous of affronts to the Living Machine, the magic, to our advantage, but… perhaps with the proper recombinants of Maker techniques, we could replicate…”
  4023. >”You’ll replicate nothing. You’ve already sworn not to divulge anything you’ve witnessed in this room, Ambassador. On threat of immediate punitive action by our most assiduous operatives.”
  4024. >Captain Spitfire, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of control over this carnival of competing interests, splits her hard attention between you and Time Turner
  4025. >She seems to consider both of you equal in threat…
  4026. “Captain… Spitfire… you were the one at the border. You were the one we were told about.”
  4027. >”Huh. They even got my name right. Go figure. Yes, that was me. My team was tasked with feigning a straightforward advance from the south. It had to look properly convincing, so I added a bit of espionage flair to the mix. THIS one gave no more explicit instructions, and improvisation isn’t exactly my strong suit, so don’t judge my performance too harshly.”
  4028. >Your wing still pulsing with dull pain, you search for some distraction to ignore it, finally settling on Lightning Dust again
  4029. >The Canterian, Spitfire, seems to notice
  4030. >”Thunder One, I’m submitting to your… ugh… authority here, as well as the Chancellor’s, in determining just what in the hell we’re going to do with the informant after all this is done.”
  4031. >Trixie nods carefully, and smirks when the word “authority” leaves Spitfire’s disgruntled lips
  4032. >”She’s done her job, hasn’t she? Despite some key moments of hesitancy. You DID understand, didn’t you, pegasus?”
  4033. >She’s addressing Lightning Dust, who finally looks up, apparently more confident in the act of looking this Unicronian witch in the eye than her own best friend
  4034. >But those eyes… they’re stained in the deepest red of bloodshot, streaks of tears matting down the fur all over her face
  4035. >”You understood that Trixie could have targeted you directly at any moment of your little act of rebellion? It may have cost Trixie the illusion spell she spent so much time preparing, but it would have been worth it had Captain Rainbow Dash not simply come of her own volition after besting you. Trixie could have done some most wretched things to you for that…”
  4036. >Spitfire interjects, moving steadily closer to Lightning Dust
  4037. >”She’s right. What you did out there could have jeopardized everything. Your little deal could’ve been nixed right then and there. You’re lucky some ponies in this room keep their word.”
  4038. >”She didn’t deserve… nopony deserves this…”
  4039. >”It was YOUR idea! Your OI handler told me as much! Lightning Dust flips when she was compromised on Canterian recon, and that was that! You were signed up for the whole shebang, not just a part of it. You’ve managed to make everypony in this room want to wring your little neck. Your friend over there most of all, I’d imagine.”
  4040. >Outside the window behind you, a low, dark rumble penetrates the room, followed by the floor vibrating enough to dishevel Time Turner’s stack of documents
  4041. >The noise is followed by several aftershocks, each lasting just as long if not longer
  4042. >These crude rope straps around your fetlocks are beginning to chafe… if you were in better condition, you KNOW you could slip them
  4043. >Whatever’s happening out there, you should be a part of it
  4044. >You should be defending this city your father built, rather than submitting to these traitors and honorless Canterians
  4045. >Precisely then, the afternoon bell in the square tolls a solemn tone
  4046. >One stroke…
  4047. >Lightning Dust’s remorseful face is crossed with bubbling rage, and though she looked like a ragdoll devoid of energy when you first came to, she seems to find the strength to stand up and face down Spitfire
  4048. >”My ‘handler’ gave me no choice in the matter, you smug little coward! It’s such a CRIME not to want Rainbow involved? To get her out of the city before you could string her up and play puppets?”
  4049. >”When national security is at stake, yes. Now shut up or get lost. Thunder One, you mentioned that Thunder Three was something like Value Acquisitions? Maybe you should contact one of them to come up here and escort this traitor off the premises before she does any more damage to our efforts.”
  4050. >Two strokes…
  4051. >”It hardly makes a difference to Trixie what happens with the informant. But under no circumstances is Trixie to divulge the location or intent of this meeting to any Thunder operations team other than you, Captain Spitfire. The Chancellor must trust you to some degree, having you act as a splinter from your initial assignment to interface with Trixie here.”
  4052. >”I don’t imagine that trust has rubbed off on you much, though.”
  4053. >”Trixie’s prime directive is to keep the teams as far away from one another as they are from the danger of the enemy. With Pericles, coordination is trivial, which makes accountability for this endeavor…”
  4054. “Nonexistent.”
  4055. >Three strokes…
  4056. >Trixie regards you with a self-satisfied giggle, even managing to take a few careful steps in your direction to the apparent dismay of her jumpsuit-clad engineer
  4057. >”That’s strain! Physical strain is counterproductive! You’re just trying to make my job more difficult, aren’t you?”
  4058. >”Trixie believes she can manage a few steps, thank you very much. Even with this chrome bubble as a crown. Now, daughter of Hurricane, you were saying?”
  4059. >Four strokes…
  4060. >Something wet, either saliva or blood or a mixture of both, dribbles down your lip and falls, landing inaudibly on top of your bound cannon
  4061. >Wait… if only…
  4062. “This whole ‘grand plan’ of yours is nothing but cheating, isn’t it? Cheating the rules of war that Canterium wrote. This isn’t anything noble. Everypony involved is hiding, most of all you, because if the truth of this got out then there would be an international incident.”
  4063. >Trixie continues to grin, though Spitfire behind her maintains a look of grim assurance even as her eyes dart back and forth between you, Time Turner, and Lightning Dust
  4064. >As though she’s the self-appointed warden of this whole party of scoundrels, and you’re somehow the guiltiest of them all
  4065. >Five strokes…
  4066. “Which means one of two things. Either your Chancellor’s worried about what your precious allies across the eastern sea would think, which is unlikely. Saddle Arabia’s not exactly known for adhering to the just and righteous method of warfare, so I’m sure they’d be quick to forgive.”
  4067. >You feign a cough and double over yourself, releasing the great wad of saliva you’ve been saving up just above the spot where the knot’s the tightest around your foreleg
  4068. >It flows downstream, through the forest of fur, into that chafing ridge of twine…
  4069. “Or it means that you’re afraid of something closer to home. Your conniving little Chancellor is afraid of his own people, isn’t he? Of this image he’s been so careful to build about himself. You can’t really use the nuclears you’ve been aching to use on us ever since we proved you so wrong about so many things… even demonizing us with all the propaganda in your arsenal couldn’t erase that black spot in the minds of so many.”
  4070. >Six strokes, and another deep cough
  4071. >Your wings flutter a bit in anticipation, and you silence your instincts to keep them in place
  4072. “You really think I can’t see right through you. This was never about taking the city. Dividing and conquering. Your ‘no-ships,’ if that’s what you called them... they’re contingencies at best. If not outright unicorn illusions. There’s only one team. One team and you. One team for the Wunderbolts. You, for me and my father.”
  4073. >Just when you expect another stroke of that great clock on high, no bell answers your expectation
  4074. >Eighteen-hundred hours… all of this before dinnertime
  4075. >That must be why you’re so hungry all of a sudden
  4076. >Trixie’s expression falters slightly, and you can tell she’s trying to think of a way to counter your bluff
  4077. >Which, you’re just now realizing, wasn’t a bluff at all
  4078. >It was the truth; the only truth of this entire damn spectacle
  4079. >You’re almost impressed you managed to piece it together while stalling for time, it just… it just came to you
  4080. >Like THAT
  4081. >A warm sensation trickles up your cannon; blood or spit, it doesn’t matter
  4082. >All that matters is that it gives you that much more wiggle room…
  4083. >”Thunder One. You need to return to coordination.”
  4084. >The engineer, patient as always, nervously hikes over a stack of leftover files
  4085. >”Thunder One…”
  4086. >”Trixie heard you. Well, daughter of Hurricane, it would seem you have quite a bit more of your father’s cunning in you than Trixie anticipated. Which makes you even more perfect for the Chancellor’s intentions.”
  4087. “Don’t tell me I just passed the test.”
  4088. >Trixie draws in a sharp breath in order to spout off another flowery sentiment, but she’s interrupted by a hoof planting itself squarely on her shoulder
  4089. >Captain Spitfire turns the unicorn about-face and glares her dead in the eye
  4090. >”You mean to tell me that we’re the only damn team here?! That my Seventh is facing down those Wunderbolts with zero reinforcements in sight?!”
  4091. >The Canterian captain raves, dropping all semblance of composure and practically disintegrating the unicorn with her stare
  4092. >Something tells you she wasn’t supposed to do that in front of you, since Trixie matches her look with equal fervor
  4093. >”Captain, Trixie would advise that you stand down before you cause an incident neither of us would like to see occur.”
  4094. >”To hell with that! Celestia damn it, the entire PAS military is here in the city! You can’t in any sense of the term ‘good faith’ tell me that it was the Chancellor’s entire intention to position the Seventh Aerial against that much firepower!”
  4095. >”Captain Spitfire…”
  4096. >This time, the soothing voice is your former friend Time Turner’s, who once again seems to be intent on drawing attention away from you with his body language
  4097. >First he diverted the focus of the room to Lightning Dust’s corner, now he’s positioned himself in such a way that he’s directly between you and the conflict at hoof
  4098. >No, it’s more than that… he’s coiled his tail into a loop and raised it directly above your head like a faux crown
  4099. >Is he trying to mock you? Does he know what you’re doing with your restraints?
  4100. >His movements almost suggest that he’s balancing something above that loop, but… ugh
  4101. >The first thing you’re doing when you slip this knot is tying what’s left of it around his scrawny Exsilist neck…
  4102. >Spitfire shrugs him off violently, flapping her wings rapidly to clear a space for herself
  4103. >”You have absolutely no say in this, Exsilist! This is between me and this prissy little civilian who thinks she’s in charge of this operation!”
  4104. >”Nominally, Trixie IS in charge. Chancellor Neighsay gave Trixie that authority directly.”
  4105. >”No, no… you’re running MY pegasi into a suicide mission down there. And he, the Chancellor, he… he… he knew about this?”
  4106. >”If all goes accordingly, your team will succeed in their objective. They are well-trained, Captain Spitfire. And though there are no other fielded teams, the no-ships at Trixie’s disposal are more than capable of providing reinforcements should the situation prove to be more than they can handle.”
  4107. >With Time Turner masking your movements with his flank, there’s no point in concealing them any longer
  4108. >You bend down and close your mouth around your foreleg, letting the wetness run deep into the fibers of the rope, letting the too-loose knot become ever looser
  4109. >A confirmation wiggle of your cannon lets you know that you can move it back through the knot just a few more millimeters than before
  4110. >”It really was all a bluff. I can’t believe it… this whole operation… Thunder Nine is the only fielded team.”
  4111. >”The only one needed, Captain Spitfire. The Wunderbolts are the only force worth destroying. The rest will prove vital to the reintegration of the PAS under this one.”
  4112. >Time Turner shakes his head
  4113. >”And you’re certain such a bold plan will work? Rainbow Dash is capable, this much I’ve learned from my brief interplay with her. But to succeed General Hurricane’s position at this early stage…”
  4114. >Trixie snorts, and an icy shiver travels the length of your spine as you realize, in the midst of your escape attempt, what’s being said
  4115. >What’s being said about YOU
  4116. >”She won’t be running the PAS. The Chancellor will. Her succession is in name only, even Trixie knows that.”
  4117. “You want… to use me… as a puppet?”
  4118. >Your sense of urgency suddenly mounts a major hurdle
  4119. >Something in you drives you to yank at your restraint, no matter how much it hurts to do so
  4120. >It’s coming apart, you can tell; it’s so close to falling apart
  4121. >Falling apart like… like everything now
  4122. >Even if there’s no great army at the door, you know you’ve lost
  4123. >You can see so clearly what will happen if you simply lie down and accept defeat
  4124. >It all makes perfect sense now; why they went to such great lengths to lure you here, why Lightning Dust tried to keep you away
  4125. >”All the fear and confusion, all this panic at the ground level… well, Trixie supposes it’s technically not really the GROUND level, is it? But the illusion of an invasion is just as potent as the real thing.”
  4126. >They’d forced Lightning into this under threat of harming you if she didn’t cooperate… you would never in a million years ask her for that, and she KNOWS you wouldn’t
  4127. >But Lightning Dust is more stubborn than anypony you’ve ever known, and from the moment they flipped her she saw only one option
  4128. >”When Trixie reenter Pericles, Captain Spitfire, you’ll see how obsolete the old way is. You’ll see what happens when a single mind is at the front of an assault. When a formation is merely a collective of neurons, working in tandem to introduce a single, unified result to the battlefield. Trixie’s no-ships are no longer cloaked, but it makes little difference. They’re operating on pure residual energy, the slightest whim directing their auto-pilots. What will your rank be worth then, Captain Spitfire? How will it matter whether I’m civilian or staff?”
  4129. >”You little… one of my stallions has already DIED for this mission! What have you lost? What?!”
  4130. >There was never a fight to be had, never blows to be exchanged, never blood to be shed in the service of the PAS
  4131. >You were never going to taste true combat, never…
  4132. >Somewhere, amidst all the chaos out there, your father is being carted onto a transport headed for Unicronia, to be used as a bargaining chip between the Exsilists and Canterium
  4133. >The price to be paid for a war, if it even solves anything at all
  4134. >The blood in your face boils, your coat stands straight on end, your wings tighten against the leather straps looped about their bones
  4135. >All this has been a great elaborate joke, with you as the punchline
  4136. >Lightning Dust knew the joke, and damn her if she ever crosses paths with you again after this…
  4137. >Time Turner knew the joke, and even as he dangles that snakelike tail in front of your face you’re planning to…
  4138. >To…
  4139. >…
  4140. >[It must be taken, not given]
  4141. >You heard that in a dream, or in a distant memory, or…
  4142. >The power has chosen you, and only you, and it must be taken when you’re ready to bear it
  4143. >You’ve never felt more ready in your life
  4144. >But suppose the power were presented to you in such a daring way, dangled in front of your face, begging to be used
  4145. >You’d be almost obligated to rise to the occasion
  4146. >Because whatever happens, it can’t be worse than the situation you’ve found yourself in
  4147. >”All your platitudes don’t faze Trixie, Captain Spitfire. And Trixie IS in command. Trixie is merely a proof of concept. What warfare might become if we allow this part of ourselves to flourish. Battles don’t need to be fought and won to gain a hold over the enemy. All it takes is the right pony in the right place… and our little daughter of Hurricane here is certainly the right pony.”
  4148. >You know everything she’ll tell you before she says it
  4149. >You understand why your situation is inescapable
  4150. >Your father is a hold over you, and you’re a hold over everypony else
  4151. >They’ll put you up there on the podium in Avemequus Plaza, have you proclaim that the attack was short-lived, that your Wunderbolts fought valiantly but were defeated, your father taken by the enemy
  4152. >That you’ll rise and take his place at the reins, which will prevent any of Hurricane’s true council from stepping up and making a mess of things
  4153. >With minimal bloodshed, and maximum manipulation, they’ll slowly bring the PAS back into the orbit of Canterium
  4154. >And what does the Cult of Exsilium get out of all of this?
  4155. >If you were a pessimist, you’d say that their involvement is an insurance policy, to prevent Hurricane from becoming a viable presence in the war that might one day betray them as they’re now betraying him
  4156. >But you’re an optimist
  4157. >And in true fashion, you believe you’ve already guessed what nopony else in this room understands save for one
  4158. >That you should have simply trusted your instinct from the beginning
  4159. >That Time Turner CAN be trusted with your life, and with the life of Hurricane
  4160. >The crimson jewel, which once was the sanguine centerpiece of Time Turner’s watch, the ticker-away of every second leading up to this inevitable defeat, now rests squarely upon the flat edge of the hooked end of his mechanical tail
  4161. >Ripped away from its constraints at some unseen moment, still inlaid with the numerals surrounding its face in a circle
  4162. >He’s positioned it in such a way that you won’t be able to take it from him while bound, but immediately upon freeing yourself
  4163. >This whole act, his siding with the Canterians and making backroom deals, it’s cowardly no matter which way you look at it
  4164. >But whether he had any inkling of what would happen once this came to pass or not, he’s specifically positioned himself here to offer you a choice
  4165. >Failure, or the chance of victory
  4166. >Even if it means death, you’ll take the latter in a heartbeat
  4167. >And for somepony like him… somepony who’s only survived up until now using these backhoofed tricks, a slave who came to be the ambassador to the Highmind Empress of New Exsilia
  4168. >The son of a watchmaker… you know a choice like this must be hard for him too
  4169. >It’d be better to wait, to bide your time until you could both come up with a better option together
  4170. >But he knows you as well as you know him, and what he KNOWS is that you need an end to this now
  4171. >That the farther Hurricane gets from Pegasopolis, the more difficult he’ll be to recover
  4172. >And even if it doesn’t mean a lot to him, he knows it means the world to you
  4173. >That’s why he’s giving you this choice, reluctant as he probably is to part with the jewel
  4174. >No, no, you remember now… you remember the cargo hold, that experience you thought was a dream
  4175. >He had shielded you from the world, wrapped you in the fabric of magic lost to time and explained to you something he’d made you to forget
  4176. >That there is a Beast, something greater than all the militaries in the world, and the only way to destroy it is with an Element
  4177. >An Element, plus its sisters… so he must know there are more out there, more to be found
  4178. >But you can’t even begin to care about all that right now
  4179. >You care about getting your father back, saving what he spent his life building
  4180. >And it starts with destroying that ugly dome on that snide little unicorn’s pretty little head
  4181. >”Do you understand what Trixie is saying, daughter of Hurricane? Do you understand the role that our Chancellor has chosen for you?”
  4182. >Trixie, the cunning but overzealous stooge, enters stage left
  4183. >You think back to those Daring Do flicks your father used to watch with you in the amphitheater, just the two of you
  4184. >When everypony else had gone, the two of you remained
  4185. “I think I get the gist. You want me to bend over and let Canterium control the PAS in the background. You want me because I can delegitimize Staatskongress.”
  4186. >”Trixie thinks you have more of a politician’s mind than that of a warrior. Not like this meatheaded one over here.”
  4187. >”You say one more word about me or my Seventh, Thunder One, and I swear to Celestia I’ll rip your…”
  4188. >”Thunder One. The coordination?”
  4189. >Trixie snaps an annoyed look back to her trailing engineer, then smiles pensively
  4190. >”Well, then. This conversation will continue, daughter of Hurricane. And when your Wunderbolts have been pacified, I’ll be bringing you in direct contact with the Chancellor himself. For further instructions.”
  4191. >The blue unicorn shifts into a position of comfort, allowing the engineer access to the monitoring panel at the base of her skull
  4192. >The monotonous hum returns in full force, and the reflective dome on Trixie’s head begins to glow dimly to match
  4193. >That great blue aura, radiating outward to fill all the empty space of Hurricane’s office, dissolving into the air
  4194. >In her own words, “seeing everything,” even with her eyes clamped shut in concentration
  4195. >Unmanned ships and a single squadron are the only threats that the city faces right now, but if you agree to go along with this plan…
  4196. >There are sure to be far more menaces on the way in short order
  4197. >Deep breaths, in and out, as Trixie prepares to begin her black incantations once more
  4198. >When she’s fully in that state, she can apparently cast illusions so complete and so potent that you could imagine yourself escaping into the open air without ever leaving this room
  4199. >The time for action is now
  4200. >The moisture running between your foreleg and the binding rope is beginning to dry
  4201. >The time…
  4202. >Is now…
  4203. >The burning jewel rests precariously before your very eyes, and in its gleaming multifaceted surface you can almost make out stars
  4204. >Stars obstructed by clouds…
  4205. >A sunset burning white…
  4206. >”Allahm xxyllyxyummm….”
  4207. “Do you know something, Tristan?”
  4208. >The chanting dies down as the unicorn scowls, still keeping her eyes firmly shut
  4209. >”It’s Trixie. The great and powerful, mind you.”
  4210. “Whatever. You say I have a politician’s mind. Maybe you’re right.”
  4211. >A stifled chuckle from Trixie, which seems to annoy Captain Spitfire just as much as you
  4212. >”If you think you can negotiate your way out of this situation, daughter of Hurricane, you’re sadly mistaken.”
  4213. “Oh, no. I just don’t think that a politician and a warrior can never be one and the same. Like my father.”
  4214. >”Hurricane? If he were nuanced, if he’d appreciated the finer aspects of this game, he would’ve foreseen this move. Your father’s an upstart.”
  4215. “Maybe. But he’s a fighter. He’s always fought for what he believed in. He’s always been loyal to this cause and no other. And what you need to understand about me is that I have my father’s mind too.”
  4216. >Still enough space to move
  4217. >Still enough…
  4218. >”You’re more talkative than Trixie gave you credit for. But Trixie needs some quiet time now, to focus. Please be—”
  4219. “No. I won’t take another order from you.”
  4220. >Spitfire interjects, shuffling Time Turner out of the way and moving the jewel over the side of your more tightly bound hoof in the process
  4221. >”You’re still a prisoner, Rainbow Dash. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re holding General Hurricane as collateral AGAINST you. If you value your father’s safety, you’ll do—”
  4222. “You think my dad would want me to play along to your tune just because you have him? No, no, no… you’re all wrong about me. Even you, Lightning. You were wrong all along.”
  4223. >Lightning looks up pitifully from her corner, seemingly engaged for the first time in this conversation
  4224. >Good… you want the attention of the whole room
  4225. “I’m Captain Rainbow Dash of the Wunderbolts. I’ve never fought a Canterian soldier, never laid down my life for this state. But I will without hesitation, and that’s something I know from the deepest part of my heart.”
  4226. >”Captain Spitfire, please restrain her from speaking. She’s interrupting Trixie’s incanta—”
  4227. “So that’s where you’ve all got it mixed up. I’ve got my father’s mind more than anything. My father, who built the PAS with his own hooves. My father, who liberated the pegasi from their treatment under Canterian rule. My father, who never hesitated to lay down his life for his cause. My father… who has always been…”
  4228. >”Captain Spitfire!”
  4229. “A REBEL!”
  4230. >One good yank is all it takes
  4231. >It comes with a sharp hot pain, a hundred fibers the size of needles dragging deep into your skin with only a thin layer of fur to protect it
  4232. >Your self-applied lubrication does some work, but it’s only barely enough to keep your hoof from stopping short
  4233. >One good yank up and out, and the shoddily-tied rope loosens just enough for your left foreleg to be freed completely from bondage
  4234. >It hurts like hell, of course, and you might be bleeding already from the sheer coarseness of it, but you don’t care and you can’t spare the time to check
  4235. >They must have thought you were too groggy to even think of escaping after Lightning knocked you into a concussive dream state, so they didn’t pay much mind to restraining you properly
  4236. >Their mistake
  4237. >A flash of movement, lights and objects and faces spinning around you, the whole world set in motion as your state of excitement grows
  4238. >You’re not free yet, and in another half-second they’re going to react to what you’re doing
  4239. >Using your free hoof, you jettison your body, chair and all, off of the desk that you know sits directly behind you
  4240. >You tip forward, but your hindlegs are down to the floor, and it’s enough to steady yourself and keep from careening downward
  4241. >Swiveling right, you reach as far as you can with your free hoof, grabbing first at thin air, then desperately clutching for the prize as you fall sideways
  4242. >Out of the corner of your eye, an orange blur is already evading your movement, likely trying to get behind you and restrain you again
  4243. >But Spitfire isn’t the one you’re going for
  4244. >Blindly, without any sort of strategy, you finally manage to grab ahold of Time Turner’s slithering tail, about six inches from the tip
  4245. >Your hoof, slippery as it is, nearly loses its grip on the sheer metallic surface, but you nevertheless use his still-rigid tail as a support to prevent yourself from falling any further
  4246. >Without stopping to take a breath, you let go of your hold with a proper push, and as the tail pushes against you in kind you realize that the jewel is even closer now, barely ten inches away from your face
  4247. >Without your other hoof, you can’t possibly hold on to something that small, but maybe if you just touched it…
  4248. >”He’s got the Ambassador! Thunder One, move away now!”
  4249. >The orders barked from Spitfire’s direction barely register as you work your way up the length of the tail with a single hoof, aspiring for that hooked endpiece
  4250. >Like the stinger of a scorpion in the San Palomino, it writhes and fights back, all while keeping that red crystal both balanced and hidden from everypony else in the room
  4251. >You don’t know how he manages it, but you suppose that whatever mechanically precise control he has over his augments is far stronger than he lets on
  4252. >Touch the jewel…
  4253. >Your hoof makes its way onto the flat of that hook, the prize tipping just out of reach
  4254. >Touch it…
  4255. >The ticking in your brain, that strange feeling you’ve been experiencing ever since you first met Time Turner, washing over your skin, your mind…
  4256. >Make it yours…
  4257. >For his part, Time Turner tugs away from you forcefully, artificial talons extending from his hooves to kick and scratch at your wandering limb
  4258. >One of his slashes connects, and a clean slice forms down the length of your foreleg
  4259. >It can’t be easy
  4260. >With everything you’ve got left in you, you sacrifice your balance to slam the flat of your hoof down onto the tip of the tail, aiming to simply make contact with the crystal
  4261. >Instead, the force of the blow launches the glittering object straight up into the air, and your eyes lock with it as though transfixed
  4262. >Milliseconds turn to minutes as the crystal turns through space, a vector limited by the power of gravity
  4263. >Up, then down again in a flawless arc, colors trailing in its wake, unseen to all but you
  4264. >A rainbow
  4265. >It reaches the apogee of its motion, then begins its descent, screaming into your ears with a silent cacophony
  4266. >TOUCH IT TOUCH IT TOUCH IT
  4267. >The motion of your hoof is undefined by any prior intent; not even instinct guides it anymore
  4268. >Something more powerful than instinct now, something older
  4269. >Something more natural…
  4270. >Fate
  4271. >…
  4272. >The time is 18:08:00, and your hoof and the Element occupy the same space
  4273. >By coincidence, perhaps, the collision of the two vectors occurred 18.08 inches above the ground, which is knowledge you don’t really know how or why you possess
  4274. >Time Turner knew he couldn’t simply give this to you at any moment, you needed to be prepared for it
  4275. >You needed to understand, through severity, what it meant to possess it
  4276. >And now…
  4277. >Now the seconds are ticking by…
  4278. >Your face hits the carpeted floor, your right wing unfortunately bearing the brunt of the impact
  4279. >But it’s a slower impact than what you expected, and everything’s gone red
  4280. >Is there blood in your eyes?
  4281. >No, you feel fine… you feel lighter, actually
  4282. >Still bound, but the Element is still in hoof
  4283. >In fact, it should be falling right out at this angle, but it’s as if it’s painlessly fused into the frog of your hoof
  4284. >Motionless, it crackles with unbound potential, some kind of old magic you won’t even pretend to comprehend
  4285. >A gift from Time Turner’s ancestors, passed down for generations, waiting for you
  4286. >But why you? Why is everything moving so fast now? Why is it…
  4287. >Not fast; not fast at all
  4288. >Everything is slow
  4289. >A great, thunderous heartbeat drums along, counting away the seconds
  4290. >Glancing up from this prone position, the first thing you see is Time Turner’s augmented lenses adjusting to look back at you
  4291. >But the way he’s moving his head, his body, the way his tail is wading through the air as if it’s swimming in molasses
  4292. >To your left, Spitfire is rolling behind you, trying to get at the right angle for preventing you from loosening the rest of your bonds
  4293. >But she too is moving almost agonizingly slow, the ferocity in her features dimmed by the slowness of her reflexes
  4294. >To your right, the unicorn Trixie is currently in the process of shutting her eyelids, her lips pursing, likely to recite some spell against you
  4295. >Her eyes are closing so slowly you can see every fold unfurl individually, and the time…
  4296. >The time is 18:08:01
  4297. >Just one second has passed since you snatched the Element out of the air
  4298. >You twist your body to work at the knot at the base of your right foreleg, hoping to free both hooves before Spitfire reaches you
  4299. >But before you get the chance to pull at the trailing ends of the rope with your free hoof, the knot splinters and blows apart into hundreds of gossamer fibers
  4300. >KACHOOM
  4301. >You must be dreaming
  4302. >This all must be some elaborate fantasy, the chair beneath you, it’s…
  4303. >With a few simple motions, the rope, the chair, everything preventing you from leaving this place suddenly bursts at their invisible seams
  4304. >The wood of the chair explodes into dark fragments, responding to your struggles as though you’re shaking it with the force of a powerhouse
  4305. >Somepony is shooting all your restraints to pieces, and yet nothing is hitting you
  4306. >No, it’s more than that… everypony isn’t suddenly slowing down, you’ve sped up
  4307. >Your movements, your senses, everything has accelerated since you grabbed the Element
  4308. >You’re shaking so quickly that everything around you is being torn to shreds
  4309. >You watch the splintered chips of the chair careen outward, bouncing off their surroundings, all of it framed in this soothing crimson aura
  4310. >Sounds are muffled; Spitfire seems to be shouting again, but her message is so slowed down you can’t understand it
  4311. >”SSSHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEE’SSSSSS BBBBRRREEEAAAAAAA—”
  4312. >This… this is awe-inspiring…
  4313. >This power…
  4314. >Or at least it WOULD be if it weren’t putting tremendous strain on your mind and body; you feel like you’ve just galloped five miles at the Gymnasium while memorizing every tactic ever played in the field
  4315. >This needs to stop, NOW
  4316. >And, as though responding directly to your impulse, the aura subsides, and the hand of time resumes its standard pace
  4317. >18:08:02
  4318. >You still don’t know why you can see the exact time of day in your head
  4319. >But you’re ready for what’s about to come
  4320. >”-kkking free of her restraints! I’ve got her, I’ve—"
  4321. >Your hindleg extends backward, and something hard collides with it
  4322. >Spitfire, whose path was so predictable in slowed time, tumbles headlong over your leg and crashes across Hurricane’s desk, slamming to a stop against the far wall
  4323. >She groans in pain
  4324. >”Ghhhh… how did she…”
  4325. >Even without the aura, your senses feel heightened; crackles in the air guide your attention to miniscule movements
  4326. >Endorphins rushing through your brain…
  4327. >Trixie, eyes fully shut now, lets out a great inequine bellow, and the room is suddenly bathed in shrieking blue light
  4328. >”KAAAAAZAMM-HYXXLUDENNN!!!!!”
  4329. >Electric sparks crackle at the tip of her terrible horn, arcing dangerously across the surface of the Pericles device on her head, and an instinctual shiver runs down your spine
  4330. >Your muscles tense up without your input, your eyes focus on some distance far beyond what you can see, and like the flick of a radiant light switch the redness returns
  4331. >Not all at once; no, it comes in flickers, potential becoming kinetic
  4332. >It takes time, at least for you, to notice that the movements of ponies around you have been cast in translucent images, as though it were a strand of memory taken all at once
  4333. >You wouldn’t know how to describe it if you even had the need to, but… they’re moving so slowly that the transitions between their poses are imperceptible
  4334. >A “frame” of Spitfire, dangling motionless in air as she tries again to grab you, simply bleeds into the next, with no boundary between the two
  4335. >Moments in time, which you’ve only known as continuous until now, are existing next to one another, and it’s the Element’s doing
  4336. >Slowed down nearly to a halt, the moments trample over one another, and like snakes burrowing through sand these great stretches of moments expand, leaving only faded blurs of their pasts behind them
  4337. >[The arrow moves]
  4338. >Somewhere, seemingly millions of miles away, a blue arc of deadly magic jettisons towards your motionless figure at the speed of light
  4339. >[It moves because the universe compels it to move]
  4340. >The shimmer of electric death doesn’t so much move towards you as much as it stretches, bends through space and time, faster by far than anything else around you
  4341. >But not fast enough
  4342. >The Element warming your hoof, you dodge the charge of light emanating from Trixie’s horn, allowing it to continue on to the other end of the office
  4343. >The amber glow of the small explosion it causes on contact with the wall behind you reaches your eyes long before the thunderous pulse of sound reaches your ears
  4344. >Several seconds, in fact…
  4345. >You don’t really know what to make of all this, the overload, the noise, the motion, the swirling…
  4346. >[You move because you must]
  4347. >One word DOES come to mind, however…
  4348. “Awesome.”
  4349. >The ticking of seconds accelerates, the red glow subsides once more, and you use what remains of your energy in that state to throw your forelegs around Time Turner’s segmented throat
  4350. >SHOOOOOOM
  4351. >The explosion behind you reaches its peak, a shockwave rustling the feathers in your wings and nearly knocking you off balance
  4352. >But you shift all your weight down, throwing yourself and Time Turner backwards into the corner by the door with a great twisting stride
  4353. >In the very same motion, knowing what will happen if you don’t, you gather the metallic tail that writhes in the air into the crook of your hindleg and throttle it with all your strength
  4354. >The spiked end cracks and flails, but in this position it appears impossible for it to escape
  4355. >And it would be, if it weren’t at least ten times stronger than Time Turner’s let on
  4356. >The blast of magic that Trixie threw at you wasn’t really all that powerful, and if it had connected with your barrel as intended it probably would’ve only incapacitated you
  4357. >Even enraged, this damn unicorn knows how to limit herself
  4358. >For her part, Trixie assumes a look of abject shock, as though her brain is can’t reconcile her expectation of you getting knocked across the room with the reality of what’s really happened
  4359. >”Tr-Trixie thought… that…”
  4360. >All that strain to get over here was well worth seeing her face go totally white
  4361. >Spitfire grunts as she misses her target yet again, crashing sideways into a filing cabinet and nearly crushing Lightning Dust under her weight as she lands gracelessly
  4362. >”H-how did she… how did she move like that? Tr-Trixie doesn’t… understand… how…”
  4363. >The stage is set
  4364. >You’re right where you needed to be, right at the exit, all of THEM in various states of disarray
  4365. >No guards, right?
  4366. >No backup
  4367. >That doesn’t mean no resistance, not by a longshot
  4368. >And you’re still at a massive disadvantage, even with the Element in hoof
  4369. >But Hurricane always told you that the hidden knife is the tool of cowards and fools
  4370. >You’ve already been stabbed in the back once today, and it won’t happen again
  4371. >Highstorm Port… that must be where he’s being taken
  4372. >Your father is still in the city… he HAS to be
  4373. >[You have a captive audience to entertain]
  4374. >Beneath you, Time Turner struggles, and his tail whips about furiously in your death hold
  4375. >But, as you look down at him, his eyes lock on to yours with a dark assurance for only a moment
  4376. >A moment he knows that only you can perceive
  4377. >His eyes seem to answer the question you’ve already asked him with the tightening of your hindleg
  4378. >[It won’t hurt]
  4379. >[It’s only metal]
  4380. >With one swift motion, you stamp down hard on the sharp end of Time Turner’s prehensile tail, smashing its connective fiber underhoof with all the residual energy that remains in you, instilled by the Element’s power
  4381. >Then, in another sweep, you gather up the arrowhead-like fragment from the floor and press it against Time Turner’s cheek
  4382. >Breathing heavily, sweat pouring down your mane, your back, your muzzle, you regain your balance and look Trixie, that blue bitch, dead in the eye
  4383. >The wood of the door presses against your flank
  4384. “Let me leave…”
  4385. >The warmth of the Element is overpowering
  4386. “…or he dies.”
  4387.  
  4388. ******
  4389.  
  4390. >Behind the door is infinity
  4391. >A light at the end of a hallway stretched impossibly thin at the center, the few weighted points of contact it has with your plane breathing in and out like a living fabric
  4392. >The doorframes, the supportive pillars, the braces, the richly carpeted flooring, it all undulates and twists into that speck of freedom
  4393. >The throat of a demon
  4394. >This way and that way the endpoint bends, sometimes so severely that it hides from your view, and all you can see is blackness there
  4395. >And it’s only a segment of the great labyrinth this witch has prepared for you
  4396. >You are Rainbow Dash, Captain of the Wunderbolts
  4397. >And the only leverage you’ve got against a lifetime of coerced servitude to the ponies you hate the most is the one real friend you’ve got left
  4398. >You slam the door shut again, hiking Time Turner’s shuddering form closer to you, the blade drawing a droplet of blood from his cheek as he shifts his weight against it
  4399. >You didn’t mean to make it THAT convincing, and you wish you could tell him so…
  4400. >But not here… not yet…
  4401. >Across from you, the venomous eyes of Captain Spitfire, that Canterian hardhead, lock with your own
  4402. >Her wings flutter menacingly behind her, as though she could pounce forth at any moment and put all your effort to waste
  4403. >With the Element still seemingly fused with your hoof, you know that won’t happen; it seems to have an instinct of its own, a desire to protect you from danger that signals its activation
  4404. >But she doesn’t know that, and her conviction actually manages to scare you more than if she understood the kind of power you have now
  4405. >Gorgons, YOU barely understand that power
  4406. >But the real threat opposing you is the blue unicorn, huddled into a defensive pose behind Spitfire, apparently still reeling from watching you dodge that stunning hex she cast at you
  4407. >Her muzzle scrunches up, not in distaste as before, but in a way that makes you believe she’s thinking of a new approach to this problem
  4408. >The chrome dome, the Pericles device, shimmers in the electrified air, attracting faint dust particles illuminated by the setting sun into its orbit and then casting them away again
  4409. >New wrinkles set into the unicorn’s face right before your eyes, and you doubt that you’re the only pony here to notice that she’s bleeding from the nose
  4410. >For all their menace, neither of the mares seem too keen on opening conversation again
  4411. >You guess you’ll have to be the one to strike one up again…
  4412. “The illusion spell. Turn it off, now.”
  4413. >Trixie scoffs, retreating even deeper behind the lean form of the Canterian captain
  4414. >”And WHY would Trixie do that, daughter of Hurricane?”
  4415. “Do I have to spell it out for you? This little worm is getting a brand new metal implant in his neck if you don’t let me out!”
  4416. >You use the chipped-off bit of Time Turner’s artificial tail to gesture across his half-mechanical body, still splayed out between you and them
  4417. >”Why don’t you just leave through the window? You pegasi are fond of aerial exits, aren’t you?”
  4418. >Now it’s your turn to scoff right back at the unicorn
  4419. “You must think I’m real stupid, land-dweller. It’s Spitfire, right?”
  4420. >The captain’s gaze narrows as you address her so suddenly, and for the first time she appears to become wary of the fact that Trixie is using her as a shield
  4421. >”You already know my name.”
  4422. “It seems like the two of you don’t get along quite as well as you probably tried to make it look. And since I have no good way of knowing whether or not you’re lying to me, I’m just going to have to take your answer to this next question in good faith.”
  4423. >Spitfire steadies her stance, the mounted A70 swivel gun on her shoulder swaying atop its pitching pistons
  4424. >”Shoot.”
  4425. >She’s not aiming it at you, even now… she knows as well as anypony here that your death would be disastrous to all involved
  4426. >You can use that
  4427. “If I were to fly out that window right now, what would happen to me?”
  4428. >Spitfire grimaces, throwing her sweat-glistening fire-orange mane back as she tilts her head towards those long translucent windows at the office’s back
  4429. >”I can only advise that you don’t do it, Rainbow Dash.”
  4430. “Have you really seen these ‘invisible ships’ that the unicorn’s so proud of? You’ve seen them in action?”
  4431. >”It’s how my team and I got so close to the city undetected.”
  4432. >You nod, wanting to be able to trust the word of this Canterian if only because you’ve got no other option
  4433. “If I flew out that window, the jet you’ve got patrolling the building will cut me right out of the sky. So I’m asking again, unicorn. Turn off the illusion spell.”
  4434. >”If I might.”
  4435. >Time Turner’s voice comes as a brief shock to your system
  4436. >You’d somewhat tried to push down the fact that you’re holding your friend hostage, that you’ve resolved to make him into an enemy just like the rest of them
  4437. >To act
  4438. >But it’s harder now, knowing that you’re really powerless if they try calling your bluff
  4439. >”Thunder One. Trixie. I can understand your hesitance to think of me as anything more than one of the Exsilists who are currently laying siege to your city of Unicronia. I can even understand why you might see this whole situation as farcical, being that we are only allies of circumstance. You might even see it as a net positive if Captain Dash were to cut my throat, and indeed it would effectively sever any prior arrangements your Chancellor has made with my Empress. However.”
  4440. >The blade begins to slip in your hoof with the movements of Time Turner’s jaw; you turn it over to steady it
  4441. >”It’s optimal to allow Captain Dash to leave at this time. And I’m not merely speaking from a place of selfish self-preservation.”
  4442. >”Trixie doesn’t see the benefit, Exsilist.”
  4443. >”This show of force on Captain Dash’s part, the brazenness in which she escaped her bonds and took me captive… I can only assume that neither you nor your Chancellor planned for things to play out this way.”
  4444. >Trixie rolls her eyes, freshly bloodshot from the strain she exercised upon activating the device once more
  4445. >”You’re a regular prophet.”
  4446. >”I’ve come to know this mare in some capacity during my time here, and—”
  4447. “You don’t know anything about me.”
  4448. >”Ahem. Very well. But if I might sing your praises for a moment, Captain Dash, it seems to me that the rest of you were laboring under the impression that this mare was not capable of rebelling against you when presented the opportunity. That her spirit would be crushed by the thought of her father being used as collateral. I can assure you that the opposite is true. Captain Dash will kill me, and even when you take her again she will not sit still and allow you to pull her strings. She is more of a liability to you than an asset.”
  4449. >Damn flip-flopper… wasn’t he the one nodding along and agreeing with their stupid plan just a few minutes ago?
  4450. >Except…
  4451. >No
  4452. >No, no, no…
  4453. >A jolt of energy flashes through you as you realize what’s about to come
  4454. >”It’s best if you release the spell, Thunder One. If you desire to give her chase, I doubt she’ll make it far.”
  4455. >Before, Time Turner was giving you options
  4456. >He allowed you to choose the path you wanted to take; to bide your time, or to take action now
  4457. >You chose
  4458. >And he’s taken that as an absolute confirmation
  4459. >”Until a proper military presence can be allocated from the Unicronian front, I’m afraid the lot of you are no more in control of Pegasopolis than their War Council, which is as of this moment unaware of their leader’s departure. I’ve had the pleasure of being in their company. And while many of them are indeed fanatics, others… say, a certain Hauptgeneral Wind Rider… are malleable. From the beginning this has been a question of legitimacy, and I can say with absolute certainty that there are those among that Council who will be more faithful to you and inspire greater comfort in the citizenry of the PAS than Captain Dash is presently capable.”
  4460. >He’s removing the safety net now
  4461. >It means he’s confident enough in your ability to escape without him, but it also means that YOU have to be confident of the same
  4462. >You know he’s lying about the Council… you know he’s doing all this for you…
  4463. >But that voice, those eyes… you’d never be able to tell if you didn’t know for certain
  4464. >You can’t even be certain that you’re certain
  4465. >Because all of this… complexity… everything you’ve been introduced to, this tapestry of events that still seems to be missing so many pieces…
  4466. >Your life might not be nearly as important as your “purpose”
  4467. >”If the Great and Powerful Trixie removed the spell now as you say, Ambassador… we’d have no guarantee of taking the daughter of Hurricane into custody again. Nor do we have any guarantee that you don’t simply have some different game you’re playing.”
  4468. >He does
  4469. >Doesn’t he?
  4470. >He must
  4471. >Time Turner’s muzzle curls into a grimacing smile that would have set your bones on edge when you first met him
  4472. >Then that low, metallic-infused voice of his chimes back with an undertone you’ve never heard before
  4473. >Something deeper, darker
  4474. >”My dear Thunder One, if you wanted guarantees you needed only ask. My life is worth very little to me. But Captain Rainbow Dash’s life…”
  4475. >The intonation of his voice seems to split; on one register, the syllables, sharp vowels and guttural consonants
  4476. >But on the other, lower register, a rhythmic chime, initially in time with his speech but then gaining its own tempo, an erratic drumming frequency
  4477. >”…is worth nothing at all.”
  4478. >What?!
  4479. >”This illusion spell is localized, yes? Then they shouldn’t have any trouble navigating here.”
  4480. >No, no, you have to leave now, they can’t know about the Element…
  4481. >”And the device on your head, Thunder One… if it’s disabled, I doubt you’d be able to control the illusion any longer. So I’ll be sure to instruct them to exercise caution.”
  4482. >What side is he playing?
  4483. >What kind of…
  4484. >Trust
  4485. >Absolute trust
  4486. >The chiming tone grows louder and louder, the direction of its vocalization not at all matching Time Turner’s natural speech
  4487. >As though following something out there… or somepony…
  4488. >”This is what our partnership is worth to me, Thunder One. A show of faith, for the sake of peace.”
  4489. >It’s a beacon
  4490. “Ah—”
  4491. >You dive away from the door less than half a second before it’s blown to charred splinters from the outside
  4492. >Taking the scruff of Time Turner’s neck in hoof, you cover your whole body with your left wing as a black inferno spreads from the spot you were just standing in
  4493. >The cyborg bucks against your stomach hard, knocking all the air out of your lungs and eliciting a pathetic wince
  4494. >The blade falls from your hoof; no, rather, it flies away with the explosive force behind that door
  4495. >Before you can even get your bearings back, the distinctive rev of something very powerful and very dangerous greets your ears
  4496. >And something faster than instinct catches it
  4497. >The world becomes bathed in crimson
  4498. >The edges of time and space bleed outward in your peripheries, and frames of motion trample over one another
  4499. >You’re back in that elemental state, and this time you’re ready for its consequences
  4500. >Only a limited time to perceive in this way, only limited energy to act and react
  4501. >You glance over in Time Turner’s direction to find that he is elongated, stretched out across millions of individual units of time
  4502. >At the front of that expanse, the moments materialize, and new silhouettes are born seemingly from nothing to replace the decaying points at the end
  4503. >Time is too continuous to mark a single moment as the present
  4504. >And you can see so many presents, so many Time Turners, so many Trixies and Spitfires
  4505. >So many bullets raining hellfire on you from that smoking doorway
  4506. >With a speed that must appear impossible from the outside, you rush to the side, avoiding the trajectory of the first few shots
  4507. >But they come in a spread, or maybe a sweep, and there are still dozens more moving through fatal states of motion towards you
  4508. >Each one is a gleaming line, an arrow made of time as much as it’s made of brass and lead
  4509. >Each one visibly displaces the air before it, streaks of cascading fire burning off it from the initial discharge that set it on its path
  4510. >To dodge them all would be strenuous, but you know you can push yourself to that place if you have to
  4511. >Rather than zipping around to avoid them individually, you propel yourself skyward with a force tremendous enough to send ripples through the floor
  4512. >You’re floating now; the acceleration of gravity is slowed, or your senses are faster, or some combination of the two
  4513. >But the important thing is that the bullet storm doesn’t cover that height, and the forest of vectors travel on and out through the desk, the windows, the walls
  4514. >You strain your mind, and the red tint goes out of your eyes
  4515. >Time resumes its standard pace, and before you know it you’re falling back down to the ground again
  4516. >You trim your wings against your flanks and push off against the air to maintain the height advantage, gazing at the smoky ruin of the doorframe
  4517. >Two monstrous silhouettes emerge from the billowing hole; twin hulks with eyes that shine perceptibly through the smoke despite their deep blackness
  4518. >You were wondering when these two would show their “faces” again
  4519. >Time Turner’s bodyguards, bald of mane or tail, pulsing muscle exhibited behind plexiglass plates at the joints, thickets of wires cutting through skin and bones alike, and armored in all the right places, approach you with a silence that’s unnerving given their size
  4520. >Each of them has drawn their weapons; double shoulder-mounted gatling guns, previously concealed Gorgons-know-where, belt fed from a box cartridge welded into their spines
  4521. >The muzzles of the four guns, augmented with sub-attachments that may well be projectile launchers, still glow fire-red from the heat of the discharge
  4522. >If you’d stood still, if the Element hadn’t reacted FOR you in that moment, you’d be nothing more than a blue and red stain on the far wall
  4523. >The two stallions, one grey and the other white with patches of black, advance fully into the room, their glossy black eyes glaring coldly at you as you settle into a semi-relaxed flutter near the ceiling
  4524. >Neither shows any kind of frustration at the fact that they missed you at near point-blank range; they just stare, as though numerically predicting the best possible moment to strike again
  4525. >Time Turner pants below you, still reeling from the sudden jerk you gave him when you pounced upwards just as he kicked off of you
  4526. >Without his tail, he doesn’t pose much of a threat, but as his eyes fix onto yours you realize the nature of the situation
  4527. >You have mere moments to regain your hostage before you’re gone for good
  4528. >”There! She did it again! Trixie saw!”
  4529. >Still cowering behind the rough, trembling figure of Spitfire, the unicorn cries out in abject shock
  4530. >Her helmet shimmers, maintaining that sheer illusory effect you noticed when you first came to in this room, as though Trixie herself weren’t real at all
  4531. >An effect of the illusion spell she’s casting… and if the helmet were damaged, as Time Turner said…
  4532. >”She moved faster than the eye could perceive! No ordinary pegasus… could…”
  4533. >She trails off, watching and waiting to see what will happen between you and the bodyguards
  4534. >Spitfire, on the other hoof, rapidly intervenes, stepping forth towards the prone Time Turner to help him up
  4535. >”Cease your fire, Ambassador! If you wanted to convince us of something, you’ve convinced us. But no show of faith is worth losing Rainbow Dash as an asset. The Chancellor’s orders were firm. Cripple the Wunderbolts, but leave their leader unharmed.”
  4536. >The bodyguards’ gatling guns all rev in tandem, the gun metal glinting as it turns
  4537. >If they’re trying to intimidate you, it works; if they let loose on you right now, you wouldn’t have nearly enough energy to reactivate the Element and dodge their fire
  4538. >Time Turner cringes, flipping himself over in such a way that he noticeably retracts further away from Spitfire’s outstretched hoof
  4539. >”As I stated before… ugh… Captain. The life of Rainbow Dash concerns neither me nor the Highmind Empress. If her involvement is crucial, then my guards will stand down. I’ve merely offered you an alternative path.”
  4540. >”I won’t have you murdering a potential political prisoner when we could use her.”
  4541. >”I know her better than anypony here. She’s unpredictable, Captain. Unstable. And clearly you’re unfit to detain her, considering the present situation.”
  4542. >”It’s magic.”
  4543. >Everypony stops to regard Trixie, who’s taken up refuge behind a filing cabinet in Spitfire’s absence
  4544. >There’s a look in her eyes you haven’t seen yet, a look of…
  4545. >Fear?
  4546. >Recognition?
  4547. >”That’s what Trixie has seen from her, i-it’s… magic. Unprecedented. Pericles sees all things. Pericles is screaming… it’s loud now, it’s so… so loud… SO LOUD!”
  4548. >”Dear Celestia…”
  4549. >The engineer, who you’d almost forgotten was in the room due to his own insistence to remain behind Trixie at all times, stares at the back of the glossy dome on Trixie’s head
  4550. >”The module is… it’s rattling. Physically, it’s… there’s no way to stop it now, it’s too far gone—”
  4551. >”SHUT UP! EVERYPONY JUST SHUT UP WHEN TRIXIE IS SPEAKING!”
  4552. >The frightened stallion stumbles backwards, yelping when he touches the wall
  4553. >They’re aware of something you’re not… and there’s no noise that you can hear
  4554. >The bodyguards stand firm, their golemic stares concentrated solely on you
  4555. >Spitfire and Time Turner are watching Trixie as she becomes more and more frenzied
  4556. >”IT’S HER! DAUGHTER OF HURRICANE! SHE IS USING MAGIC! ONLY I, TRIXIE, AM ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC IN THIS PLACE!”
  4557. >The Element is concealed, molded into your hoof for the time being
  4558. >At the right moment, if you could just swoop down before the bodyguards react…
  4559. >Spitfire raises her wings nervously, preparing for action
  4560. >”Th-Thunder One… the situation is under control for now. We need to—”
  4561. >”TRIXIE IS THE VOICE OF THE CHANCELLOR! KY’LYGGHOS AMMOLAI CYLYXXIGOA! TRIXIE EXERCISES HIS WILL! YOU CANNOT CONCEIVE OF HIS INTENTIONS!”
  4562. >You’re sweating, working your eyes from one point of interest in this space to another, trying to work out the best possible path
  4563. >To the left of the bodyguards, you could use the Element’s force to push them against one another, into Spitfire, out of your way
  4564. >But the helmet, Pericles, THAT has to take priority; you’ve got no hope of getting out of the Staatskongress building while the spell is up
  4565. >Time Turner’s removed himself as leverage… what is he thinking?
  4566. >For what seems like the hundredth time, you have to question whether he’s really on your side
  4567. >If you moved towards him now, while everypony’s distracted, then maybe, just maybe…
  4568. >The seconds tick by
  4569. >Trixie lets out a guttural shriek, intoning her grating Unicronian incantations with even more fervor than before
  4570. >She can see it; you understand that well enough
  4571. >She doesn’t know what she’s seeing, but she can see the Element in your hoof
  4572. >It’s only a matter of time…
  4573. >”It’s burning… BURNING in Trixie’s head… Trixie is… is… ka’laam aqamax pyleiothoss hoxxallmzzyammor…”
  4574. >While she speaks her terrible tongue, you slow the beat of your wings gradually, lowering yourself closer to the distracted Time Turner
  4575. >If you move slowly enough, the two machine-things might not notice
  4576. >”Ah’amm xxyxuulumm, kao’laman elaokazarr!”
  4577. >”Thunder One, stand down!”
  4578. >”Killeos maTEHAER!”
  4579. >”Thunder One, I will take immediate control of this operation if you don’t stand down, NOW!”
  4580. >”KILL HER! KILL HER! ABOMINATION OF OLD, DESTROY HER! AZZAQAT KILLEOS MATEHAER! MATEHAER! SSSSSSSSSEEAXMAXXYLSSSSSSOM!”
  4581. >The unicorn hisses like a kettle, and her overtones, amplified from the radiant power of the device on her head, grow ever louder, ever more menacing
  4582. >”THUNDER ONE!”
  4583. >Spitfire’s pleading seems to have no effect
  4584. >But she’s forgotten you entirely
  4585. >Now’s the time
  4586. >Now!
  4587. >”KA’LAAAMOSS EXEMAGASSSS KAZAAR!”
  4588. >Your wings drop to your flanks
  4589. >The weight of the world comes down on you
  4590. >It feels like a dizzying height you’re falling from, even if it’s only a few meters
  4591. >The illusion disorients you, but it isn’t enough to make you forget
  4592. >He’s there at the bottom
  4593. >(She’s there, you just have to catch her before she)
  4594. >Distantly, you hear the powerful rev of the gatling guns preparing to fire, but you know they’re too late
  4595. >You’re in range of their master, and they wouldn’t risk his safety even for you
  4596. >Your hooves touch down on the carpet; Spitfire is beside you, only now realizing you’re there
  4597. >Her attempt to swivel and meet your effort is slow
  4598. >So slow
  4599. >Fatally slow
  4600. >Slowed by crimson waves, pouring out of the gemstone, compelling her to nearly halt in her tracks
  4601. >Her eyes have many pupils, hundreds, all flickering in as the eyes move, out as the time passes far beyond that state
  4602. >If you kicked her with all your force now, you would probably rip her in half
  4603. >Instead, you sidestep, carefully avoiding Time Turner as well to make your way towards the immobile guards
  4604. >Their full-black eyes seem to follow you even now, the convex surfaces bending the light that strikes them, distorting the mirror image within
  4605. >But… you’re already exhausted
  4606. >It’s been so little time, and you’re already out of energy?
  4607. >This stupid thing has diminishing returns!
  4608. >You won’t be able to make it to where the two guards stand before your time runs short, and when it does, you’re in for a world of hurt
  4609. >You’ll have to catch your breath, recharge the Element, and the only way to do that is…
  4610. “Well, here goes nothing.”
  4611. >It has to be done with care, EXTREME care
  4612. >Move him too fast, and he’d break his neck from the whiplash
  4613. >You delicately place your hooves against Time Turner’s withers and flank, and heave slowly but forcefully
  4614. >You’re surprised to find that he weighs about as much as a feather, but now that you think about it, that makes perfect sense
  4615. >Power is a function of work across time, and with time stretched so thin the energy required to move a body across a “frame” is drastically decreased
  4616. >That’s the real value of this Element, isn’t it?
  4617. >It affords great power, and with that power must come the perception required to wield it
  4618. >The radiating slowness of time’s arrow… it’s a consequence, a NECESSITY
  4619. >And it’s about to run out
  4620. >Fortunately, the task you set out to perform is already complete; Time Turner is positioned firmly between you and his bodyguards, their gatling guns still whirring to life, echoing across the multitude
  4621. >Spitfire’s barked orders, Trixie’s deranged screaming, these sounds, these thoughts, they all collapse upon one another as time resumes its standard pace
  4622. >(Waveforms become particles)
  4623. >”SSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTAAAANNNDD UP! AMBASSA… huh?”
  4624. >Captain Spitfire reels away from you, once more baffled at what she thinks she’s seen
  4625. >The bodyguards, still stolid and unmoving, perceive their master in front of them in the same instant, and their weapons grind to a mechanical halt
  4626. >Their reflexes are top-notch… they were about to let loose on you before you activated the Element, and in the span of milliseconds they understood the error they would have made?
  4627. >For his part, Time Turner shivers from the sudden motion he’s been put through, but seems otherwise unfazed
  4628. >How many times has he used the Element in this same way?
  4629. >To willingly give away this kind of power, ANCESTRAL power at that…
  4630. >You wish you could simply ask him why
  4631. >But you’ve already made peace with the fact that you won’t be able to do that for quite some time
  4632. >It’s about your father now… it’s about Hurricane
  4633. >You glance over to the far corner of the room, where Trixie continues to screech obscenely in her cursed tongue
  4634. >Her horn, exposed within a groove in the Pericles device’s hull, crackles with electric force
  4635. >This time it’s no longer cerulean as before, but a murky, almost purple tone of deep blue
  4636. >In the mere moments you know you have to observe your surroundings before activating the Element again, you can’t help but gaze into that alien aura
  4637. >It’s… there’s no other word for it than “hyperbolic” in form
  4638. >The lines of energy wring tightly around the middle of her gleaming horn, and then angle sharply outwards in all directions, where they trail off into the air
  4639. >No darkly glowing line touches another, and over time what once resembled sparks of random electric current become straight and perfect
  4640. >You grip Time Turner tighter to you, recognizing the danger of staying in this position for any longer
  4641. >You can’t back away, or all the progress you made forward towards the bodyguards will be lost
  4642. >You can’t approach Trixie; she’s too far away, and the arcs of her magic travel too quickly even for your elemental form
  4643. >No, you take on one danger at a time… first the hulking machine-things hell-bent on separating you from their master by any means necessary, THEN the witch defiling this place with her unicorn magic
  4644. >No longer to the left, but to the center… that’s where you need to go, BETWEEN the bodyguards
  4645. >From there you could… it’s POSSIBLE that you could…
  4646. >Well, you aren’t even going to think about it
  4647. >Where has thinking things through got you thus far?
  4648. “Trixie!”
  4649. >The unicorn gasps at your addressal, only momentarily halting her incantations before resuming
  4650. >You remove one hoof from Time Turner’s shoulder and point dead-on at the blue witch, murder dancing behind your eyes
  4651. “You’re next.”
  4652. >You nod at Time Turner
  4653. >Imperceptibly, he returns the gesture
  4654. >In a flash, you throw him aside, watching only momentarily as he stumbles directly into Spitfire
  4655. >The machine guns whir to life again, infernos blazing in the depths of those ink-black barrels
  4656. >From this distance, you’d never be able to approach Trixie without being cut down by those deep purple rays
  4657. >Throwing something won’t work either, as you really have no reason to test her reflexes
  4658. >But if something heavy, something unavoidable, came hurtling into her at high velocity, she’d have no choice but to acknowledge and remove it
  4659. >A double-tap attack is the only way, and you know just the stallions for the job
  4660. “This’d better work.”
  4661. >WHHHIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRATATATATAAAATAAAAAAAAATAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
  4662. >The chain of gunfire in your direction ignites, then slows, then becomes nothing more than background noise
  4663. >(Sinusoidal)
  4664. >Red upon red, the Element fires back, deep crimson waves crashing down upon the world around you
  4665. >(Up, then down)
  4666. >Movement towards the bodyguards is a distribution, the consequence of vector momentum
  4667. >All the natural laws of the universe unfold before you, the circuitry of existence plotted along axes only you can see
  4668. >Time slows to a crawl, shapes dance as shadows cast against themselves, and although the strain is immense you bear all the weight of this power for as long as you’re capable
  4669. >You remove yourself from the trajectory of the bullets before they even breach the sound barrier, as you likely already have
  4670. >(A defilement of destiny)
  4671. >Only you are exempt from this effect, these “frames” of motion that appear intrinsic to every other kinetic body
  4672. >Only you can fly faster than perception
  4673. >Crackling, burning, the Element lives in your hoof, it LIVES
  4674. >It breathes…
  4675. >Your lungs draw air only when you’ve positioned yourself where you need to be
  4676. >The white and black speckled guard stands like a boulder before you, and behind you the grey one fires into thin air, for the moment unaware of what’s about to happen
  4677. >A function of energy over time…
  4678. >And in this state, what might otherwise be an immovable object, a boulder in the path of victory…
  4679. >Is lighter than a feather
  4680. “GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAYAH!”
  4681. >You let loose on the black and white titan, laying as many hard blows on him with your forehooves as time allows
  4682. “YAA!”
  4683. >Only a few more moments of energy, you HAVE to make them count
  4684. “GRA!”
  4685. >A punch with the left, a jab with the right, a shove with both hooves, a rapid-fire beating that rivals the rate of fire of the very guns strapped upon his saddle
  4686. “HUN-YAAAA!”
  4687. >A rain of fury, every fiber of your being, every cell of your blood pouring out of the rest of your body and into the tips of your raging hooves
  4688. ”YA-TATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATAAAAAAAAA!”
  4689. >Savagery, put forth by instinct, born in the fire of all the betrayals you’ve had to suffer, all the pain you’ve had to endure
  4690. >You see in that steely face turned to mush from the hailing blows the features of Lightning Dust, for making all of this come to pass
  4691. >Of Time Turner, for not trusting you enough to be truly straight with you from the moment you met
  4692. >Of your father, for abandoning you and your mother in that place in the clouds to fight his damn war, to have been so far away when she died for absolutely nothing
  4693. >Of those sneering socialites of Staatskongress who have never fought a day in their lives, but see fit to instruct you in the ways of battle
  4694. >Of the Chancellor of Canterium, the faceless Highmind Empress, the witch Trixie, the verminous ponies of the land, anypony and everypony who you’ve ever wanted to land one good blow on in your entire life
  4695. >All the anger, the fear, the passion…
  4696. >(The power)
  4697. “HIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTT-YATAAAAAAAA!!!!”
  4698. >One final crushing, sweeping blow to the guard’s skull uses up nearly all of your remaining elemental energy
  4699. >Nearly… but you have to restrain yourself for what’s about to come
  4700. >The blood of the world seeps back into the Element, and frames of motion become smooth and singular
  4701. >The force of so many blows in so little time was, as you had hoped, additive
  4702. >Like a spring pulled taut enough to snap, the white and black guard accelerates beyond belief, swept off his pillar-like legs and sent flying towards Trixie and her engineer
  4703. >The exposed organic parts of his right side are mashed pulp, and the metallic parts are dented, crumpled, split, trailing white nutritional fluids and motor oil
  4704. >Covered in blood, too; your blood, drawn fresh from your now-cracked forehooves
  4705. >You don’t think you killed him, but if he were any less than a hulking cyborg golem you probably would have with a barrage like that
  4706. >You think you hear a gasp at the opposite end of the room as Trixie realizes what’s coming at her, followed by a blinding burst of energy
  4707. >The radiating hyperbolic spell fizzles out instantaneously as a new wave with a new color cascades from corner to corner, vibrating the very walls and floor
  4708. >The silhouette of the guard tumbling through space is all that’s visible as beams of light bend around it, and it’s quickly knocked off course by some kind of invisible field
  4709. >The guard crashes into Hurricane’s desk, and the oak square finally collapses into splinters under the immense weight of his steel augments
  4710. >Beneath the deafening noise of it all, Trixie whimpers from what you imagine must be the immense strain of abandoning a spell for another with less than half a second to react
  4711. >Then, that whimper transforms into a muttering, then a cold and breathy laugh
  4712. >”Tr-Trixie saw… Trixie saw the monster coming, daughter of Hurricane! Trixie doesn’t NEED heightened reflexes to see into your mind! What you’re planning!”
  4713. “No. She only needed a dopey helmet given to her by her superiors.”
  4714. >You can tell the witch is bubbling with fury, but she masks it with a cough brought forth by the wood dust in the air
  4715. >”Pericles sees all. It sees the trajectory of your actions before you even commit to them. It sees that you plan to approach Trixie and destroy her precious Pericles. But Trixie is great. Trixie is powerful. Tri-ACH-ACH! Ahem. Trixie sees the intentions of your mind laid bare. And to know everypony’s actions in advance, daughter of Hurricane…”
  4716. >The unicorn readies herself, the strange purple vectors resuming their flow, puppet strings connecting Trixie’s glossy helmet to every surface
  4717. >”…is to know the future itself.”
  4718. “Then predict this, bitch.”
  4719. >Between the guards, that’s where you aimed to position yourself
  4720. >The bicolored guard was before you, and the grey-coated one remains behind you
  4721. >And it’s taken him precisely this long to heed his master’s wishes
  4722. >He wouldn’t have dared to fire in this direction had Time Turner not given him the go-ahead
  4723. >They have some kind of wireless link, connecting their thoughts and whims by the power of Exsilist technomancy
  4724. >But beyond that, Time Turner, now pinning Captain Spitfire down with his own collapsed form and staring you down from across the room, knows what you know far better than Trixie
  4725. >Perhaps it’s some residual energy vector of the Element which allows him to see your mind so clearly
  4726. >Or perhaps it’s less complicated than that
  4727. >Maybe it’s just the time you spent together
  4728. >Friendship
  4729. >FSSSHOOOOOO
  4730. >A single blast from the barrel of a single gun, aimed point blank at the back of your head
  4731. >In concert with that blast, the small amount of energy you stored in the Element allows you to strain against all the logical limits of your body
  4732. >In a brief flash lasting barely a millisecond in real time, you dodge that fatal trajectory, allowing the point of certain death to pass through the space your body once occupied
  4733. >Time slows, then starts again, and only shortly after tumbling to the side do you notice the pain
  4734. >Pain like burning, like tearing through all your skin, like…
  4735. >Total expenditure
  4736. “Guh!”
  4737. >The bullet, once pale frames passing through time, now occupies a single arc
  4738. >Through space, through time…
  4739. >Through Pericles
  4740. >The bullet, intended for you, rips across the room and strikes the gleaming helmet atop Trixie’s head, passing right through its external layer
  4741. >Trixie may have been fast enough to alter her spell and dodge the mechanical brute flying at her, but she can’t dodge bullets, especially ones she doesn’t see coming
  4742. >Sparks fly within the dark crater made in the helmet; cracks, visible only by the glint of catching the light, cut deep in all directions from that origin point
  4743. >And though “Pericles” bears the brunt of the stopping power, Trixie still slams against the wall from the impact, taking her engineer lackey with her in the fray
  4744. >Still sliding from the leftover momentum, you wobble and nearly fall flat on your muzzle against the shattered desk, but bear through the pain of the aftershock to keep yourself upright
  4745. >Your wings feel like they barely exist anymore; for some reason, the Element drains more energy from them than any other part of your body
  4746. >Panting, exhausted but still standing, you waste no time in readjusting to the new situation
  4747. >You drive yourself upward and spread your wings, vaulting right over the other bodyguard who appears to be silently questioning how he could’ve missed a shot at such a range
  4748. >He was the last thing standing between you and the smashed-open, charred doorframe, and now you flutter outside into the space beyond and skid to a halt
  4749. >Your mind and heart are racing, but your eyes haven’t even had time to adjust to your surroundings
  4750. >The place you’re standing in right now is…
  4751. >An ordinary hallway
  4752. >The hallway outside your father’s office
  4753. “Good Gorgons… it actually worked…”
  4754. >The illusion spell was broken! The damage you did worked!
  4755. >At least, temporarily; everything you see now is ordinary, no stretched corridors, no impossibly high ceilings, no labyrinth of unseen proportions
  4756. >Most damning of all, the Conciliary Wing of the Staatskongress building is littered with the bodies of clerks and soldiers alike
  4757. >No traces of blood, which means they’re most likely only unconscious, within a trance spell the witch conjured up
  4758. >She carved a path into this place where your father was, unaware of the dire circumstances befalling Pegasopolis, and then she covered her tracks with a filthy sense-altering trick
  4759. >To think that you fell for it all… to think that you trusted anypony… that you TRUSTED Lightning Dust so completely
  4760. >All for this land-dwelling vermin of a unicorn to blow it all up…
  4761. >”RRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!”
  4762. “Speak of the devil.”
  4763. >You can’t tell if that was a cry of pain or fury, but knowing what little you’ve learned about this Trixie, you’re going to guess the latter
  4764. >You doubt she takes kindly to being shot, OR to being hoisted by her own saddle
  4765. >But you tricked her fair and square, and now it’s time to run
  4766. >Taking one last sideways glance inside the destroyed office, you notice the seafoam-green form of Lightning Dust still splayed against the far wall, staring right back at you through strands of unkempt fire-orange mane
  4767. >You don’t pity her
  4768. >You don’t hate her anymore and you don’t want her dead, knowing now why she did what she did
  4769. >But what she did was betray this nation, this perfect pillar built atop so much sludge, and no amount of retribution will ever be enough to redeem that act
  4770. >Fluffing out your wings, you launch yourself down the hallway at top speed, leaving the Conciliary Wing behind you in the dust
  4771. >There are more slumped unconscious figures up ahead; more guards who never stood a chance against this kind of power
  4772. >Neither will you, if you can’t get out of this building before the witch finds a different way to inhibit your progress
  4773. >You COULD simply pick a window and smash through it, but the slight chance that there might be a Canterian gunner ship waiting outside to turn you into meat paste has now become an absolute certainty in your mind
  4774. >This is… this is too much
  4775. >All of this is just… you don’t even understand how you…
  4776. >You push against yourself at the intersection of two corridors, coming to a fluttering halt in the air
  4777. >Your heart is racing faster than you can count the beats, and icy beads of sweat soak your mane and face
  4778. >This is all really, truly happening
  4779. >Your teeth are gritted
  4780. >This is not an extension of some terrible dream out of which you haven’t managed to thread your way yet
  4781. >Your muscles are burning, tense, chafing against one another
  4782. >This is all something that… that would have happened with or without you
  4783. >It was beyond your control from the start
  4784. >Nothing you could have done, nothing, nothing…
  4785. >And now your only comrades, the Wunderbolts, are out there now, they’re being TARGETED, while everypony else is panicked and confused, while all the armed forces are huddled against one another, unable to even perceive the full scope of this thing
  4786. >They are… are…
  4787. >No
  4788. >Not without a fight
  4789. >You look around; this crossroads leads directly into the central atrium of the Kongresskammer
  4790. >Far below you, on a lower-level outcropping hedged across from the entrance to the East Wing, you spot what you’re searching for: a passed-out Stormwing decked in ceremonial gear
  4791. >You swoop low, coming to a lazy stop on the carpeted balcony, and hunch over the incapacitated stallion
  4792. >Spitfire must be pursuing you already at the very least; you have to make this quick
  4793. >First, you swipe the comm-piece out of the Stormwing’s ear and plant it into your own, and are unsurprised to hear nothing but static
  4794. >Communications are still being jammed… looks like you won’t be contacting the Wunderbolts that way
  4795. >But that’s not the only reason you came down here; you waste no time in stripping the stallion of his helm, barrelplate, and leg braces
  4796. >Hastily strapping the gilded garments onto your own form, you’re achingly aware of how big they are on you
  4797. >Luckily, you aren’t looking for comfort, but rather for a semi-convincing disguise
  4798. >Trixie’s no-ships, if they’re even still operational after she took a bullet to the dome, aren’t targeting the PAS military as far as you’ve surmised
  4799. >Controlling, yes, but there’d be no point in killing them if the Canterian Chancellor wants his “peaceful transition of power”
  4800. >Even if this disguise only works for a few moments, you reason while fastening the leather strap of the plumed helmet across your chin… even for that long, you’d at least be able to leave the building
  4801. >That’s assuming that Trixie doesn’t—
  4802. >(“Tr-tr-trixie can s-s-s-seee you, d-d-d-d-daughter of Hurricane-cane-cane”)
  4803. >The sensation is mind-splitting, enough to make you want to vomit
  4804. >Her voice is INSIDE your head
  4805. >That witch is… she’s a living headache
  4806. >A nightmare given form
  4807. >(“S-s-see where you are, Trix-ix-ixie doesn’t know-ow what you’re d-DOING back there, but Trixie sees the sh-sh-sha-ape of your magic-ic in the fire of PERICLES”)
  4808. >Even after all that, her magic-amplifying helmet is working, albeit a little degraded
  4809. >But if she can’t see what you’re wearing, then she can’t know—
  4810. >(“See-see-see-ee where you ARE”)
  4811. >It takes too long for you to recognize the strange vectors before your eyes
  4812. >Violet hyperbolas, a spider web of terrible lines that never cross
  4813. >Out of the blurry light at the focal point of that magical array comes a narrow silhouette, and it comes just a second too soon to dodge
  4814. >Even with all your strength of mind, you can’t bring yourself to activate the Element in time
  4815. >The sharp shadow comes careening towards you, and a few moments after it passes your sight you begin to feel a vicious pain in your left wither
  4816. >SHNK
  4817. “Hunngh!”
  4818. >You drop down, your hooves crumbling under your weight, and divert your gaze to the center of the pain, where something jagged and long sticks out just above your wing joint at a crooked angle
  4819. >Dark blood seeps out of the spot, dying and matting your coat and dribbling between the intricate designs of the barrelplate
  4820. “Hunh… ughun….”
  4821. >You gasp for breath, continuing to examine the wound but wasting no time in plotting your way off this balcony before another attack comes
  4822. >The gilded surface of the plate is cracked below the wound, meaning the thing must have been aimed at your chest before ricocheting off your protective armor
  4823. >Although the blood runs fast, it’s only a shallow wound; if you hadn’t donned this armor when you did, you’d be dead right now, with a piece of metal lodged in your aorta
  4824. >The sharp “thing”, upon closer examination, looks familiar
  4825. >Straining your shoulder, you crane your neck about your body to get a better view, and secure your right hoof against the object as ballast for what’s to come
  4826. >You grit your teeth, but you don’t dare close your eyes
  4827. >You need to see to take care of yourself
  4828. >With the base of your frog, you pull sharply up, and the rush of pain intensifies as the dark metal fragment exits your flesh
  4829. “Hnnnnnnnnn…”
  4830. >Tears well in your eyes, but you blink them away
  4831. >The bloody shape crashes down to the floor, and as soon as it bounces into view you know precisely what you’re seeing
  4832. >It’s the very same hooked scorpion’s blade that once adorned the tip of Time Turner’s prehensile tail, and rather than lying on the floor in Hurricane’s office it’s here, a weapon sent tunneling through space with momentum enough to kill
  4833. >Teleportation… those violet vectors, they were her attempts at teleporting small objects to incapacitate you
  4834. >You never paid much mind to history lessons at the Academy, but from what little you’ve retained you seem to recall that teleportation is a lost art among the horned land-dwellers
  4835. >Apparently it’s been found… or maybe Trixie is only capable of performing such a spell through Pericles
  4836. >Either way, the danger has just multiplied tenfold, and you honestly can’t figure out how to proceed
  4837. >The witch can see your magic… she sees the shape of the Element embedded in your hoof, she KNOWS intrinsically where you are at all times
  4838. >She knows this accurately enough to transport killing weapons directly at your heart
  4839. >Gorgons… this is just too much…
  4840. >Too much…
  4841. >(She’s falling, falling and you can’t save her if you could only go beyond that threshold but it’s too much too much)
  4842. “No.”
  4843. >It’s never too much
  4844. >Never more than you can handle if you simply handle it
  4845. >There’s no impediment that the pegasus cannot overcome to reach its ideal, that niche of nature
  4846. >The apex
  4847. >You are Rainbow Dash, you can do this, you can leave this place and you can find your father and you can…
  4848. “I can make that bitch pay.”
  4849. >Your wings hurt tremendously when you leap off the marble landing and spread them wide for flight, but you simply endure the pain
  4850. >It hurts far less when you think about the hurt you’re going to inflict…
  4851.  
  4852. ******
  4853.  
  4854. >By the time you’re out from under the great blackness of Pegasopolis, something else is already preventing you from seeing the sun
  4855. >A great fat layer of dark cumulonimbus clouds has swept across the city, engulfing everything in a dense electric fog
  4856. >You are Soarin… well, Acting Captain-Lieutenant Soarin
  4857. >But right now, you feel no more in charge of the situation than any of your comrades
  4858. >Hell, you may as well be one of the citizens up there, dazed and confused by what you can only hope is a well-ordered invasion force
  4859. >Surrounded by your Canterian Seventh (minus Silverwing, whose death you’ve still barely begun to process) you sweep through the air in loose formation, keeping close to the arc of the city’s convex underside
  4860. >Despite severely limiting visibility, these thunderclouds have already aided you twofold
  4861. >For starters, these “support” wires holding up the city, which must only be a few microns in diameter, were invisible to the naked eye just a few minutes ago
  4862. >In this thicket of cloud cover, however, you can plainly see where the wires “cut” the fog, leaving long, wispy white trails of moving steam in their wake
  4863. >They’re arranged in a neat grid, spaced about twenty-five meters apart; it was only a matter of time before somepony came into contact with one
  4864. >If you had known about their existence, if the Chancellor had ordered ANY kind of intel-gathering before this invasion sequence, then Silverwing would still be alive right now
  4865. >You shake your head, dispelling those thoughts along with the droplets of cold water that have condensed in your mane
  4866. >None of that is worth thinking about until this job is done, and the Wunderbolts are dispatched with
  4867. >Speaking of the Stormwing elite, the second advantage this sudden cloud cover provided was that it completely erased the direct sightline the enemy had of your squad’s approach
  4868. >You would’ve been toast once you got in range of their guns, but now that you’re where they were the last time you saw them, they seem to have disappeared
  4869. >Retreated back to the nest…
  4870. “Thunder Nine, form up!”
  4871. >You shout into the fog, and soon the hazy silhouettes flying alongside you like myriad shadows hedge closer, and their identities become clear
  4872. >Their faces, too, are wrought with varying degrees of anger, shock, and sadness
  4873. >Prism Glider, who witnessed Silverwing’s bisection firsthoof alongside you, seems particularly sullen and preoccupied
  4874. >You have to act the Captain, YOU…
  4875. >They’re all hovering around you now, and you have to say something
  4876. >After a moment, you speak into the grey mist, your breath condensing in a puff with each syllable
  4877. “The Wunderbolts have most likely retreated back topside. They have the high ground advantage again. If we try flying up to the city level now, and the cloud cover dispels, we’ll be torn apart. But we don’t have much of a choice in that matter, since the alternative is retreat, and this is the best opportunity we’ll ever get.”
  4878. >”How can we even be sure that Spitfire and the unicorn successfully acquired Hurricane?”
  4879. “We can’t. At least not until comms resume. But since the unicorn is the one doing the jamming, it’s safe to say that she’s still in action and still has a handle on the situation. Spitfire rendezvous’d with her over an hour ago, so she has to be safe too. If everything’s going according to timetable, General Hurricane should be en route to Highstorm Port for extraction right now, in the custody of our other asset.”
  4880. >Lieutenant Snowflake, who’s fluttering across from you in the pale mist, raises her visor and exposes bloodshot and darkened eyes
  4881. >”Th…this doesn’t…”
  4882. >You quickly direct your gaze to her, trying your best to ignore the shimmering carapace of Pegasopolis’ underside looming over you
  4883. “What is it, Lieutenant?”
  4884. >”This… doesn’t make any sense! None of this does! If the General has already been removed from the city, we’ve won, haven’t we? The time it would take for them to reorganize after something like that, it wouldn’t require all this! Why are we targeting this specific regiment? Why does this feel more like an assassination than an invasion?”
  4885. >You shoot Snowflake a hard look, and she quickly lowers her worrying eyes
  4886. >The rest do the same; if it were Spitfire saying the words you were saying, YOU would do the same… but you can’t
  4887. >This is all there is… just following orders
  4888. “Our part in this is a small one, but it’s an essential one. We’ve lost the element of surprise, but that doesn’t mean we just give up and start questioning why we’re here in the first place. We’re here because our country needs the job done. We’re here because THEY, up THERE—”
  4889. >You gesture broadly at the humming monstrosity overhead
  4890. ”—they wouldn’t think twice about doing it to us if they could. The Wunderbolts are young, but they’ve been trained since foalhood to kill. They’re told to kill us, they do it without question.”
  4891. >Without question…
  4892. >Yes, you’re questioning, aren’t you?
  4893. >They all are… everypony hovering about you now is questioning, trying to see through the mist
  4894. >There are forms there, shadows only, too scattered and faint to really mean anything, but you know they can all see them
  4895. >If there was only a straight path, a guideline from A to B, if it were so easy to make the hard choices, that would make you a worse person, wouldn’t it?
  4896. >But because it’s so difficult, because you question and they don’t, because you have a conscience and the ENEMY doesn’t…
  4897. “We are right. This is right. That’s all there is to it.”
  4898. >Condensation slides down your muzzle, and you shiver as a biting wind passes right through your bones
  4899. >Wordlessly, you push off the air towards the dome, not really caring if the rest follow
  4900. >But the sounds of rustling feathers all around tell you they are, and you don’t know whether to feel good or bad about that
  4901. >Silverwing…
  4902. >You all know what being a soldier means, but to die so suddenly, so senselessly…
  4903. >Somepony has to pay for that
  4904. >Shaking the moisture from your face, not sure what’s rain and what’s tears, you twirl upwards, gaining speed as you approach the darkness of the dome
  4905. >It continues to curve outward for some ways, and the lip of the structure and the overhangs of a few buildings are visible through the haze about fifty meters above your head
  4906. >Flying the short way, however, would be almost certain death; the Wunderbolts are waiting directly above, and they likely have flak backing them up
  4907. >To gain the high ground in preparation for a firefight, you’d need to go the long way, push out far enough into the haze that you couldn’t be seen making your way above the lip
  4908. ”On me!”
  4909. >You shout downward into the void, twirling backwards into a somersaulting loop that sends you away from the black dome
  4910. >A square motion, just a few dozen meters out, then up again, then back… that’s all it’ll take to mask the approach
  4911. >A tight V-formation of shady figures splits the fog in your wake, first arcing past your reach, then gliding closer until they’re in strike positions
  4912. >Mimicking Spitfire, you sign wordlessly with your hooves, and three of your comrades fan out across the left flank, each following a slightly different trajectory
  4913. >They already know the drill; wait until fire commences, then move in to cover the advance from a distance
  4914. >Creating chaos is the only chance you have
  4915. >You swoop upwards, and your remaining numbers follow; this time, the characteristic “swoosh” of their motion is a bit louder than you anticipated
  4916. >The wind in your ears must be picking up, you didn’t expect this much noise or resistance from…
  4917. “STOP!”
  4918. >Once again, it takes a few moments for rational thought to catch up with your instincts
  4919. >Several of your comrades overtake you as you push rapidly against your own motion, settling into a ragged flutter in midair
  4920. >Two of them go too far, and before you can even think of calling them back down with a bark, a single shadow drives one squarely into another
  4921. >”Agh!”
  4922. >”Eungh!”
  4923. >The silhouette which just passed overhead, no doubt a Wunderbolt masked by the foggy haze, just struck the two stragglers, sending all three careening into space away from your objective
  4924. >If they anticipated your movements, they must have overestimated the distance you’d traveled, because that maneuver did NOT appear planned
  4925. “Thunder Nine! Combat ready!”
  4926. >The A70 mounted gun resting upon your shoulder flares into action, scanning the horizon (if it can even be called a horizon) for more hazy shapes
  4927. “Sandstorm! Rear up! Check what just happened!”
  4928. >”R-roger!”
  4929. >With a pant, Lieutenant Sandstorm doubles back, racing out into the unknown in the direction of the three tangled fliers
  4930. >You can only pray that the worst hasn’t already happened, but for now you have to focus on what lies ahead
  4931. >As you and everypony else drift closer and closer to the megastructure, now level with its topside, the scope of it all comes plainly into view as the obscuring fog thins slightly
  4932. >While you’d initially aimed to surface at Highstorm Port, the airship docking zone where the inside source informed you the Wunderbolts would be, that’s clearly not where you are right now
  4933. >Not that it matters much, since your targets are here, but the fact remains that you’ll have to adjust your tactics slightly
  4934. >Several brick structures, residential by the looks of them, stretch cantilevered out from the lip of the inverted dome
  4935. >While there are no enemy personnel immediately visible, several of the windows of a few of those buildings are conspicuously open
  4936. >Earlier, in the panic of it all, you managed to count about a dozen Wunderbolts looming in the distance before the fog rolled in
  4937. >Now, you suspect, they’re all holed up in those tenements, waiting for you to make the first move
  4938. >You’re playing on their home turf; that was always the case, and now it’s becoming frightfully clear that whatever they lack in combat experience, they more than make up for in knowledge of the battlefield
  4939. >The fog recedes ever more, the distant clouds becoming thinner and wispy, and the diffuse light from the setting sun changes in color from milky white to a deep, verdant yellow
  4940. >Everypony in the division is equipped with night vision equipment, but it’ll only be useful if you last long enough to make it useful
  4941. >”Soarin! Soarin, we have one!”
  4942. >The open windows black and uninviting, yet still apparently empty, you glide about to face the sound of your name in the opposite direction
  4943. >Out of the receding haze comes a large murky blob, which quickly resolves into four flying silhouettes
  4944. >Sandstorm, her glossy coat the color of the distant evening sky, approaches first, her eyes dark and resolved
  4945. >Behind her comes a tangled mass of two of yours, High Spirits and Geronimo, restraining a third pegasus wearing a uniform that’s all too familiar to you from the briefing
  4946. >She’s doing everything she can to try to free herself, to no avail; the tips of her wings are matted and bruised, and more than a few red welts are already beginning to form on her cheeks and muzzle
  4947. >Despite her combat gear and close-cropped ivy-colored mane, however, the healthy brightness of her coat betrays her youth
  4948. >She can’t be any more than eighteen or nineteen…
  4949. >”…off me, Canterian scum! Traitors to your species! Unhoof me NOW!”
  4950. >While the Wunderbolt struggles and yells, Sandstorm flutters up beside you, gesturing to approach the young pegasus
  4951. >”Looks like she got a little cocky. Saw High Spirits and Geronimo through the fog and figured she could take both of them at once. She would’ve had ‘em on surprise alone, too, if you hadn’t sent me in after.”
  4952. >You nod carefully, eyeing the windows suspiciously once more before checking to make sure the others are watching them just as diligently
  4953. >Slowly, you hover closer to the captive Wunderbolt, careful not to make any sudden movements
  4954. “They’re in those buildings, aren’t they?”
  4955. >”Ssssss!”
  4956. >The mare whips about and snarls at you, and for a moment you feel like recoiling, before reminding yourself that she alone poses no threat
  4957. “My comrades have already relieved you of your pulse trigger, as well as any other weapons you were concealing. Flying out all on your own to face us probably didn’t crack the top five best choices you’ve made in your life.”
  4958. >”Screw you! Fishface landloving goatherder, don’t even DESERVE those wings! You’ll get nothing out of me!”
  4959. >The way the young mare thrashes reminds you of a rattlesnake with its head stuck in a jar
  4960. >Maybe a different tack…
  4961. “Ahhh. I get it now. You weren’t trying to face us at all. All that fog? You figured we were still down below. So the only reason you’d try to fly out in one direction, away from the battle, away from the rest of your unit, is if you were—”
  4962. >”Don’t even suggest it, carcass-mouth! Gorgons take your eyes, I’ll pluck your wings feather by feather!”
  4963. >Feisty
  4964. >That seemed to strike a nerve
  4965. >And…
  4966. “So they ARE in those buildings?”
  4967. >”I never said—”
  4968. “You want to know something, little filly?”
  4969. >You reach into the folds of your combat vest, brandishing the hook-mounted knife there to gleam in the newfound sunlight
  4970. “One of my friends was just killed down there, beneath your ridiculous city in the sky. Torn in half, by one of the wires that hold this city afloat.”
  4971. >At that, the Wunderbolt pauses, giving High Spirits and Geronimo a bit of time to tighten their grips around her withers
  4972. >”I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
  4973. >Hm
  4974. >You haven’t got much reason to doubt her on that account
  4975. >Could it really be that the pegasi of Pegasopolis are unaware of the miracle substance beneath their city?
  4976. “Torn in half. My friend. He never even saw it coming. But YOU will.”
  4977. >You grit your teeth, trying your damdest to forget how young the glaring soldier before you really is, and wrench her muzzle up with your free hoof
  4978. “Because if you don’t give up your unit’s position right now, I will personally saw you in half, starting between your eyes and ending between your flanks, with this knife, right here. And then I’ll do it to the rest of ‘em.”
  4979. >Blood’s rushing to your brain
  4980. >For a second, you genuinely believe the words coming out of your mouth
  4981. >Silverwing, this whole Celestia-forsaken mission… and they’d deserve it, right?
  4982. >The knife is beside you, attached firmly to your outstretched hoof, and you can see the terror in her eyes…
  4983. >You want… to…
  4984. >”Soarin!”
  4985. >Sandstorm’s voice rings in your ears once more, pulling you out of the trance
  4986. >(“S-s-s-eeeee you-ou-ou”)
  4987. >Before you can react further, you feel a warmth in your hindleg, followed by the sound of a report nearby
  4988. CRACK
  4989. >No, the report came first, didn’t it? Or…
  4990. >You look down, down into the miles of space between you and the ground
  4991. >Down at dark liquid spilling down into that same void, spilling out of a matted hole where your fetlock used to be
  4992. “GnnnnnnNNN!”
  4993. >It takes several more seconds for the pain to even register, but by the time it does you’ve already fallen backwards into Geronimo’s outstretched hooves
  4994. >Everything’s moving; the sky, your comrades, the city, the Wunderbolt
  4995. >That last one’s zipping back towards those tenement windows at top speed, or at least what appears to be top speed
  4996. >Everything’s hazy, this pain is all you can concentrate on anymore
  4997. >But even with it all unfolding, you still manage to recognize the subtle sparks of light coming out of those dark holes in the brick, the staccato-sound of rapid fire projectiles arcing in every direction
  4998. >Time to… engage…
  4999. >”Soarin! Soarin, you’re hit!”
  5000. “I… worked that out… on my own, Sandstorm.”
  5001. >Through gritted teeth and strained throat, you manage to eke out those words, practically wishing you were dead rather than deal with this pain
  5002. >”Celestia above, looks like they severed a tendon.”
  5003. “Cel…est…ugh…”
  5004. >There’s a damn waterfall of blood leaving you, and you can feel the chill replacing it in your head and hooves
  5005. >Sandstorm’s doing something with her medkit below you, but you’re too busy focusing on what’s happening in front of you to care
  5006. >The rest of the Seventh are circling one another, practicing evasive maneuvers and taking every opportunity to return fire
  5007. >The three you sent out on the wing fly directly overhead in tight formation, luring a few visible tracer rounds away from the main unit as they go
  5008. >Still, they’ve got no cover at all; something’s bound to connect out there…
  5009. >Celestia, this hurts…
  5010. >(“S-s-s-eeee you, daughter of Hurricane-cane-cane”)
  5011. >They say you hear all sorts of crazy voices before you black out
  5012. >They never said those voices would sound so whiny
  5013. >”Don’t talk, Soarin. Just let me do what I’m doing.”
  5014. “Didn’t… talk… cnyoo… dodat… while flying?”
  5015. >”Part of the job. Don’t worry, it isn’t as bad as it looks. Some amphetamines and gauze, and we’ll be back in it. Just let me—”
  5016. >(“N-not the daugh-ter-ter… where is she-she-she… need Th-th-thunder nine…”)
  5017. >”I told you not to talk, Soarin! You’re only going to make this more painful than it is!”
  5018. “Wasn’t… me…”
  5019. >Sandstorm’s hearing the echoed voice, too
  5020. >Weakly, you loll your head back to meet Geronimo’s confounded gaze; he looks like he’s thinking the same thing you’re thinking
  5021. >Now, whether you’re really thinking it or not, or somepony else is thinking it for you, is another question
  5022. SHK-SHHHHHHHH
  5023. >Without anesthetics, the feeling of the syringe plunging into flesh makes you cringe, but a few seconds later it feels like nothing at all
  5024. >Your hindleg feels loose, maybe a little bit hollower than usual, but otherwise it’s much better
  5025. >Doesn’t feel like a hunk of lead just blazed through it, at least
  5026. >”Aaaaand… there. All set.”
  5027. >Head spinning, you return your attention to Sandstorm below, who’s just finished dressing your wound in a bandage that’s already begun to bleed through
  5028. >No matter; the feeling of hollow-ness has spread from your leg to your whole body
  5029. >And somehow, it’s not a bad kind of hollow
  5030. >The wind’s whistling through your every pore, you feel like… like…
  5031. >Like you should have tried these amphetamines a long time ago
  5032. >You tap Geronimo on the wither, who promptly lets you go; your wings stretch out on their own, then beat in time with your heart
  5033. >Those Wunderbolts are about to get a taste of their own—
  5034. >(“TTTTHHHHHUUUNDER NIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!”)
  5035. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
  5036. >”AHHHHHHHHHH!”
  5037. >The scream is deafening, and you’re certain now that you weren’t the only one to hear it
  5038. >Everypony, including your comrades engaged in the firefight overhead, clutch their hooves to their ears, desperate to block out the voice which seems to be emanating from everywhere at once
  5039. >Or rather, from your own brains
  5040. >(“Thunder Nine. Trix… Thunder One requires you to listen carefully.”)
  5041. >Thunder One?
  5042. >What the hell IS this?
  5043. SWOOOOOSH
  5044. >Before you can even begin to question the high-pitched mare’s voice that’s invaded your inner thoughts, you’re swept towards the dome at a terrible speed
  5045. >Something large and fast just blew you away with the sheer force of its air pressure
  5046. >(“Thunder Nine-nine-nine… Thunder One requires you to listen care-careful-ul-ully.”)
  5047. >Bewildered, you watch as the rest of the unit zooms down towards you to avoid whatever’s just disrupted the action
  5048. >And it doesn’t take much guesswork to determine what that “whatever” could be
  5049. >For just as the firing ceases from inside those buildings, its occupants probably even more confused than you are, something massive begins to return fire
  5050. >You can only watch from below as the no-ship decloaks, revealing its slick jet-like exterior, its twin cannons plowing pony-sized holes through those walls
  5051. >”Take coveeeeeeeeer!”
  5052. >The scream emanates from inside the building, of that much you can be sure
  5053. >As you imagine all those greenhorn Wunderbolts scrambling every which way to avoid the steady barrage from the no-ship, another message from your “conscience” greets you
  5054. >(“Thunder Nine… can’t… control… much longer… Pericles… too… damaged…”)
  5055. >”What in Celestia’s name is it talking about?!”
  5056. >Sandstorm, watching the hailstorm above with awe, seems to be addressing you
  5057. “You know as much as I do, Lieutenant!”
  5058. >”But…”
  5059. >(“Can’t… hold on… must get… to… the daughter of Hurricane… escaping… Staatskongress…”)
  5060. >Now that one got your attention
  5061. >Can the voice… this voice claiming to be Thunder One… can it hear you?
  5062. “Where’s Spitfire?”
  5063. >”What?”
  5064. “I’m talking to the damn voice! Where is Spitfire?!”
  5065. >(“Spi-spi-spit… Trixie doesn’t have time-ime-ime… Trixie… needs…”)
  5066. “WHERE IS SHE?!?”
  5067. >(“With… Trixie! Your captain… safe-afe… must get to… Rainbow Dash… daughter of Hurricane… Staatskongress… NOW!”)
  5068. “GAH!”
  5069. >That last word probably would’ve deafened you if you were listening to it with your ears, rather than your mind
  5070. >Whoever Thunder One is, she must be a very powerful unicorn to communicate with you from such a distance telepathically
  5071. >You’ve only heard legends of things like this happening, and none of those ever turned out so great for anypony involved…
  5072. >Could this be Pericles? Could this be what Spitfire warned you about?
  5073. >(“Patch… through-ough? This isn’t a radio, you… Trixie can’t… hagh…”)
  5074. >At once, the dual fire of the no-ship ceases
  5075. >Then, the characteristic hum of its engines turns arrhythmic and crude
  5076. >It tilts on its axis midair, and then…
  5077. >It begins to get bigger
  5078. >No, not bigger…
  5079. “MOVE!”
  5080. >Without thinking, you snatch Sandstorm by the wing and practically toss her backwards; she spirals through the air like a flying top
  5081. >Shoving Geronimo back also, you ignore the twinges of agony from your fetlock and swoop down and away from the falling jet
  5082. >Its hulking frame just barely misses you, and you’re flung back again by the cascading air pressure as it tumbles down at an angle towards the inverted dome
  5083. >(“Can’t… maintain… control… must… overcharge… Pericles…”)
  5084. >Silently, the menace of a craft spins out of control, away into the darkness beneath the shadow of monolithic Pegasopolis
  5085. >Then, just as you suspected it might, it seems to catch on something that isn’t there, before continuing on its fatal trajectory to the earth just a bit slower than before
  5086. >Before long, it appears to be wrenched apart by a massive grip, then fritters off in two cleanly bisected halves
  5087. >Away and down… even a steel plated military marvel was no match for a wire the width of a single hair
  5088. >What chance did Silverwing stand?
  5089. >(“F-fine… Trixie can see if she can… fold you into… the link…”)
  5090. SHHHHH-ZAAAAAA
  5091. >An alien-sounding hum occupies your mind for a few moments, followed by a VERY unlikely voice
  5092. >(“Soarin… SOARIN! Can you hear-ear me?”)
  5093. >Spitfire?
  5094. >(“YES! I’m in the… it doesn’t matter-atter! Rainbow Dash is go-going to Highstorm-orm Port! She’s trying to reach Target Prime before he’s evac’d!”)
  5095. >Target Prime… that’s General Hurricane
  5096. >Spitfire’s talking to you telepathically, somehow; she’s with Thunder One, the Unicronian
  5097. >Can she… hear your thoughts?
  5098. (“Ye-ye-yes, nimrod! All five of them! Now g-go! Abort-bort pursuit of secondary tar-ar-argets! FORGET THE WUNDERBOLTS!”)
  5099. >The Wunderbolts…
  5100. >Even if they weren’t blasted to bits by that no-ship, then they still can’t be in great shape
  5101. >And whatever condition they’re in, they’re right above you! You could take everypony up there now, and finish the job!
  5102. (“Negative, Soarin! Forget the Wunderbolts! Rainbow Dash is Target Prime now! Isolate, incapacitate, take any and all non-lethal measures-sures! Highstor-or-or-orm Port! GO!”)
  5103. >You heard her!
  5104. >Wait… you still need to use your mouth to speak
  5105. “You heard her! R-right?”
  5106. >”Affirmative.”
  5107. >”Roger, Acting Captain!”
  5108. >All your comrades, who have all taken to hovering in a loose semicircle around you, appear to have heard your psychic conversation with Spitfire and Thunder One
  5109. >They all look just as bewildered as Sandstorm, and probably you as well, but one thing’s for absolute certain
  5110. >The port is just around the bend of the main platform, and the daughter of General Hurricane is headed there right now to prevent his extraction
  5111. >And you’re starting to think that there’s no backup coming…
  5112. “Right. Right, then. Thunder Nine, form up on me! The Wunderbolts are no longer our prime objective! Repeat, the Wunderbolts aren’t our problem! We skirt the edge of the city, and under no circumstances do we fly directly beneath the dome! We move right now, and we just might… aw, no.”
  5113. >Distinctly equine movement attracted your attention out of the corner of your eye
  5114. >Eight or nine sulking shapes emerge from the smoking craters the no-ship left behind in the tenements above
  5115. >Eight or nine mares, all clad in that familiar black and blue, all clearly struggling to maintain their balance
  5116. >All looking directly down at you
  5117. “We move. Now.”
  5118. >You take flight, propelling your whole body off of the wind, and the rest of the squadron follows suit
  5119. >Rapid fire rounds whiz between you and your comrades, but you can’t be bothered to care now
  5120. >The Wunderbolts, if they’re capable of it, are the ones giving chase now
  5121. >Cloud are forming again, this time far darker than they were before
  5122. >And they aren’t mere thunder clouds; they’re bathed in a strange blue light, and materializing all around you far more rapidly than should be possible
  5123. >A storm is silently brewing, and you have a pegasus to find
  5124. >Spitfire… what have you gotten us into?
  5125.  
  5126. >The disguise worked, but not in the way you expected
  5127. >All around you, up and down Avemequus Square, hundreds of pegasi are scattering in every direction
  5128. >The pitiful military presence remaining hover at their pre-assigned key positions, feebly attempting to maintain order to no avail
  5129. >In this clunky ornamental getup, you might pass for one of them
  5130. >And so far, you haven’t been turned into meat paste by one of that witch’s invisible choppers, have you?
  5131. >That has to mean you’re doing something right
  5132. >You are Rainbow Dash, daughter of Hurricane
  5133. >Whatever path you’ve carved for yourself, whatever niche you’ve discovered that suits you, this will always be your birthright
  5134. >And yet… birthrights can be taken and given so easily, can’t they?
  5135. >Time Turner proved as much to you when he willingly hoofed over the artifact of immense power now firmly fixed in the cup of your right forehoof
  5136. >This Element, which has been passed down through his family for generations in secret, a thousand year hidden dynasty tracing all the way back to King Kabardian, the first Exsilist
  5137. >Traced down an infinite line intersecting time at all angles… you won’t even pretend to remember what the images Time Turner conjured in your trance-state made you feel
  5138. >Loyalty, you suppose… loyalty to a destiny you’ve never known, but which is apparently just as much yours as it is his
  5139. >Why you?
  5140. >He CHOSE you, that much is clear… he specifically singled you out to grant you the power of slowed time
  5141. >It’s a question you’ll be asking yourself for all twelve seconds of your remaining life
  5142. >Hastily, you scan the skyline, searching for great big looming aircraft, but you find none
  5143. >They ARE invisible, after all, or so says the enemy
  5144. >It could all just be one massive bluff, but you aren’t ready to take that risk
  5145. “Let’s see… Highstorm Port… Highstorm Port…”
  5146. >Your sense of direction has been completely screwed by the illusion field Trixie cast on the interior of Staatskongress
  5147. >Couple that with the blood you’re losing from this blade-shaped wound above your wing, and the still-lingering headache from being knocked unconscious, and you’re surprised you can even tell which way is up
  5148. >But Highstorm Port is at the northernmost tip of the platform, and north is…
  5149. >(North is where she fell and you couldn’t stop her)
  5150. >That way
  5151. >You peer down the long boulevard of slick marble buildings stretching from the square all the way down to the gardens at the Cloudsdalia district
  5152. >Too many pegasi to count are already being funneled in that direction, whipped up into a frenzy from that message from the Chancellor which seems to have stopped now
  5153. >They’re trying to evacuate… they all want out of the city before whatever happens happens
  5154. >It’s not exactly unreasonable, but you never would’ve guessed that the PAS would be this fragile
  5155. >It’s always been a marble edifice in your mind; unshakable, immobile, standing above all the rest
  5156. >And now, without an army or even a bomb, the Canterians are rending the city to pieces
  5157. >After adjusting the straps on your ill-fitting armor, you blend in with the flow of panicking traffic, silently wincing from the pain of squeezing your wound every time you flap your wings
  5158. >(“See-ee-ee you-ou…”)
  5159. >Trixie’s voice still lingers in the recesses of your mind, but you ignore it and keep moving
  5160. >She’s bluffing; even though she’s proven that she has a rough psychic picture of your current location, her hyperbola-shaped teleportation spell takes so long to initiate that she can’t possibly hit you with anything before you’re a dozen meters from where you started
  5161. >If she could take you out with another precise blow, she would’ve done so already
  5162. >So either she’s totally out of options, or she’s got something else planned…
  5163. >The long concrete tiles rush beneath you as you swerve downwards, avoiding the thickest part of the crowd and sweeping between two hastily-constructed steel fences
  5164. >The bulk of the city guard, far ahead, look to be checking IDs as the thronging masses attempt to make their way through their checkpoints, but it’s a hopeless endeavor
  5165. >For every pony who’s getting carded, three more are slipping by, and there’s nothing the guard can do to prevent it
  5166. >Still, this is going to take too long
  5167. >You can’t fly up, above the rooftops; that’ll only mark you out for Trixie’s gunships
  5168. >And you can’t get made by one of those guards, since you still have absolutely no way of knowing the scope of this operation
  5169. >There could be a traitor to the PAS on every street corner, more operatives disguised as guards, the works
  5170. >And they’re all going to be looking for YOU
  5171. >You touch down on a raised divider in the middle of the avenue, trying in vain to collect your thoughts, to determine your next move
  5172. >Your shadow, elongated monstrously by the setting of the sun, is crossed several times a second by those of the aerial passersby above you
  5173. >Although, now that you’re looking at it more closely, you can’t help but notice that it’s begun to grow pale and insubstantial
  5174. >Light is fading rapidly, and everything’s begun to turn a deep blue shade from the storm clouds roiling in the city’s midst
  5175. >The weather dispersal units are malfunctioning, probably sabotaged… perfect
  5176. >Actually… it might just BE perfect!
  5177. >Rejuvenated, you peer upwards to see that many of the screaming civilians have begun to bump into one another due to lack of visibility
  5178. >This inclement weather can only be a good thing for you, if it gives you a clear shot to Highstorm Port ABOVE the skyline
  5179. >Your sense of direction, disoriented as you may be right now, is one of your greatest strengths as a flier, and you foresee no difficulties in making it to the port through this dense electric fog
  5180. >But you need to move NOW, and there’s no need for this guard armor weighing you down anymore
  5181. >You remove the ornate bronze plates, then thrust powerfully with your wings, bearing the pain as you rise, first one story, then two, then three…
  5182. >Then you’re level with the stream of the crowd, avoiding a particularly nasty tangle of about eight fliers smashing into one another, blind to one another’s trajectories
  5183. >Then you can see the tiled roofs of some of the lower municipal buildings, then those of the high rises, and then…
  5184. >You’re free
  5185. >Free to the wind, free in a sea of cerulean clouds, your internal compass the only thing keeping you oriented towards the port
  5186. >Just a kilometer or so north-northwest of here, and you’ll start to see the tethered blimps rising from that flat embankment…
  5187. >You zoom off in that direction, your naked mane and tail streaking behind you, wet from the condensation of this fog
  5188. >Droplets of mist obscure your vision, but you blink them away rapidly, straining your features against the whipping wind
  5189. >Just a kilometer…
  5190. >You stretch your forehooves before you, letting them shield you, letting the air flow around you
  5191. >It’s more aerodynamic this way, and you can immediately tell the difference
  5192. >You strain against all the confines of yourself, because now is the moment, now is the time that you’re allowed to go all out, to make up for what happened way back then
  5193. >(When she fell)
  5194. >Now, more than ever, this Element affixed to your hoof, its crimson energy crackling through your very soul, you feel capable of earning the mark on your flank
  5195. >(And you didn’t catch her)
  5196. >Faster than lightning, more potent than a thunderclap
  5197. >(You could have broken the limit)
  5198. >And you will!
  5199. >You WILL!
  5200. “GO!”
  5201. >The spray of the mist turns to the sting of rain as the clouds grow heavier still, and within only a few seconds it begins to pour
  5202. >Your coat is matted, and your speed begins to diminish, but you don’t let up
  5203. >Your wings are thrashing like turbines now, the pain in your wither long forgotten
  5204. >Everything is focused on a narrow point at the center of your vision; infinite lines drawn out of the ends of space into a bead of light screaming for you to come closer
  5205. >The light is as red as blood, red as the Element, and you can do nothing before you reach it
  5206. >A light… two lights…
  5207. >A crack of lightning, as crystal blue as the clouds obscuring it
  5208. >The rumble of distant thunder, blocking out briefly the constant patter of the storm on your bones
  5209. >An ear-splitting siren from below, which you can only guess is a warning to all those who still haven’t got the memo
  5210. >The apocalypse is here…
  5211. >You straighten your posture, tense your muscles against the rising of the cold front, and blast forth with renewed resolve
  5212. >Your bearings must be slightly off, you can’t believe you haven’t seen at least one dirigible by now
  5213. >Maybe you could reduce altitude, if only for a moment, just to see if the port is still—
  5214. >(“FOUND YOU, DAUGHTER OF HURRICANE!”)
  5215. SHA-DOOOOOM
  5216. >Mind and body, violated in tandem
  5217. >A snake of hot blue electricity cracks across the sky, arcing so close to your face that you can feel the steam of vaporized rain sear your muzzle as you pass through it
  5218. “Agh!”
  5219. >The voice was psychic, sounding like it came from all directions at once
  5220. >Storm clouds ripple across your vision faster than the eye can perceive; no, they’re changing into SOMETHING, something recognizable
  5221. >For your part, you slow yourself, conscious of just how dangerous your surroundings really are
  5222. >That arc of lightning didn’t nearly electrocute you by accident
  5223. >Hell, it wasn’t even lightning at all
  5224. >And for that matter, this whole storm is no storm
  5225. >That’s something you should have figured out before you flew all the way up here, so desperate to find your father that you forgot the first lesson that they teach you at the Academy
  5226. >Never fly blind…
  5227. >Before you, towering perhaps a hundred meters, is the face of the witch, Trixie the Unicronian, composed entirely of undulating blue clouds
  5228. >At first glance, it might look like a trick of the eye, but she’s there; her pointed muzzle, her sneering lips, her ears, her flowing mane leaving trails of nimbus in its wake
  5229. >And her eyes, twin red auroras, the same that you believed you’d been imagining before, are pointed directly at you
  5230. >She’s made a clearing in the skies, just big enough for you to take in her entire twisted visage, and for you to take stock of the sheer scope of this cataclysm she’s summoned
  5231. >Blue lightning cascades across the surface of the dark cloud cover like a wave, illuminating Trixie’s gleeful face from every angle
  5232. >Far below you, the highest crowns of smoldering buildings stand out like volcanic crags from an ocean, the victims of her electric death storm
  5233. >Great Gorgons… you’d thought that she…
  5234. >(”Thought that I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, would be crippled by a bullet? Is that what you thought, Rainbow Dash?”)
  5235. >The rain continues to soak you, weighing you down as you float in place
  5236. >For what must be the fifth time today, you’re left at an utter loss for words
  5237. >You feel foolish… so, so foolish…
  5238. >(”As you should, daughter of Hurricane. All this could have been avoided. You should have listened to the Exsilist. You should have allowed yourself to be what the Chancellor wanted you to be. Now, you’ve given Trixie no choice but to do what is necessary.”)
  5239. “Trixie… can’t keep this up forever.”
  5240. >The clouds sneer at you, baring their menacing teeth, each several stories high
  5241. >(”True. Trixie has had to push the Pericles device beyond its prescribed capacity, especially after you saw fit to defile it. But the idea of an EMP shockwave doesn’t bother Trixie in the least. It will only kill this stain of a city faster.”)
  5242. “What, and risk your Chancellor finding out that you turned his prize into ash? You don’t have the guts, hornhead.”
  5243. >(”You know NOTHING about who or what Trixie is, daughter of Hurricane! And you know nothing of the arcane! KKYYYSXYKLLYX EXUUYMMENOSSSS KAABA!!!”)
  5244. >Open-mouthed, a maw stretched wide across space, the great imitation head shudders, then flickers in a dozen different places
  5245. >The air is polarized, and the raindrops seem to stand motionless in the face of the coming vibrations
  5246. >Whatever’s about to happen, it isn’t something you want to be around for
  5247. >(”ZAA’DUUM!!”)
  5248. >Crimson waves pour from your heart
  5249. >Across time and space, the effect permeates every substance, every particle, every waveform
  5250. >Frames of motion, toppling over frames of motion
  5251. >And just like that, everything is slowed to a crawl; the Element reacted even before your instincts did
  5252. >You’ve regained enough energy to use it in this way for several more seconds, and you aren’t about to waste them in the face of what’s coming
  5253. >Indeed, each of the flickers of light you saw materialize inside the giant head have grown in intensity, and incandescent bolts of blue magic have already begun to zip across the clearing directly at you
  5254. >Having gotten thoroughly used to the way you move in this state, you glide upwards, feeling the power of the Element surge through every fiber of your being
  5255. >The bolts are bridging the gap between you and Trixie at a surprising rate, but it’s nothing compared to what you can do
  5256. >You swerve to dodge the first one as it passes close to you, once again vaporizing the stationary water particles in its path, leaving a trail of clear steam
  5257. >The next one arcs down, then up again, making it more difficult to predict; you gasp as you roll sideways, kept aloft more by the latent energy within you than by the lift of your wings
  5258. >Each imitation lightning bolt galvanizes the air as it passes, ending in the rift of clouds behind you, but despite their unpredictable twists they’re all ultimately aimed at the same spot
  5259. >A spot which you no longer occupy
  5260. >When all is said and done, the face in the clouds, now bathed in a hellish red light, is stretched open in a silent scream of exertion
  5261. >It almost seems to remind you of something… a face in the clouds, the light of the sunset
  5262. >Like a dream you once had, and have long since forgotten…
  5263. >(Perhaps it’s the intent that mattered)
  5264. >The waves recede, and time resumes its standard pace
  5265. >Gradually, the feeling returns to your nerves, that of the constant weight of each of your actions
  5266. >When there’s no energy left in your muscles, when all the strength has been sapped out of you, you won’t be able to rely on the Element any longer
  5267. >The only thing left to rely on will be your conviction
  5268. >Your superiority over all others…
  5269. SHA-DOOOOOOOOM
  5270. >The furious magic dissipates, but you remain
  5271. >The glowing eyes of that monolithic face shift their focus, as though adjusting to relocate you
  5272. >Once they have, the voice in your head and all around you groans and snarls
  5273. >(”Youuuuuu… you can’t keep THAT up forever, Rainbow Dashhhhh…”)
  5274. “You don’t know my limits.”
  5275. >(”But you have a limit; that much is clear to Trixie. Trixie doesn’t yet know how you’ve managed to perform such ancient magic, nor why you exude such a potent aura… but when Trixie brings your limp body back to the Chancellor in chains, Trixie will have all the time in the world to learn.”)
  5276. “We’ll see.”
  5277. >With that, you whip about, throwing yourself into the raging storm below
  5278. >With the few building tops visible as reference points, you shift your body weight and fight the wind towards where you know your destination must be
  5279. >A raging cry echoes in your wake, but you’re done with talking to heads in the clouds
  5280. >Screams meld into the cacophony of the violent quasi-storm as you veer even further left, and a low rhythmic noise like battle drums joins into the symphony of mayhem
  5281. BOOM DA-DOOM DA-BOOM
  5282. >It starts off as a light rumble, then gradually overtakes all the other noises from below; though the constant rumble of thunder continues to best it
  5283. >You should know that sound, though you’ve never heard it so close to the city; they’re the anti-aircraft artillery positioned along the rim of the main platform, all booming in tandem
  5284. >The defense forces must have finally gotten wise to the show of force; that sound can only be a good thing
  5285. >And if they even have targets to fire on, that means that the witch’s no-ships must be decloaked!
  5286. >You really did a number on that ridiculous chrome eggshell of hers!
  5287. “But she can still summon storms.”
  5288. >Speaking of, a red light twinkles somewhere in the distant torrent
  5289. >At first, you brace yourself to activate the Element once again, and dig deep into whatever reserves you’ve got left to dodge an incoming strike
  5290. >But this time, rather than twinkle and spasm, the light resolves as you move closer and closer towards it, and layer after layer of blue cloud dissipates
  5291. >Then, you see it blink
  5292. “Yes…”
  5293. >You knew you would make it
  5294. >You knew you still had time
  5295. >Time, the one true source of supremacy on this earth
  5296. >Where all other species of the sky have fallen to time, the pegasus persevered
  5297. >Where these corruptible pegasi have fallen to their fear of the passage of time, of change and new growth for their kind, the PAS have stood high, an unmoving edifice upon a mountain of rock
  5298. >Time behind, time ahead… and now, where all others have failed, you understand, is that they could not have seen their dooms coming to them in the time they were allotted
  5299. >The Makers, the Old Exsilists, the Canterian Empire, they were shattered by the great inhibition of time’s arrow colliding with the post at the end of it all
  5300. >If every frame of their dominions were strung together seamlessly, and the motions between them were imperceptible and continuous, then it should seem they would never be bested, for the flight would never end
  5301. >But they were all destroyed by time precisely BECAUSE they were limited to that seamless motion
  5302. >And no matter what, no matter if the PAS falls to the same fate now, no matter if the whole world crumbles around you, no matter if the storm takes your mother, or you lose your friend to fear, or some new fate you can’t predict befalls you…
  5303. >Time is now yours, and yours alone
  5304. >The frames of motion are visible now, distinct from one another, integer values
  5305. >You can count from one to the next, and it’s the Element that’s granted you that power
  5306. >It’s faith in the power of this thing, it’s Loyalty, it’s…
  5307. >It’s Time
  5308. >Precious seconds, to see with your very own eyes the dirigible, its great mass of stretched fabric trembling in the downpour, its engines surging with all their might
  5309. >Its warning beams flare red, then black, then red again, a constant blinking beacon through all this chaos
  5310. >A thunderclap illuminates a taut black mooring line, extending all the way down to the shining surface of Highstorm Port
  5311. >Across the sheen, the perfectly flat section of Pegasopolis Platform ends, a false horizon beyond which a drop of miles awaits
  5312. >But the dirigible is still here, and it’s barely lifted from the surface
  5313. >It must be, it must…
  5314. >You whirl about, relieving yourself of the weight of the water you’ve accumulated in your wings and coat, and dash downwards at breakneck speed
  5315. >Lightning again, showing you the black maw of open bay doors
  5316. >You can make it you can…
  5317. >Squinting, you practically crash against the upper bulwark of the dock, only just managing to prevent yourself from crashing headlong into an anchor needle
  5318. >You slide along the wet, flat surface, whipping your soaked mane out of your eyes once more
  5319. >Your eyes… they’re burning
  5320. >Gorgons, he’s here, he must be here he must be…
  5321. “DAD! DAD!”
  5322. >They’re taking him, and once they’ve taken him and once they have him in the air there won’t be any stopping…
  5323. >Somehow, your heart sinks even lower, into depths you previously thought unimaginable
  5324. >You feel lost in all this, lost in the rain, in the plans, in the motions of destinies
  5325. >Time Turner’s using you, and he’s the closest damn thing you have to a friend in the world right now
  5326. >Those Canterians wanted you as a puppet… YOU, a thing to be tossed around from handler to handler, made to serve a cruel mockery of your father’s dream
  5327. >Everypony expects something from you, NEEDS something from you, YOU most of all
  5328. >You needed to be… to be… somepony of your own
  5329. >Not reliant, not even expectant, of any special treatment just because of some nebulous birthright
  5330. >A warrior, a fighter and victor of battles
  5331. >A flier, and a death-defiant
  5332. “DAAAAAAAAAAD!!!”
  5333. >You call out towards the dirigible even as you race on hoof towards its black carapace
  5334. >Your heart is pounding in time with the guns to either side of you
  5335. >No personnel in sight, nopony to help you
  5336. >You never needed any help, but now… where are they?
  5337. >Where are the loyal devotees to this thing, this movement, this brotherhood?
  5338. >They’re all scrambling over one another to leave at the first sight of danger!
  5339. >Or holed up in Militarbezirk, awaiting a frontal assault that’s never coming!
  5340. >No, the battle’s been fought and won, and the spoils are here, being carted off even as you chase them down, and you’re the ONLY one!
  5341. >You want to cry out for help, you want to scream in desperation
  5342. >But you already know that it’ll do you no good
  5343. >The gunners are engaged with the decloaked ships, and they’re too preoccupied with their own glory to notice that they’re battling a distraction
  5344. >A distraction!
  5345. “You’re battling a distraction!”
  5346. >Your throat trembles, sore, hoarse, run raw from the endless conversations
  5347. >The fighting, the running, the damage, the strain
  5348. >Weakness in your bones
  5349. >Weakness in your heart
  5350. >And before you know it, you’re facedown in a puddle
  5351. >Your muzzle scrapes against the smooth concrete, and you feel your wounded wing send shockwaves of agony down your spine
  5352. >You’ve come to the limit of it all; your muscles are on fire, your heart’s outpacing the guns now, your ears are ringing from the persistence of the noise, your mind is addled, your blood is rushing to your stomach
  5353. >Warm breath meets cold air, and turns to white smoke against your eyes
  5354. >It’s… it’s…
  5355. “N-no…”
  5356. >No!
  5357. >Not now!
  5358. >Not ever!
  5359. >Beyond it all, beyond the well of energy they taught you to harness when you’re at your lowest in the Academy, beyond even the deepest recesses of that crystalline fragment fixed to your frog, there is another source of energy
  5360. >Greater than your desire to save your father, greater than your desire to see the PAS live on, for Canterium to crumble…
  5361. >Greater than the white sunset
  5362. >Greater than Loyalty…
  5363. >Bones scraping against bones, ligaments wailing, mind stretched to a thin sheet, you rise onto all four shaking hooves, and wipe the water out of your nostrils
  5364. >You’ve worked up quite a sweat, haven’t you, Rainbow?
  5365. “Ha… ha… hah…”
  5366. >You take a step forward, followed by another step
  5367. >Followed by a canter, then a gallop
  5368. >You fold your wings against your flanks and run wild, bleeding, yet full of life, towards that dirigible before you
  5369. >Towards the open bay door, towards the silhouettes within
  5370. >Your mind is so far gone, you don’t even need the context of what’s happening in front of your eyes
  5371. >All you see is a hulking obstacle, and you’re going to pass through it
  5372. SHA-DOOOOOOOM
  5373. >Light from the false lightning illuminates the interior of the dirigible’s holding bay
  5374. >Even from this great distance, you see his mane, his coat, ever so slightly darker than your own
  5375. >You see the chains of steel slumped about his sturdy form, the lengths to which they needed to go to restrain him
  5376. >You see a ragged uniform, damaged in what must have been a hell of a skirmish
  5377. >You see a proud thing, in need of liberation
  5378. >Perhaps, if you were just a little closer, you could see those steely amber eyes, staring back into your own with a dark determination
  5379. >The eyes of Bow Hothoof, of General Hurricane
  5380. >Of your father
  5381. >Before you can call out to him again, the massive iron bay door begins swinging slowly upward, and the mooring line tethering the body of the dirigible to the platform is swiftly cut
  5382. >Either they’ve noticed your approach, or you’re right on schedule
  5383. “DAD! NO!”
  5384. >You struggle to mete out the words through the fog and hail, for that’s what the downpour’s practically become in this bitter cold
  5385. >Shards of blue ice beat against your back, and out of that pool of energy whose source you can’t even fathom comes another burst that propels you forward
  5386. >Your vision narrows in on that picture of your father, clad in chains, which is rapidly turning into a sliver as the doorway between you narrows
  5387. >In one fluid motion, you kick off of an icy flagpole, driving yourself into a lean figure racing towards the small wedge in the bay
  5388. “DAD!”
  5389. >This time, the chained figure stirs at the sound of your voice, glancing up and peering through the shadows
  5390. >Though no shining bolt lights his features this time, you’re certain it’s him solely in the way that he moves
  5391. >That stallion, who wasn’t there in your earliest years, who sought his own path
  5392. >Who returned to you, and brought you back into the fold, into this bold new world of his own fashioning
  5393. >You have to repay that chance
  5394. >After all, what would be left of you without him?
  5395. >By a matter of inches, your trajectory carries you through a gap between the door and the framework, and all at once the weight lifts from your body
  5396. >The weight of the downpour, the weight of the cold, the weight of time
  5397. >In the cool interior of the lumbering dirigible, which has only now begun its proper ascent, you stumble and fall to the whining metal floor of the cargo hold
  5398. >You’re inside; you’ve made it
  5399. >You’ve made it!
  5400. >Your wings flutter automatically behind you, sending a rush of pain into your back but otherwise relieving your remaining tension
  5401. >Remember who you are, and where you are…
  5402. >Rainbow Dash, Captain Rainbow Dash of the Wunderbolts…
  5403. >And here, bathed in harsh green neon, the airy space of the cargo hold contains but one other occupant
  5404. >He’s dressed in equal portions of shadow and light, and he’s staring right back into your bloodshot eyes with a look of silent desperation
  5405. >He’s… he’s scared
  5406. >Not for himself, but for you
  5407. >You rush over to your father, and without even thinking of what it could cost you inside, you embrace him with all your might
  5408. >It’s never been easy to do this, not even in the earliest days, and it’s only grown more and more difficult with time, and that surging feeling of independence that’s marked your growth from filly to warrior
  5409. >It’s always been about this, about how he’s looked after you
  5410. >Not about how he left, but about how he RETURNED
  5411. >Triumphant
  5412. >You bury your muzzle into his chilled form, wishing that he could return your grip, knowing that if he weren’t so bound, he surely would
  5413. >It’s always been about this, it’s always…
  5414. >”Rain… bow…”
  5415. >His syllables are ragged and weak, unbefitting of a leader
  5416. >But it doesn’t matter, because this time there are no crowds to weigh his every word in their hooves
  5417. >Only you…
  5418. >”Go… go…”
  5419. “No, Dad. I’m here. I got out. They couldn’t stop me! Not even the witch! They had me, a-and I got out, and w-we have to get you out of here!”
  5420. >”Go… he’s… here…”
  5421. “Who’s here? Dad, there’s no time! Whoever’s piloting this thing, I can take them! A-and it doesn’t matter, we just have to get you out of these chains, none of it matters except for these chains! I can break them with… with… I’ll show you! You won’t understand, but I’ll show you, I can break anything now with the flick of my hoof, watch!”
  5422. >”Trap… bewitched… Rainbow… guard… he’s bewitched…”
  5423. “Once we’re out, we can—”
  5424. >And then, you’re hurtling across the room
  5425. >Frozen in place, your hooves crumpled at awkward angles, but flying
  5426. >At first, it’s like you’re flying for the first time, unsure of what you’re doing or where you’re going
  5427. >Then, you slam hard against a metal frame, and that pool of energy you’d found seals shut
  5428. “Ack!”
  5429. >Hard globs of bloody spittle launch out of your throat, and a sickening crunch meets your ears as you fall onto your side
  5430. >A high, sharp pain like nothing you’ve ever felt before rockets out of your right forehoof
  5431. >Out of the Element
  5432. >Several seconds go by as you twitch on the cool landing pad, no air left in your lungs to cry out
  5433. >When you regain the gift of sight, all you see are faint blurs shifting beneath a latent green glow
  5434. >Then, the color green turns turquoise, and turquoise turns to stark blue
  5435. >The bay door behind you is opening again
  5436. >Somewhere, far off, the flak cannons continue their ceaseless battery
  5437. >Except… that sound is much deeper, much more ambient
  5438. >This sound, this rhythmic sound, is the sound of something hard clanging against unyielding steel
  5439. >It’s the sound of hoofsteps
  5440. >And they’re getting louder
  5441. >Your hoof… your hoof is broken
  5442. >Somehow, you manage to shift your weight, allowing your left forehoof to caress the right from the tip to the end
  5443. >The hoof itself isn’t cracked, but the fetlock…
  5444. >The fetlock is twisted at such an unnatural angle that it’d be generous to call it “backwards”
  5445. >And the pain… the pain is darkness, spreading out of your hoof and into your mind
  5446. >Your whole mind is pain, your whole body is pain, and you want to fall asleep
  5447. >Yes, just fall asleep, just let that darkness take you and everything will be better, you won’t feel a thing you won’t…
  5448. “Guhhhh-nuh!”
  5449. >More than you can sustain
  5450. CLANG CLANG CLANG
  5451. >And then, you’re airborne again
  5452. >Your body’s off the ground, after all, so you must be flying, except your wings aren’t moving and neither are you
  5453. >And you can barely think, much less hover, so what are you doing here?
  5454. >What are you doing in this green, this green turned blue, and why are you turning?
  5455. >And what is all this whiteness?
  5456. >The hoof is darkness, yes, the hoof is pure darkness, so it can’t possibly be that that’s where all this white is coming from
  5457. >No… the dark is in your head, but the white is in your eyes
  5458. >It’s a coat… it’s hair, isn’t it?
  5459. >Thick, short, pure white hair, covering everything
  5460. >And maybe even a muzzle
  5461. >And two crimson eyes
  5462. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
  5463. >A voice that must be yours is screaming
  5464. >Element somewhere, Element maybe in your hoof but it isn’t there, where is it it’s gone it has to be there but your hoof is bent backwards and you can’t move and you can’t breathe and you can’t—
  5465. >”You can’t have thought you would actually win, daughter of Hurricane.”
  5466. >Voice, voice from somewhere
  5467. >Voice out of those red eyes
  5468. >Gorgons, you’re going to black out, this pain is unbearable
  5469. >”It should be. You deserve it for what you’ve done. For all the trouble you’ve caused everypony these short few hours.”
  5470. >Not where you’re meant to be not where
  5471. >The voice is deep, too deep for Trixie, a basso from the depths of perception
  5472. >”You should have listened to your father. Should have listened to Trixie. Trixie has plans within plans. And Trixie does not compromise when it comes to ensuring that the Chancellor’s will is done.”
  5473. >You have to fight this thing, fight it
  5474. >Fight the thing holding you off the ground, fight fight fight
  5475. >It’s Trixie, the words are Trixie’s, but they’re coming out of a different mouth, a stallion’s mouth
  5476. >”It’s all that… Trixie has left… to inhabit this form… just as Trixie did… over an hour ago. When Trixie was at full capacity, when Pericles was untarnished! It was easy then, to enter the pre-conditioned mind. To multitask. To become this stallion which Hurricane believed he had hoof-picked himself. But the power… of suggestion… is everything.”
  5477. “Mmmmhuh! Huhhhhh!”
  5478. >Words, you are not making words, you’re making sounds
  5479. >You can do better than that Rainbow, you can make words you can feel even though you’re numb all over
  5480. >YOUR HOOF FEELS LIKE DEATH
  5481. >”Bulk Biceps. We always had two operatives, Rainbow Dash. But one of them was… unwilling… to accept mere payment, as your pathetic friend did. When Trixie was given the task of… conditioning a mind… to respond to future stimulus… Trixie did so perfectly. Before he was employed as Hurricane’s personal bodyguard… before the scare we organized prompted your father to seek out… such services…”
  5482. “Nuhhhh funnnnn… funn binnnchhhh…”
  5483. >Say the words!
  5484. >Say something!
  5485. >The pain is black, and it’s moving up your spine, through your tendons
  5486. >You have to close your eyes, it’s unbearable to keep them open for a moment longer, to see that white face with the red eyes staring you down
  5487. >If you lose consciousness, you die
  5488. >”You’ve seen him before, Rainbow Dash. Trixie knows you’ve seen him, because Trixie has seen you THROUGH him. Bulk Biceps has carried the seed of Trixie inside him for months now. All that was left to do today was to awaken him to his purpose. And now that he has performed the admirable task of escorting Target Prime to our extraction vessel, Bulk Biceps… can perform… another EQUALLY noble task… unhhhh…”
  5489. >Through the blurring of noises and the screaming of ligaments, you can barely make out the strained panic besetting Bulk Biceps’ deep voice
  5490. >Everything’s burning, everything…
  5491. >”Nnnnnyou… have no idea… how much strain… even something like this… requires, Rainbow Dash. Something which should be… so simple… is now a bane on Trixie’s… might.”
  5492. >She’s losing control
  5493. >If she loses all control, and releases him from her grasp, then…
  5494. >Gorgons, your hoof is going to explode… concussed… everything spinning…
  5495. >Darkness coming…
  5496. >”So… at the risk of… upsetting the Chancellor’s plan… Trixie must… bid you… adieu.”
  5497. >Strength
  5498. >Strength from somewhere
  5499. >Strength enough to push against the foreleg holding you high off the holding floor
  5500. >No, it isn’t your strength
  5501. >You thought it had been something you’d done, but you’re plummeting, and you have never plummeted in your life
  5502. >So it couldn’t have been strength that got you here
  5503. >You were dropped, or thrown
  5504. >The foreleg pushed off against you, not the other way around
  5505. >The floor is so far away, and you’ve been falling for so long
  5506. >And isn’t that hail beating against your coat?
  5507. >Hail
  5508. >You’re no longer in the cargo hold
  5509. >You’re falling, falling fast
  5510. >The Element, it’s…
  5511. “GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
  5512. >You open your eyes again, conscious at last of the source of that energy
  5513. >If not from resolve, if not from loyalty, if not from the Element, then from where?
  5514. >The answer was in front of you all along
  5515. >Strength comes from inheritance
  5516. >Strength comes from strength
  5517. >And where you had none, where you were helpless in the face of power which surprised you, you’ll never be surprised again
  5518. “URGHHHHAAAAAAA!”
  5519. >The Element isn’t gone; it still hasn’t left your hoof
  5520. >You can’t see it, can’t bend your hoof around to face its crimson glow, but it’s still there
  5521. >Still…
  5522. >Still as the waves of Time crashing over one another
  5523. >Still as the hail resting in the sky, crystalline pellets waiting to crack upon the concrete
  5524. >You breathe out into the air, then pull more back into your lungs with the force of a dragon
  5525. >Your insides are exploding with precise and concerted pain, your wing is bent, your foreleg is beyond broken
  5526. >But in this state, this redness, this potent and undying velocity, you can turn and see
  5527. >You can look down at the wet concrete slab, mere feet from where you float
  5528. >A millisecond more, and you would have been spread like jelly across that surface
  5529. >A fine place to die, for the daughter of…
  5530. >For a warrior
  5531. >Ignore the pain, Rainbow
  5532. >That’s all that can be done, just ignore the pain
  5533. >It doesn’t exist unless you allow it to exist
  5534. >Swimming through the immobile air, you touch down, and once again time resumes its standard pace
  5535. “Doesn’t… exist… doesn’t… exist…”
  5536. >Hail drives its way into the silvery pavement, an endless crackle of white noise which, under any other circumstances, would be soothing
  5537. >Balanced on three legs, the fourth raised up, destroyed by a hulking giant’s effortless toss, you consider your options
  5538. >Above you, the dirigible containing your father and the possessed Bulk Biceps rises steadily into the fog
  5539. >The beacon light is no longer shining; if you lose it in this storm, you’ll never find it again
  5540. >Not in this state…
  5541. >If you fly now, RIGHT now, you could make your way back up there, but…
  5542. >It hurts
  5543. >You can’t ignore the pain, no matter how hard you try
  5544. >It hurts so badly that you want to just crumple down and die, right here on this spot
  5545. >But you can’t, you won’t, you…
  5546. >”ENGAGING!”
  5547. >You cannot catch a break
  5548.  
  5549. ******
  5550.  
  5551. “ENGAGING!”
  5552. >She’s there, and she doesn’t stand a chance
  5553. >The Wunderbolts are hot on your tail, but it won’t matter once you’ve taken their leader captive
  5554. >You are Soarin, and you really can’t help but give credit to this mare where credit’s due
  5555. >Somehow, before your very eyes, Captain Rainbow Dash, the daughter of Hurricane, just plummeted almost eighty meters out of a moving dirigible, apparently unconscious and dumb to the world, and survived
  5556. >And not just survived, either; at the very last moment, inches from the ground, she righted herself faster than the eye could perceive
  5557. >She wasn’t using her wings, wasn’t slowing her descent by any means other than sheer air resistance, and yet there she stands upon a bulwark of Highstorm Port, shaken but clearly alive and well
  5558. >Still, “alive and well” doesn’t exactly imply good health
  5559. >After rounding the platform with the beaten but still capable Wunderbolts in tow, you avoided their fire for long enough to feint topside with the rest of Thunder Nine
  5560. >No fatalities so far, thank Celestia, though Fire Streak did sound off that she took a shot to the shoulder
  5561. >Persistent little harpies, these; even the one whose life you threatened at the point of a knife has been giving chase, perhaps even more ferociously than her comrades
  5562. >Still, you managed to shake them for the time being, though they undoubtedly know where you are and what you’re doing by now
  5563. >But the new primary target is in sight, precisely where Spitfire told you she’d be over that…
  5564. >You hesitate to call it a “dispatch,” since those generally occur over a radio
  5565. >That psychic intrusion, more like
  5566. >There’s another funny thing, too, because somehow it still feels like Thunder One is inside your head
  5567. >Not speaking to you directly, but… watching, in a sense
  5568. >You can’t really explain it, but you get the feeling that your comrades feel it too
  5569. >Anyway, if she’s watching to see if you can handle the situation, you won’t disappoint
  5570. >After all, Rainbow Dash is a sitting buck down there, and in a few more moments you and the rest of Thunder Nine will be right on top of her
  5571. >And the Wunderbolts will be on top of you…
  5572. >Wonderful
  5573. >”She’s just standing there, Soarin! How do we engage?”
  5574. >You regard Sandstorm, who looks to be peering suspiciously back in the direction of the lost Wunderbolts
  5575. >Not that you can really tell what anypony’s looking at, with all this Celestia-forsaken hail
  5576. >You’ve never seen weather turn so bad so fast
  5577. “She looks unarmed! But we take no chances! Approach as if she’s a combatant, but no lethal measures! Just like the Captain said!”
  5578. >”And if THEY gain on us?”
  5579. >You shake your head, cold streaks trickling down your muzzle and out of your ears
  5580. “Sandstorm! Geronimo! On me! The rest of you, circle up top! Do not let the Wunderbolts catch us by surprise again!”
  5581. >Directing your form straight down, you hesitate briefly before diving down towards the platform, and the lone figure upon it
  5582. >The great big flagpoles with banners bearing the mark of the PAS, that strange spiral of disembodied wings… together with the mooring chains for the dirigibles swaying in the wind, they all seem to point downwards to the same origin
  5583. >You follow the lines to the source, wondering if there will be anything left to do after this is done
  5584. >Despite being a complete bust on the surface, you suppose that the invasion’s accomplished everything it set out to accomplish, right?
  5585. >Or, at least, it’s about to
  5586. >General Hurricane’s up there, in that black dirigible silently drifting into the abyss, and you’re here to clean up what’s left
  5587. >You gently touch down onto the cold concrete, and behind you several more sets of hooves audibly do the same
  5588. >It’s difficult to look up in this weather, but you’re aware that if you did, you’d see two more pegasi diligently searching the sky for any unwelcome intruders
  5589. >Now, as you approach your target on hoof, the gap closing between you until it’s a matter of about a dozen meters, you become entirely aware of why she hasn’t tried to slip you yet
  5590. >The blue-coated pegasus, naked and bleeding profusely from her left wither, is standing on three legs, the fourth bent upwards at an incredibly painful-looking angle
  5591. >Her short, multicolored mane droops over her bruised back; her lip is split, her wing feathers are tattered and folded
  5592. >She looks beaten every which way, but she’s still standing, and what’s more, she isn’t even looking at you
  5593. >No, her violet eyes, rimmed and bloodshot, are looking up into the hail, up towards the dirigible bound for the unknown
  5594. >She was there, you realize; she was there, and she lost it
  5595. “RAINBOW DASH!”
  5596. >The trembling mare pays you no mind at all
  5597. >You’re certain it’s her, and she must be able to hear you from here
  5598. >You take a few uncertain steps forward, the torrent beating back your folded wings
  5599. “I’m Lieutenant Soarin, of the Canterian Aerial Seventh! You’re coming with us!”
  5600. >Still no response
  5601. >It’s making you a little nervous to keep approaching her, so if this is some kind of tactic, it’s working
  5602. >Nevertheless, you press on; you highly doubt she could be concealing any weapons in that condition
  5603. >Sandstorm and High Spirits catch up to you, flanking you on both sides as you close the gap further
  5604. >When you’re only a few ponies’ length away from her, the three of you fan out, forming a sort of uneven triangle around the injured Wunderbolt captain
  5605. “Rainbow Dash… it’s over. Surrender now, and we can guarantee the lives of your subordinates.”
  5606. >If they elect to surrender in kind, that is
  5607. >You may have the firepower, but they’ve got unmatched tenacity
  5608. >Suddenly, the blue mare stumbles, falling back onto her hindquarters and shaking her head rapidly
  5609. >Is she surrendering, or is she trying to “stand her ground?”
  5610. >”Soarin… should we make the arrest?”
  5611. >Sandstorm’s just as uncertain as you are
  5612. >The head shaking picks up speed, and soon Rainbow Dash is rocking back and forth, ostensibly to nurse the pain of her shattered fetlock
  5613. “She looks concussed, or worse. Geronimo, do the cuffing. Just mind her head. And keep your gun trained on her, Sandstorm. If she makes any sudden moves, put one in her hindleg.”
  5614. >Sandstorm nods, an impulse from her pulse trigger summoning the A70 out of where it had been nestled near her flank, causing it to spring to action with a clang
  5615. >You do the same, twitching when the gun flares up next to you
  5616. >You haven’t twitched like that since boot camp…
  5617. >But this situation is so unnatural, and as you watch Geronimo approaching Hurricane’s daughter from behind you find yourself dreading what’s about to happen
  5618. >”SOARIN!”
  5619. >You jump again, automatically readying yourself into a combat stance, before realizing that the strained voice came from Fire Streak, circling above in the noisy storm
  5620. “WHAT, LIEUTENANT?”
  5621. >”High Spirits saw shadows in the clouds to the west! Wunderbolts are inbound! We need to wrap this thing up before it gets ugly!”
  5622. >Damnit… you didn’t want it to come to another firefight, but if it does, at least this time you’ll have leverage
  5623. >You tilt back on your hindleg, your dressed bullet wound barely flinching
  5624. >You’re still a bit light-headed after Sandstorm gave you that shot, but it can’t be the amphetamines alone giving you this feeling of paranoia
  5625. >You can practically hear your heartbeat over the downpour
  5626. “Geronimo… steady now… Rainbow Dash… just let him restrain you, don’t try anything stu—”
  5627. FFFSHAAAZZZZZZZ
  5628. >Several things happen in very little time
  5629. >First, you perceive a blinding red glow exuding from the hoof of Rainbow Dash, though it lasts less than half a second
  5630. >Then… well, you couldn’t REALLY explain what you saw if you tried
  5631. >Rainbow Dash is standing still one moment, then she’s moving, and FAST
  5632. >But it isn’t ordinary movement, it’s… it’s like there are two mares at once
  5633. >One moves forwards into Sandstorm, sending her flying in the opposite direction
  5634. >The other bucks backwards, stunning Geronimo and sending the restraints he’d retrieved from his knapsack hurtling into space
  5635. >Or maybe there aren’t two… maybe it’s more like a continuum of… of… of red THINGS, red projections of Rainbow Dash, all acting out the same motions in various states
  5636. >A snake of time catching up to itself
  5637. >As one charges forwards, the next rears back, and as that one charges forwards, the next rears back, and so forth
  5638. >And then, less than two seconds later, it’s over
  5639. >”Unngh!”
  5640. >”Gah!”
  5641. >Sandstorm does a backflip as she tumbles into the concrete, her wings flapping uselessly to each side
  5642. >Geronimo, a bit heavier, simply slumps to the ground, his jaw looking more than a little misaligned
  5643. >And there, between them, drenched, bleeding, and a lot more aware-looking than when you first set eyes on her, is Rainbow Dash, the daughter of Hurricane, looking right back at you
  5644. >Her limp, broken forehoof shines red, leaving a wispy trail of crimson smoke as she breathes in ragged two-time
  5645. >Her wings are unfurled, and the look on her face is one of quiet rage
  5646. >You… you back away without thinking
  5647. >You could gun her down where she stands with your mounted A70 right now, but…
  5648. >Could you?
  5649. >You become painfully aware of the fact that your hooves have no traction on this wet tarmac
  5650. >You feel like you’re going to slip, going to…
  5651. >You could… could shoot her, and…
  5652. >”Wunder… bolts…”
  5653. >With the slightest touch, you could fall backwards and crack your skull open
  5654. >This gun on your shoulder feels like a toy
  5655. “I… I…”
  5656. >”Wunder… bolts… you have them?”
  5657. “N-no… no, they’re… they’re coming… they’re behind us…”
  5658. >”Hughhhh… good…”
  5659. >(“KILL-ILL HER!”)
  5660. >”Unh!”
  5661. >You clamp your ears shut with your hooves, as does Rainbow Dash
  5662. >You’re hearing on the same wavelength, though you should know by now that it isn’t really “hearing”
  5663. >(“SHOOT HER-ER-ER NOW!!!”)
  5664. >Lightning strikes, thunder cracks
  5665. >A chain of blue light in the sky, beginning in the north, steps from cloud to cloud until finally shooting straight down
  5666. >At once, the air is polarized, the hair on the small of your back standing straight up
  5667. >(“KAA’ZAAM KAABA CHYTHULYXOS!!!”)
  5668. SHA-DOOOOOOM
  5669. >A bolt of lightning strikes the spot Rainbow Dash is standing
  5670. >Except she isn’t standing there anymore… and for that matter, neither are you
  5671. >For a moment, you thought you saw that same glowing red chain of her, approaching you, touching you this time, though you don’t remember feeling her touch
  5672. >And if she did touch you, it was for but a millisecond; so why are you all the way back here now?
  5673. >Why are you lying flat on your back, a flash of brilliant blue above, illuminating the tense and crippled figure of Rainbow Dash?
  5674. >She’s standing over you now, and you’ve never been more certain of your complete powerlessness
  5675. >If this was what Thunder One and Spitfire intended, then they must have intended for you to fail
  5676. >There’s simply no other explanation
  5677. >”Hanh… hanh…”
  5678. >You feel as though she could kill you with a word
  5679. >And yet she moved you
  5680. >Behind her, in the place the two of you occupied mere seconds ago, an otherworldly fire burns low, surrounded by ash and seemingly unbothered by the downpour
  5681. >You would have been fried…
  5682. >Geronimo, still unconscious, seems to have been missed by mere inches
  5683. >Or perhaps Rainbow Dash found the time to push him, too
  5684. >”Hanh… don’t…”
  5685. >Violet eyes are on you again, their dark intensity outshining even the flames
  5686. >Wings sprout from Rainbow Dash’s back, ruffled sticks of singed feathers
  5687. >Then, she’s in the air, holding her injured hoof close to her, that strange crimson light glowing at its center
  5688. >Dark red veins, beginning at the light, snake up her limb like reverse-flowing liquid before your very eyes
  5689. >”Don’t… make me… regret that.”
  5690.  
  5691. ******
  5692.  
  5693. >(“Kill… her… no more to… chance… overload…”)
  5694. >Random syllables enter your mind, the product of the witch’s incessant ramblings
  5695. >As you stare down the Canterian from above, you want to believe that he won’t order his airborne subordinates after you the minute he’s out of sight
  5696. >You’re not sure if he’s hesitating to shoot you with that A70 of his because he’s afraid of what his masters will do to him, or if he’s afraid of what YOU’LL do to him
  5697. >Either way, it’s probably best not to give away the fact that you’re completely out of Elemental energy
  5698. >There’s no chance in hell that you’d be able to dodge a bullet right now
  5699. >You’re Rainbow Dash… you’re strong
  5700. >But you’re beat bad, and nothing’s going the way it should
  5701. >You had your father right in front of you, and Trixie found a way to prevent it
  5702. >You had time on your side, and now you’ve lost it
  5703. >Precious seconds ticking away, before you lose that dirigible…
  5704. >What are you thinking? You could catch up to it
  5705. >You could catch it, if you could only rest for a while
  5706. >Yes, let it go, you’ll follow its path, try to keep it within sight
  5707. >You know where it’s going, yes, you know the bearing
  5708. >Bide your time…
  5709. >But if you stay here, in the city, they won’t stop hunting you
  5710. >Even if you hide now, Trixie knows where you are; she already proved as much when she shot that blade at your heart
  5711. >Or when she summoned lightning bolts to smite you
  5712. >And then, it hits you like a cannonball to the stomach
  5713. >Pegasopolis… can’t stand up to this
  5714. >Your father is in chains, but that’s only a part of it
  5715. >If you don’t give in to them, if you run away, then they’ll raze the city
  5716. >Those soulless Canterians… you know they’re capable of it, you KNOW they’d do it gladly
  5717. >This one, this “Soarin” splayed out before you… you think he wouldn’t do it if it were his hoof on the trigger?
  5718. >If the only thing preventing him from ending you now is fear, then what’s his hesitancy worth?
  5719. >You aren’t afraid of him… you could squash him like a bug…
  5720. >A serpent of pain crawls up your foreleg, into your spine, into your whole body
  5721. >Unconsciously, you glance down at the source, only to see that what’s going on is more than just pain
  5722. >It’s red stripes, or pulsing veins, blood, or SOMETHING spilling out of the Element embedded in your frog
  5723. >The pain multiplies, and it takes all your willpower not to burst into tears from the sheer intensity
  5724. >Before, you were controlling it, there was a reserve and you were dipping into it, drawing out power in small quantities
  5725. >Now that the reserve is exhausted, it’s taking its toll on you, it’s lashing out, it’s…
  5726. >…
  5727. >You’ve made up your mind
  5728. >You saved this stallion from the lightning strike Trixie dished out because you saw no reason to let him die
  5729. >You hate Canterium, you hate their Chancellor, and you hate Trixie
  5730. >But to kill a soldier while he’s lying on his back wouldn’t be glorious
  5731. >(“Kill… before… overload…”)
  5732. “Shut it.”
  5733. >The witch’s voice gnaws at the back of your head, even though you’re fairly certain she isn’t even talking to you anymore
  5734. >Despite all her power, she has about as much control over this situation as you, and you won’t let her pull the same trick on you twice
  5735. >So she can possess your father’s bodyguard, puppeteer his unconscious body, make him throw you around?
  5736. >If she could do it forever, she wouldn’t have thrown you out of the dirigible
  5737. >The engineer said something about overcharging the Pericles device, that it might be cataclysmic for everypony in that room
  5738. >Trixie might put everypony else, including her own soldiers, at risk, but she would never put her own wretched life on the line to stop you
  5739. >That was her last ditch effort to keep you away from your father, and now that it’s undoubtedly worn off, there’s nothing she can do
  5740. >Nothing except hope that you won’t chase after the dirigible in this condition
  5741. >And you wouldn’t dream of giving her the satisfaction
  5742. “Tell me… what your life… is worth.”
  5743. >The Canterian looks up at you for several seconds, seemingly still reeling from the shock of being carried back so fast
  5744. >”I… I don’t…”
  5745. “Is your life worth… ack… risking to stop me from going up there?”
  5746. >You gesture broadly up into the clouds, near where you last saw the dirigible floating
  5747. >”You’re… you’re the prime target. I have to follow my captain’s orders.”
  5748. “I thought you’d say that. You do realize that your captain… Spitfire, right? You realize she’s with the mare who just tried to zap you a few seconds ago.”
  5749. >”That wasn’t… that was lightning, that was—”
  5750. “It was DELIBERATE. It’s your unicorn. She’s lost all control over this fake storm of hers, and if you don’t get out of here right now, things could get a whole lot worse.”
  5751. >”They were supposed to have you. This wasn’t part of the job, none of this… was…”
  5752. “Then we’re in the same boat. And here I was thinking I was the only pony in the dark. Look, just… tell your pegasi not to pursue me. You have far less a chance of stopping me than you think, and I don’t want it get complicated.”
  5753. >You already bluffed your way out of one near-death experience today, why not try for another?
  5754. >”That wouldn’t be… look, comms are down. I couldn’t hail them if I tried. So unless you expect me to tag along with you, then…”
  5755. “No! Just… just… tell them I went south. Tell them I went back into the city.”
  5756. >You look around, trying to see if you can distinguish any visible flying shapes in the thick swirling haze, but finding none
  5757. >The only ones on the ground are you, him, and the two you already took care of
  5758. ”If they come back down, tell them there was a flash. And that I was going south. I’m not coming back down. They won’t know you’re lying.”
  5759. >”They’ll know if you get shot down by the cannons on that dirigible.”
  5760. “If that happens, then I think a white lie will be the least of your Chancellor’s concerns.”
  5761. >”Or… or I could just pop you in the hindleg. From this distance, there’d be nothing to it.”
  5762. “If you thought you could do that, you would’ve done it already.”
  5763. >Even with all the din of the downpour, you’re pretty sure you hear him gulp
  5764. >You’ve already wasted enough time down here; the time to go is now
  5765. >You exchange one last look with the Canterian, Soarin, and from the uncertain look he gives you, you can’t tell if he’ll do what you’ve asked
  5766. >All you can hope is that saving his life bought you a little bit of clemency, or respect, or something
  5767. >So, without another word, you beat your wings back, turning around and picking up speed against the rush of the wind
  5768. >Your broken foreleg is still killing you, but at least you’ve gotten a little used to the pain
  5769. >Hay, as long as you didn’t black out the second you were wounded, it’s unlikely to happen now, right?
  5770. >Right?
  5771. >A few meters further on, and you’re pleasantly surprised that Soarin hasn’t tried to shoot you in the back yet
  5772. >Once you’re comfortably out of his range, you swoop down towards a lower embankment of the port, trying to curtail what you perceive as the effective range of the Canterian unit
  5773. >If Trixie were half as smart as she thinks she is, she would’ve opened up one of those clearings in the storm like she did before, so that the Canterians would be able to track you
  5774. >On and on you fly, picking up steam, until at last you reach the edge of Highstorm Port, where the lip of the platform meets the grey abyss below
  5775. >Then, wincing as you change trajectory, you start climbing
  5776. >Higher and higher, a straight shot into the heavens, searching among the pale blue lightning for a great oblong reflection
  5777. >It’s up there somewhere, you just have to look…
  5778. >You strain as you press your wings tighter to your form, only able to streamline with one hoof as opposed to the usual two
  5779. >Your damaged foreleg, you keep tucked close to your stomach, where the red veins continue to leech into your matted and damp coat
  5780. >You don’t care; if this is the price of saving your father, of righting past wrongs, then you won’t hesitate even for a moment to let this power have its sway over you
  5781. >Time Turner’s carried it his whole life, after all, so what are a few measly hours?
  5782. >Now… once you find the dirigible, you’ll have to trail at a safe distance
  5783. >Getting out of the storm will actually make that part a bit harder, since visibility will improve such that you won’t have any hiding places
  5784. >But if you time your approach just right, you can bust in, break through your father’s chains using the Element, then cart him out before Trixie can take control of Bulk Biceps again
  5785. >After all, it can’t be too far off, and she’s still weak, and the boundary of the storm will naturally be the boundary of her influence
  5786. >You climb higher with renewed purpose, some of that lost energy returning to your body
  5787. >You’re still dehydrated, bruised, stabbed, and broken, but at least you don’t lack for character
  5788. >You’re Rainbow Dash, after all; you’re Captain of the Wunderbolts
  5789. >Through your own merit, you rose up to where you are now
  5790. >(Rising)
  5791. >Your niche has been carved for you, and all that’s left to do is fill it
  5792. >(Falling)
  5793. >An invisible pendulum swings in the back of your throat, and the pressure drops along with the temperature
  5794. >You're gaining altitude fast, and the dirigible is still...
  5795. >There!
  5796. >You squint to confirm it, the mess of precipitation obscuring your vision, but you can’t be mistaken
  5797. >Nestled between two dark nimbus clouds is the tail end of the dirigible, its gleaming propeller dispersing everything it touches
  5798. >The rain and sleet and hail pushes you back, but you fight against it
  5799. >This is the last push, the last time you have to force it all to fall into place
  5800. >You think suddenly of the Academy, of meeting Lightning Dust for the first time
  5801. >She wouldn’t ever let you leave the Gymnasium without proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you weren’t holding back
  5802. >That any new trick she or you had learned was put to the test, that you’d tried to win in every way you could
  5803. >(Except that one)
  5804. >Except the way you could never replicate, that you knew in your mind you could perform, but never found the heart to attempt
  5805. >Not after what happened, not after you were frozen in fear and let her
  5806. >(Fall)
  5807. >That won’t happen again
  5808. >Forget Lightning Dust, forget the Academy, just push it out of your mind
  5809. >You wanted glory, and there it is; a great big ball in the sky, begging to get kicked
  5810. >You can’t be more than a few hundred meters below it now, if you just keep pushing, you’ll get there
  5811. >If you just keep—
  5812. >(“Lost.”)
  5813. >…
  5814. >What?
  5815. >(“You’ve lost, daughter of Hurricane.”)
  5816. >She’s in your head again, she knows you’re coming
  5817. >But it doesn’t matter, she’s far behind you, and her power can only get weaker the further you get from Pegasopolis below
  5818. >(“You thought Trixie would need to incapacitate you to win? You thought I’d need Bulk Biceps again?”)
  5819. >You grit your teeth, baring them savagely against the wind
  5820. >Fly higher, higher, ignore the voice, just keep going
  5821. >(“You’re beyond persistent, Rainbow Dash… but Trixie told you from the moment you woke up… you have no chance of affecting the outcome of Operation Thunderstruck.”)
  5822. >Higher, higher!
  5823. >(“Your Wunderbolts are below. Even now, my Thunder Nine strike team are decimating them.”)
  5824. >Don’t listen! They can handle themselves!
  5825. >(“They’re fighting for your safety, Rainbow Dash. And you’ve left them behind.”)
  5826. “EVERY ONE OF THEM’S WORTH TEN OF YOURS!”
  5827. >(“Trixie only wanted to give you an alternative. Go back, help them by turning yourself in. End all this before it gets any worse.”)
  5828. >She wants you to just lie down and take it
  5829. >But she has no hold over you, and she can’t enter your mind unless you let her
  5830. >(“I can see how close you are, Rainbow Dash. I can see you ge-getting closer-er-er. But you have no idea how far-ar-ar you are.”)
  5831. >You must be getting close to the edge of the storm; ethereal shafts of light illuminate the blimp from behind its bulk, painting it in rich violet shades
  5832. >Make it before its guns can see you!
  5833. >(“See what magic Trix-ix-ixie can perform-orm… orm…”)
  5834. >And then, silence
  5835. >Silence that seems to prove to you that she’s no longer in your head
  5836. >Even the patter of hail against your ears sounds curiously muffled
  5837. >She’s lost, you can already feel it
  5838. >In your gut, in your mind, there’s nothing but this polarizing sense of satisfaction
  5839. >There’s nothing in your way now, nothing but—
  5840. >…
  5841. >No
  5842. >No, it can’t possibly…
  5843. >Not that large…
  5844. >She couldn’t…
  5845. >Despite coming so far, with the dirigible still tantalizingly out of range, you still haven’t breached the storm
  5846. >The light from behind the balloon, it isn’t columns of sunlight
  5847. >But it couldn’t possibly be…
  5848. >The beams spill across the surface of the dirigible, pouring outwards in every direction
  5849. >Silhouettes dance in the clouds, reflections of reflections of hyperbolic lines
  5850. >Violet lines, the size of towers
  5851. >Arcing downwards, infinitely present, never intersecting
  5852. >In planes that seem to defy the strictest definitions of space
  5853. >It isn’t sunlight
  5854. >It’s magic
  5855. >A field of violet hyperbolas, with its origin at the dirigible
  5856. >The same hyperbolas you saw in the office, and on the balcony at Staatskongress, just before the blade launched itself from thin air
  5857. >A final gambit
  5858. >But at this range, and at this scale…
  5859. >She’ll overload it, you know she will
  5860. >Your heart drops through your stomach, through your gut, through your hooves
  5861. >The air is alive with static, and the rain is just an echo in the distance
  5862. >It feels as though all the energy in the universe is about to converge on a single point, two hundred meters above you
  5863. >She’s going to teleport the entire dirigible
  5864. >She’s going to teleport it away, with your father inside it
  5865. >And when it folds through space, when it appears on the other side, in Unicronia, hundreds of miles away…
  5866. >There won’t be any hope left
  5867. >The dream your father had will crumble into dust
  5868. >His life will be forfeit
  5869. >Instantaneously
  5870. >But this… this can’t be possible!
  5871. >Your wings feel heavier than they’ve ever felt, and your mouth tastes like iron and salt
  5872. >Your eyes are burning… burning…
  5873. >Your whole face is on fire, your whole mind…
  5874. >The violet lines draw the storm clouds up into their streams, and wisps of fog coil about the beams
  5875. >No longer does the grumble of thunder occur randomly; it reverberates with a steady tempo, like the guns below
  5876. >Like the ticking of a watch
  5877. >Like…
  5878. >Like wings making ripples in the air they bisect
  5879. >Like a heartbeat, pumping life blood through your broken body
  5880. >Like the rattle of the Element, like all of them at once, like none of them
  5881. >You’re inside a brain, no, you’re inside a cavernous hollow, no, no…
  5882. “NO!”
  5883. >What was never done has to be done now
  5884. >What could never be done to save your mother from the storm
  5885. >There is no elemental energy left in reserve, no pool to draw from
  5886. >But you need to reach that dirigible now
  5887. >Now
  5888. >In no other moment but now
  5889. >You can’t slow the approach of the time of resolution, can’t push back the motion of the hands that drive the world
  5890. >(Cannot revert the wheel)
  5891. >Rainbow Dash…
  5892. >Rainbow Dash…
  5893. >Your eyes are already closed
  5894. >Light shines through them, the light of so many unknowable things
  5895. >Light of every color of the spectrum, light…
  5896. >(“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”)
  5897. >The vectors become thicker, the storm diminishing in volume
  5898. >All power towards the lines, all motive towards this rhythmic act
  5899. >The witch is screaming somewhere, far away
  5900. >Her machine has gone beyond its limit
  5901. >Overloaded, pulsing, pounding, driving forward, driving…
  5902. >Faster than you’ve ever traveled
  5903. >Faster than any pegasus has ever traveled
  5904. >The thing you knew you could do, but never did
  5905. >Whereas movement in the crimson space of the Element is only movement through molasses
  5906. >Now, the movement is through the sharpest of knives, the most abstract of obsessions
  5907. >This thing you have desired, and your mind is bleeding, your life is bleeding away at the seams
  5908. >Colors… colors of the rainbow
  5909. >Colors, and
  5910. >Something
  5911. >Splits
  5912. >Apart
  5913. >
  5914. >
  5915. >
  5916. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
  5917. (boom)
  5918. >
  5919. >
  5920. >
  5921. >Light is upside down
  5922. >The arc is too high
  5923. >The… the…
  5924. >You are Rainbow Dash
  5925. >You are the hammer of gods
  5926. >You are floating through space and through sound
  5927. >You are surrounded by colors
  5928. >You see many things through your eyelids, many notions and motions
  5929. >But the dirigible is not among them
  5930. >Your father is not there
  5931. >He is not in the space you occupy
  5932. >He is not above, nor is he below
  5933. >You have broken… broken through sound
  5934. >You are moving through lightning and thunder
  5935. >Some part of your body, stretched thin as a wire, is taking it through you
  5936. >A shock to the system
  5937. >A flash of lightning in a summer cloud
  5938. >A phantom
  5939. >A dream
  5940. >And the smell of burning flesh
  5941. >And colors become white
  5942. >And white becomes black
  5943. >And and and and and…
  5944. >And your mother is smiling at you, between columns of unshakable stone
  5945. >And you’re falling
  5946. >And she’s falling
  5947. >Falling down to the earth
  5948. >Falling
  5949. >(Falling)
  5950. >down
  5951.  
  5952. ******
  5953.  
  5954. >At first it’s unclear, the nature of this sensation you’re experiencing
  5955. >It comes in waves, brilliant forces of energy which are not visible, but are beautiful nonetheless
  5956. >There is beauty behind the Truth, beauty in the recesses of the conscious mind, so much prophecy coming to pass
  5957. >Even without an Element of your own, you can feel that divine potential with remarkable intensity
  5958. >As though all the words of Sight of the Twelve Books of the Sun have come to pass in an instant’s time
  5959. >You are Twilight Sparkle, and even with your eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead, you know that Applejack can sense it, too
  5960. >When the pale blue storm clouds congregated about Pegasopolis Platform high above, you understood that what was going to happen was beyond significant
  5961. >The invisible ships, carrying ponies within them by Applejack’s reckoning, ascended towards the floating city well over an hour ago
  5962. >But this storm, this unnatural haze which looms large over the city and the city alone, precipitated about fifteen minutes ago
  5963. >And since then, the waves have come over you with a desperate, palpable frequency
  5964. >”Watch… unhh… the road, Miss Sunshine.”
  5965. >Jumping slightly at the sound of your friend’s voice, you regard AJ, who’s slumped back in her seat, clutching the Element tightly to her barrel
  5966. “AJ? What’s the matter?”
  5967. >She’s pale, deathly pale
  5968. >Pale as the Prophetess upon the Rock
  5969. >”It… you can’t feel that?”
  5970. >Swerving to avoid a sudden bend in the dirt path, you find yourself staring down a long, crisp shadow which stretches across the plain beneath
  5971. >It can’t be the shadow of a cloud, it’s too rigid, too…
  5972. >It must be the shadow of the city, cast by the distant sunset
  5973. >Though the storm rages far above, you can still see the crimson face of Mater Solis, gently drifting beyond the horizon
  5974. “I feel something. I feel it in waves. It’s… it’s as though Truth is washing over me. I—”
  5975. >”Not… that… unh, it’s pain! It’s somepony crying out! I can hear it!”
  5976. >Crying out?
  5977. >You hear nothing but the rumble of the ground below, and the constant bellowing of the storm above
  5978. >Wait a minute… no, that shadow…
  5979. >It can’t be cast by the sun, which is much too close to the horizon
  5980. >There’s must be a brighter light above that you can’t see from here…
  5981. >The city from this angle looks even more monumental and massive than you previously thought possible
  5982. >Part of that is the fact that it hovers so impossibly far from the ground, causing your perspective of it to be fooled
  5983. >But… if you had a tall enough ladder, and climbed up to it… Celestia, your brain can’t even conceive of such a scale
  5984. >It’s beyond anything you’ve ever witnessed
  5985. >”Twilight… help me…”
  5986. >And then, your heart drops
  5987. >In your peripheral vision, you can see your friend convulsing, jerking about in random motions, the orange crystalline form of the Element firmly attached to her
  5988. >No, it isn’t even in her hoof anymore, you notice as you glance over in horror; it’s fused into her chest, as though magnetically drawn to that spot just above her heart
  5989. >”Twi…light…”
  5990. “APPLEJACK!”
  5991. >You can’t take your hooves off the steering module, can’t do anything to help her!
  5992. >Even if you weren’t steering, you wouldn’t even know what to do!
  5993. >Mater Solis… Mother Sun, help!
  5994. “Mater… Celestia, born of the light, imbued with the true Sight, please… please, I don’t… I can’t…”
  5995. >Your breathing is too fast, you have to control it, have to…
  5996. >The shadow is drawing closer, and you still can’t see what’s casting it
  5997. >Why is it so important? Why is this happening?
  5998. >You’ve come this far, and there’s something happening up there, in the city, beyond your control, and you can’t even see what it is, what’s to be done, what’s to—
  5999. >”AGH!”
  6000. >Applejack clutches her chest, bucking with both hindlegs, lurching her head to and fro as if searching for something to concentrate on
  6001. “Blessed is the truth of Celestia as it is spoken through her by the M-Mother of wisdom and compassion. Blessed is the word of the prophetess of the Goddess, it is Truth, it is to b-be praised. I am humble, I am bound to Her by Her will, and Her word is my… my…”
  6002. >The shadow eclipses you
  6003. >You’re moving too fast, your hoof is too heavy on the pedal
  6004. >Winona is racing forward at an unbearable speed
  6005. >Unless…
  6006. >There’s something you can feel, something… something is proceeding
  6007. >It’s too dark, too dark, and AJ is looking up through the hole in the roof of the truck, looking with blank eyes at the city in the sky
  6008. >Her mouth is open, and her convulsing has ceased
  6009. >You try to cry out to her again, but no words can leave your lips
  6010. >In the light, there’s something…
  6011. >(“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”)
  6012. >A voice, a bloodcurdling scream, echoing through your mind
  6013. >It comes with the waves, carried on them like a signal, up and down, superposed over itself
  6014. >It wasn’t AJ, she’s still petrified and watching the sky, and it wasn’t your voice, either
  6015. >The city is almost directly overhead, and the clouds…
  6016. >The clouds are on fire
  6017. “AJ… just hold on… ow… oh, Celestia, that was…”
  6018. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
  6019. >Now THAT wasn’t in your mind; that came from above
  6020. >A deafening shriek of forbidden power, a noise you’ve never heard before
  6021. >And yet… it’s familiar, as is the shriek which accompanies it
  6022. >It comes from a dream, from a communion with an angel
  6023. >A Solenoid, blessed reflection of the Truth
  6024. >The noise shakes the foundation of your soul, as too does it shake the framework of the truck around you
  6025. >But it’s what comes next that shakes it the most
  6026. >You barely catch a glimpse of it before it happens, but when you look up again, tracing the vector of AJ’s entranced gaze, you see a cord of light dangling from the raging storm
  6027. >It’s one of thousands, all eddying out in different directions, but this one in particular is growing larger and larger than the rest
  6028. >And then, half a second later, it strikes you
  6029. SHA-DOOOOOOM
  6030. >Electric sparks engulf the truck, millions of tiny lights rippling across the exterior
  6031. >Conducting them, absorbing them…
  6032. >When they dissipate, you have but an instant to recognize that you’re no longer on the ground
  6033. >Or upright, for that matter
  6034. >The world turns sideways, then upside down, then sideways again as Winona hurtles through the air from the shock of the blast
  6035. >The horizon spirals, red sky becoming black soil, a flurry of colors and shapes impossible to distinguish from one another
  6036. >For once, your heart sits perfectly still
  6037. >It’s… rather peaceful, this moment before death
  6038. >Momentum carries you up as the truck strikes the ground again
  6039. >Gravity compels you to move, but your belt prevents you from moving
  6040. >Everything’s turning, metal crunching against metal, glass shattering, directions of movement flipping from moment to moment
  6041. >Impulses, heaving, AJ looking up, then down, her Element glowing in the darkness
  6042. >And then, finally, stillness
  6043. >…
  6044. >The world is upside down
  6045. >No… it’s you
  6046. >Your braided mane hangs away from your scalp, your green Sister’s cloak draped across your face
  6047. >You’re still fastened tightly to your seat, but it hurts to move
  6048. >This is… you thought you were dead
  6049. >Thought you were on the steps of the Mother’s Garden
  6050. >And you didn’t feel an ounce of fear in that moment, embraced the possibility with open hooves
  6051. >But you feel fear now
  6052. >You’re afraid… afraid of being trapped
  6053. >You wince as you turn your neck to the right, squinting as blood pools around your eyes
  6054. >Is this the right direction? Do you see her there, next to you?
  6055. >Blood is… blood is the least of your concerns
  6056. >It’s there, and you want to throw up at the sight of it, but what matters is…
  6057. >You can’t see her; she isn’t there
  6058. >Where AJ once was, seated directly across from you, there is now only a tangle of warped metal and a mess of broken glass
  6059. >Where is she?
  6060. >Celestia, no, she wasn’t thrown out, she isn’t somewhere back there, not…
  6061. >Panic rises in your throat, but you can’t even scream
  6062. >It’s too painful, too—
  6063. >”TWILIGHT!”
  6064. >Behind you
  6065. >Something is moving behind you, something roughly pulling on your seatbelt
  6066. >Hooves reach across you, reaching out for the release switch, which is buried beneath a cluster of debris
  6067. >They fumble for a moment before retracting, then returning a few seconds later brandishing something shiny
  6068. >A sound like leather gliding across a rack greets your ears
  6069. >The bonds are loosening…
  6070. >Finally, with a snap, the belt splits in two, and you drop headfirst into the blasted roof of the truck
  6071. >Then, you’re sideways, things clutching you around the chin and shoulder, dragging you
  6072. >Dragging you into the light
  6073. “Uhmuhhhhh…”
  6074. >Something soft wipes at your eyes, relieving them of their bloody blockage
  6075. >You can open them again, you can see…
  6076. >Applejack, standing above you
  6077. >Applejack, her breath ragged, her expression frantic and concerned
  6078. >”Twilight… are you hurt? Anything broken?”
  6079. “Uhmm… I… it hurts…”
  6080. >”I know it hurts, sugarcube. But does anywhere hurt worse than the rest?”
  6081. “Mmmm… no. No. I don’t think… no.”
  6082. >”Can you stand?”
  6083. >You clench your whole body, swaying back and forth in the dirt
  6084. >You’re prone, flat on your back, facing upwards, facing the city
  6085. >Pegasopolis, a black dot with a glorious halo
  6086. >Coughing, you close your eyes, not wanting to see specks of blood in what comes out of you
  6087. >Then, with all your might, you propel yourself onto your side, where your hooves can touch the earth
  6088. >It takes a great effort, but you manage to pull yourself onto them, bending low before standing with a crack in your joints
  6089. “My… my neck hurts.”
  6090. >”It’s whiplash. You’ll be okay, Twilight.”
  6091. “How did you…?”
  6092. >”Get out? I dunno. One moment, I was somewhere else, looking at somepony I didn’t recognize. Next moment, I was out of the truck, and this here Element was practically burning a hole in my hoof.”
  6093. >You scrape the dust off of your cloak, then turn to get a better look at Applejack
  6094. >Indeed, she appears to be completely unscathed by the crash, aside from a few minor cuts around her legs
  6095. >The Element, far duller in shade than it was during the crash, now hugs the side of her hoof, still attracted to her in its unknowable way
  6096. >Behind her, the inverted ruin of Winona hisses, wheels turned towards the sky, underside billowing out thick smoke
  6097. “AJ… your truck…”
  6098. >”It’s okay, Twilight. It don’t matter. As long as you’re okay, it don’t matter.”
  6099. “I wrecked it.”
  6100. >”You didn’t do nothing. We got struck by lightning, Twilight.”
  6101. “That wasn’t just lightning. Didn’t you see it? It was everywhere, it was coming out of the whole city!”
  6102. >”I dunno what I saw. But I know what I see now.”
  6103. >Applejack huffs, then turns her eyes towards the sky
  6104. >You follow her gaze, looking back towards the apocalyptic sight you already glimpsed
  6105. >Pegasopolis, as seen in your dreams
  6106. >The city is engulfed in a bizarre multicolored aurora, like giant towering flames erupting over its skyline
  6107. >From this angle, you can’t see very many buildings, only its smooth black carapace-like underbelly, but it too is shimmering
  6108. >Specks of light trail downwards in weird vectors from that surface, glowing lines which are impossibly thin
  6109. >But the light above… the light is as beautiful as it is terrible
  6110. >You had expected a nuclear detonation, but this… this cannot be what that looks like
  6111. >In your dreams, in those far-flung memories of the Makers’ suicide, the power of the atom came always with a great towering cloud
  6112. >But this, whatever it is, seems only to have dispersed the clouds
  6113. >Concentric rings of every color of the rainbow cascade outwards from a point near the edge of the city
  6114. >Far beyond the extent of the initial point of explosion, the bands ripple out at several other points, creating a strange interference pattern which covers most of the visible sky
  6115. >Through all of it, brilliant white columns of energy radiate directly outward, dispersing at the edges of your vision, piercing all the colors, all the tumult
  6116. >It’s a grand design, not so unlike the fine Saddle Arabian rug adorning the Matron Celest’s private chambers
  6117. >And you are here, witnessing it from the ground, perhaps only one of two souls to do so
  6118. >But the ponies inside the radiant burst are…
  6119. “We’re too late. We were always going to be too late. Mater’s Truth is infallible. It was never our place to prevent, never…”
  6120. >”Calm down, Twilight. It’s okay.”
  6121. “It isn’t! What’s happening up there, while we’re down here, was our Mission! We needed to seek out an Element-bearer! She was here! The mare that… that Exsilist told us about! We were right to come here, it was our Mission, our fate, a-and.. and…”
  6122. >Tears blur the scope of the massive light-storm above you
  6123. >Nothing you’ve ever learned in your life could prepare you for this knowledge, no passage, no lesson, no experience, no Truth
  6124. >If you only had the Sight to perceive your own aims, if you could only see past it all…
  6125. >(See past it)
  6126. >”There was nothing we could do, Twilight! And w-we don’t even know if whatever that is is a bad thing! We don’t know what’s happened, we don’t know if—”
  6127. “She said DOOM, AJ! Doom! Numena spoke to me, I walked the bridge over the Depths, I climbed the staircase, and in the dream she said it was doom! The doom of those pegasi, there! What more can happen now, when it’s all but known to us?! Two different sources of Truth! An angel, and a demon! How is this not the worst thing that could have happened?”
  6128. >AJ stifles a sob, grunting as she wipes the dust out of her eyes
  6129. “Wh-what did you see, when you were in that place? AJ?”
  6130. >”What are you talking about?”
  6131. “When you were in a trance! When you were looking up at the city, and you s-said you saw a mare you didn’t recognize.”
  6132. >”I never said it was a mare.”
  6133. “Then who was it?”
  6134. >Applejack sighs, still only half-looking at you, and half at the spectacle above
  6135. >”It was just a face. A yellow face. She was looking at me sort of sideways. She looked like… like she was wrapped in vines, or something. She looked sad. Like everything had gone dark, all at once. That’s all I saw.”
  6136. >A yellow face…
  6137. >In a dream, an insect, nervously watching you scale the side of a colossal wheel
  6138. “I’ve seen that face too. Only once. It was in a d-dream I’d never had before, that night in Braeburn's house. A vision.”
  6139. >”And you never told me about it?”
  6140. “You wouldn’t have believed me then. You st-still didn’t believe me about th-that!”
  6141. >You point upwards, towards the flaming reminder of all your premonitions
  6142. “That face was… was right next to that of my Matron. And the Prophetess Celestia. I thought it was just… I didn’t know what to think.”
  6143. >”When I heard that screaming, I thought it was coming from up above us. Thought maybe it was the mare we were looking for. What if… what if I ain’t the first Bearer to find her Element, Twilight? What if… what if somepony else got to theirs first?”
  6144. “That’s… no, that can’t be right. I mean…”
  6145. >It can’t be, can it?
  6146. >You’re the Sister Ascendant, you’re the shepherd of the motion chosen by the Prophetess Herself
  6147. >It should be you inciting the union… shouldn’t it?
  6148. >”Twilight… this is much bigger than either of us. Much bigger than anypony, for that matter. Even if… wait. Look!”
  6149. >It doesn’t matter
  6150. >It’s all in pieces now, all of it
  6151. >It isn’t that you’ve lost faith; if anything, your faith in Mater Solis is strengthened by the revealing of this prophecy as the purest form of Truth
  6152. >But your faith in yourself, in knowing how to prevent such catastrophe, it’s never been weaker
  6153. >You want to go home, want to—
  6154. >”LOOK!”
  6155. >An orange hoof grabs your head, and twists it gently upwards
  6156. >You snap out of your thoughts, and hear the words again
  6157. >”Look there!”
  6158. >AJ is pointing to the epicenter of the rainbow blast, where something black is growing in size
  6159. >A long tendril of smoke is shooting out of that place towards the earth, and it’s only getting longer
  6160. >Something burning, something falling
  6161. >And then, the base of your horn is in agony
  6162. “NNAH!”
  6163. >Your knees buckle beneath you, and you fall to one side, ruffling your cloak beneath your flank
  6164. >The smoke is spiraling…
  6165. >And that thing, that falling star, is approaching the ground from the place where it happened
  6166. >At times, it seems to shimmer red as it drops across the sunset sky, as though it’s reflecting light you cannot see
  6167. >But the pain in your horn only intensifies as it comes closer and closer
  6168. >If it keeps falling like that, it’s going to land less than a hundred meters from you
  6169. >”Twilight, it’s… I can see it with the Element…”
  6170. >To your left, AJ’s eyes flicker amber, and you know that the power of the seed embedded in her hoof is channeling through her vision
  6171. >Seeing beyond sight, beyond Truth…
  6172. >(Six seeds for six bearers)
  6173. >”It’s a pony. That thing is a pony. A-and… it’s alive.”
  6174. >Rainbow fire dances in AJ’s pupils, reflections of the light high above
  6175. >The column of smoke grows, the object tearing through space like a meteorite
  6176. >(Terminal velocity)
  6177. >”I… I can’t believe that she’s alive…”
  6178. “Mater Solis… bear these seeds to the earth… reveal the substance, help illuminate… the dark… th-the Depths… help…”
  6179. >It’s falling down
  6180. >Down to the earth
  6181. >And somehow, through infinite revelations, you already know the identity of the falling mare
  6182. >Delivered to you by providence, by the careful plans of the divine
  6183. >An Element-bearer and her Element
  6184. >”W-we have to go, Twilight. Winona’s done, and we’re stranded in PAS territory. We need to find a way back, because we sure as shootin’ ain’t walking.”
  6185. “We have to retrieve her.”
  6186. >”What?”
  6187. “Have to… it’s the only way. A blue mare, with a rainbow mane. That’s what the Exsilist said, isn’t it?”
  6188. >”Y-yeah. That’s what he said.”
  6189. “And I don’t suppose you can make those features out from here, even with the Element?”
  6190. >”No. Only her life force. Only the shape of her being.”
  6191. “Celestia blesses us. She’s going to land soon.”
  6192. >”From that height? Even if she’s alive now, she’ll be dead the second she hits the ground!”
  6193. “No, she won’t. Mater wills it.”
  6194. >You divert your gaze back to AJ, and she looks back at you
  6195. >She appears shocked, and you think you know why
  6196. >There is dark determination in your eyes, slipping away with the advent of Truth
  6197. >In these moments, you are never more certain that the way you desire things to be, is the way in which they’ll come to pass
  6198. >Because… because you are the tool of Mater Solis, a Sister without the mark of magic on your flank
  6199. “I will it.”
  6200. >Seconds tick by, stares exchanged, returned to the sight before you, and not too far off, the column of smoke joins heaven and earth with a soft earthen thud
  6201. >A blue mare with a rainbow mane… that’s what you’ll find there…
  6202.  
  6203. ******
  6204.  
  6205. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
  6206.  
  6207. INTERLUDE
  6208. FOUR STORIES
  6209.  
  6210. 1. AMENDMENT
  6211.  
  6212. >The sight of this place makes you queasy in a way you can’t describe
  6213. >The chill on the air doesn’t help, makes you shiver all over, and maybe that’s part of why you’re so wound up
  6214. >Only a part, though
  6215. >You always thought the grass in the lawn looked thin, like it was too frail to keep its color
  6216. >Ill-fitting for a manse yard, anyhow
  6217. >You are Braeburn… Braeburn APPLE
  6218. >Well, for now, you have to be Braeburn Rich
  6219. >You have to take after your father for a while, just to make sure this whole thing goes over without a hitch
  6220. >And as hard as you tried to be independent, the Families always seem to draw you back in
  6221. >Maybe it’s good that you’re back in the fold; you’ve spent two nights this week already at Sweet Apple Manor, to everypony’s alarm except for Granny Smith
  6222. >The quizzical expressions of the whole clan bore down on you those nights at supper, all of them wondering what in the hay this half-drunk bastard outsider is doing back in the halls of the Apples
  6223. >You’ll…
  6224. >You almost thought “You’ll show them”
  6225. >Show them what?
  6226. >You have to let go of old grudges if you’re going to survive from this point on, which is exactly why you’re here now
  6227. >With the Apples, and with your other family
  6228. “Hurn. Let’s just get this over with.”
  6229. >Richton Estate, the vast, gaudy marble complex of edifices, spires, and landings you know all too well, stretches across acres of prim lawn before you
  6230. >It’s smaller by a tad than Sweet Apple Manor, but it makes up for it with its height, its presence
  6231. >And where Sweet Apple Manor houses about fifty these days, Richton Estate is home only to three
  6232. >The esteemed Baron Filthy Rich, Chief Magistrate of the Five Families of Rich Valley
  6233. >His wife, Her Majesty the Baroness Spoiled Rich, who’s spent her whole life trying her damndest to live up to her unfortunate name
  6234. >And their daughter, Diamond Tiara, who you knew only when she was very small
  6235. >She probably scarcely remembers you now, if at all…
  6236. >Well, you’d rather not think about all that
  6237. >The Baron knows you’re coming, since you sent ahead with a letter asking for an audience
  6238. >He replied in the formal way, no extra frills, which has tempered your expectations somewhat
  6239. >You ain’t looking for any kind of grand reconciliation, but you were equally afraid he might still be raw about the way you left things
  6240. >You decided to walk out here, rather than take the truck; it’s only a few miles out to Richton, and it’s been too long since you’ve just admired the scenery
  6241. >There’s a stillness to Rich Valley that you doubt can exist anywhere else, a quiet beauty you don’t get much of around the souk
  6242. >It’s a bit noisier here, what with the town down the hill always raising chatter and commotion, but out in the country, between the trees and the mountains…
  6243. >You understand why the Families settled here, of all places
  6244. >Approaching the gate, you stop as you see a shape moving in one of the many windows of the manor in front of you
  6245. >Somepony’s watching you
  6246. >Could it be Baron Rich?
  6247. >You choose to keep your head down and hurry your gait, at last coming to a full stop at the threshold of the wrought-iron fence encircling the house
  6248. >A gate, inlaid with your father’s monogram, stands between you and the house
  6249. >Green lawns with wispy, dull grass stretching for what seemed to a young foal to be miles, all kinds of little nooks to climb on…
  6250. >”Mister?”
  6251. >You jump, the hypnosis induced by this picture of your childhood immediately reduced to a startle
  6252. >To your left, on the other side of the gate, a small figure is approaching you
  6253. >A filly with a pink coat, coiffed hair, and nervous eyes looking right back into yours
  6254. >It’s her… oh, no, you really didn’t want to see her
  6255. “Y-you must be Diamond Tiara. My name is Braeburn.”
  6256. >”Braeburn?”
  6257. >The filly’s muzzle twists upwards in some mix of puzzlement and distaste
  6258. >”You’re that… you’re that fella who lives down with all the Saddle Arabians, aintcha?”
  6259. >Could it be that she doesn’t know? That her mother hasn’t tried poisoning her against you?
  6260. >That would be fantastic…
  6261. >You force a smile, which you’re certain makes you look like a freak
  6262. “That I am. I’m, uh, here to see the Baron. Is he around?”
  6263. >”You mean my daddy? He’s just inside. B-but I don’t think he’s entertaining right now.”
  6264. >Behind the curtains in that upper-story window, the shadow stirs, then disappears
  6265. “Uh, I’ve got a prior appointment. Needed to discuss a potential arrangement with him.”
  6266. >”Oh. Well, that’s alright, I guess. My daddy says that if anypony shows up during daytime asking for to talk, to tell them he isn’t entertaining. But I guess if he already knows…”
  6267. >That’s curious; he used to do all of his business during the day
  6268. “So, uh. Diamond Tiara, r-right?”
  6269. >That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”
  6270. >The filly giggles at her own joke, and you can’t help but smirk and roll your eyes
  6271. “This might seem like an odd question, seeing as how we’ve only just met. But, erm, how’s your daddy doing these days?”
  6272. >”What do you mean by that, mister?”
  6273. “I mean… does he seem alright? Does he talk to you, does he… does he meet anypony you don’t know?”
  6274. >Tiara stretches out on the grass, crossing her hooves in front of her and yawning
  6275. >”Daddy talks to all kinds of people I don’t know. He says that when I get to be his age, I’ll have all kinds of friends from all over the country too. But he talks to me and mom plenty. Mom always says he talks too much, especially when he’s drunk.”
  6276. >Now THAT you do remember
  6277. “He ever meet with, uh, people from the big city? From Mons Canteria?”
  6278. >At the words “Mons Canteria,” the filly’s eyes light up with obvious glee
  6279. >”Oooh, I love Mons Canteria! We went there on a trip a few months ago! I brought my friend Silver with me, we saw the Capitola… Capitulate… the highest part of the city! There were all these pretty buildings there, all different colors, and they were all so tall! And you could look down, and, and there was just nothing but city as far as you could see!”
  6280. “So he met with ponies there?”
  6281. >”He left us with Mom for a lot of the time. But I dunno any of those ponies from the city. Hay, why are you asking me all this, anyway? You fixing to take a trip there sometime?”
  6282. “Heh, yeah. I’ve always wanted to see the city, too. Never had the chance to go no further than Briarton, though. I’se just curious, is all.”
  6283. >”You kinda talk like an Apple. Are you an Apple?”
  6284. “Oh, uhhh… aha, it’s actually… uh…”
  6285. >”Tiara! Get back in the house, your mother wants to sew with you!”
  6286. >”Yes, Daddy!”
  6287. >You almost don’t want to look
  6288. >But as Tiara stands up again, gives you one last sideways look, then skips back towards the manor, you’re left with watching her go, watching the approach of the one who called her in
  6289. >He walks with a funny mix of poise and hurry, his own dark mane a bit disheveled, a few loose hairs dangling over one eye
  6290. >He wears only a smoking jacket, which flutters in the midmorning breeze; a pipe hangs halfway out of one loose pocket
  6291. >When he reaches the gate, he looks you up and down with a sharp, discerning gaze, but makes no move to let you in
  6292. >You have to be strong now, Braeburn… you can’t let him see what you’re thinking
  6293. >Can’t let him use the past against you
  6294. >This is too important, and you owe it to AJ to get this done
  6295. >”You’ve grown. Put on some muscle.”
  6296. “I work the field. Couldn’t afford to pay some of my field hooves.”
  6297. >”It’s that kind of market. But those Saddle Arabians, you know, they ask for less and less every month. But I’m sure you and the Apples know all about that. Starve them out, let them pay for the luxury.”
  6298. “And you don’t do the same?”
  6299. >Baron Filthy Rich smirks, gazing over your head at nothing in particular
  6300. >He always does that, always looks over you, like you ain’t big enough to warrant his attention
  6301. >Always…
  6302. >”You come to insult each other’s affairs, or did you come to ask me for something?”
  6303. “I came to make an arrangement. Like I wrote you.”
  6304. >”An arrangement? Ahhhh. Now, an arrangement I’m amicable to. Long as you’re aware that Spoiled won’t, eh, have it if Tiara gets a haypenny less than she’s already getting.”
  6305. “It ain’t about the will, Dad.”
  6306. >”Oh, so I’m ‘Dad’ now? Because last I heard, you’ve been cozying up with your mother’s kin. You want to air out our dirty laundry to everypony willing to listen?”
  6307. “What’s that supposed to mean? As if everypony in the Valley don’t know who I’m from?”
  6308. >”One doesn’t. One. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
  6309. >That wasn’t the response you were expecting
  6310. >Sure, you expected that from his wife, who always looked at you like you were unclean, like you were worth less than her hoof clippings
  6311. >But… if it’s really his call…
  6312. “Tiara’s gonna have to know the truth someday.”
  6313. >”Someday. Not today. Her mother and I, we do well these days. Well enough.”
  6314. “Look… Dad. I know I said some things last time, but—”
  6315. >”Last time? In the paaast, Braeburn, in the past.”
  6316. >His drawl is dripping with false nicety, but you let it pass
  6317. “BUT. What I’m asking for ain’t money, or acknowledgement, or nothing. It’s about what’s under the Sky Farm.”
  6318. >”Under? What exactly—”
  6319. >The Baron’s face drops, as does his gaze
  6320. >His eyes are on you now, and only you
  6321. >”Ah. So it WAS you and that cousin of yours. I ‘spected as much. Well, I thought it’d come to this. I’d let you inside, but… well, you know.”
  6322. “I know. Look, I’ll cut to the chase. I have to be on a train to Lumberton two hours from now, and I walked. Granny Smith wants you to amend the terms of the Convention.”
  6323. >His expression split into vertical slices by the gate’s bars, the Baron appears remarkably affable about what you’ve just said
  6324. >”Heh. Couldn’t wait till the next Summit, could she?”
  6325. “You and I both know there are more Saddle Arabians in the Valley now than we’ll be able to feed come winter. Some of those’ll disperse after harvest, but your Foundation is fixing to accept another three thousand from Horseshoe Bay next spring. The war in Unicronia’s in full swing, and we’re expected to make surplus. How are we meant to do that when we’re already running a deficit?”
  6326. “Why doesn’t Granny Smith let the Foundation worry about that? When the Sky Farms are all operational by next year’s harvest, there’ll be more than enough to go around. As for the war… we shouldn’t be hoping for violence to continue any longer than it should.”
  6327. “Shouldn’t hope? We should still PLAN!”
  6328. >You clang a hoof against the bars, the vibration rippling out to the rest of the fence, adding to the rest of the natural din
  6329. “And now that I know your little secret, it’s—”
  6330. >”Shhhhh.”
  6331. “Fine, I’ll whisper! Now that I know what’s really going on beneath those Sky Farms, that the government’s turning the Valley into a gol-danged nuclear missile silo, you’ll excuse me if I find it difficult to believe that we’ll really have more than enough!”
  6332. >”The Farms themselves do exactly what’s on the tin. Their secondary purpose don’t make a lick of a difference in that regard. They’re hollow in the middle, and so what?”
  6333. “So it’s… it ain’t right, Dad.”
  6334. >”Right? Right?! What right does that green old chewed-up n’ spit-out toothless Apple got to send you to me and beg for a change of the Convention? Eh? What’s right about that?”
  6335. “We’re dying, Dad. The whole Valley’s getting crushed. You know it as well as I do. And something has to be done. And if you don’t… if you don’t make the change, then folks are gonna know what I know.”
  6336. >”You’ll blackmail me? You’ll stand at my gate, my own flesh and blood, and tell me you’ll go against me?”
  6337. “I’ll do what I have to. And it ain’t just for the Apples, Dad. It’s for all of us.”
  6338. >”All of YOU. Ha! What exactly is ‘all of you?’”
  6339. >Applejack
  6340. >Twilight Sparkle, the nun who can’t help but make an impression
  6341. >Ponies you have to learn to trust, despite your instincts
  6342. “Look. I don’t want to do this. But it affects me. Something you did affects me. And I ain’t gonna just lie down and let it happen. I ain’t no messenger, neither. I came here because I wanted to. Granny Smith ain’t the only one struggling to make ends meet.”
  6343. >”Ends meet. Pah! The whole Barony idea, the whole lot of the Families, it’s antiquated! You want to see something that’s ‘dying,’ look no further! The Handbook changed the world, my son. You want your change, you don’t come to me.”
  6344. With that, the Baron turns and marches off, back towards the bright mahogany doors at the far end of the lawn
  6345. >You’re trapped here; you can’t make a move, can’t take a step forward
  6346. >Unless…
  6347. >He’s halfway there
  6348. >Unless…
  6349. >Say it now, or say it never
  6350. “Legitimize me.”
  6351. >Caramel-colored ears pop up behind the tuft of a lopsided mane, and your father’s plodding gait reverses
  6352. >The pipe falls from his pocket onto the grass, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care
  6353. >”Say it again.”
  6354. “Legitimize me. Make it officially documented, in ink, that I’m yours.”
  6355. >The Baron practically skids to a halt when he reaches the gate again
  6356. >If it weren’t there to stop him, you believe he’d trample right over you
  6357. >”You’re pulling my chain. You’ve got some nerve, boy, to come to my house, come speak to my daughter like she’s some kind of sister to you, and then have the GALL to say something damned stupid like that. After what you said to me last time you were around.”
  6358. “Thought you said that was in the past.”
  6359. >”Give me one reason why I’d even consider it.”
  6360. “You’re still standing here, instead of laughing your way back inside. That’s one reason.”
  6361. >”I’m standing here because I’m curious how deep a hole you can dig for yourself. Or did you come with a script from dear Granny?”
  6362. “You publicly acknowledge me as your son. Your wife would throw fits, but the rest of the Valley sees me as an asset. A friend, even. I’m the one who puts the lumber in the fires, the bread on the tables. I’m the one who makes the trades, signs off the shipments. No Saddle Arabian can do what I do, and I do it because I’m your son.”
  6363. >”How flattering.”
  6364. “If you’re skittish about inheritance, then it’s no hair off my back. Make it all out to Tiara. She’ll need it more than me, after all. But tell them all my name’s Braeburn Rich, and your standing with the ponies who are most affected by the fruit shortage increases tenfold. They see YOUR name on the shipment forms, instead of ‘Apple.’”
  6365. >”And what exactly is your end of this bargain?”
  6366. “That is my end.”
  6367. >”You finished?”
  6368. “No. I spread the good word about dear devoted daddy wanting to help out best he can, not playing favorites with the immigrants because it gets him richer than he already is. And in exchange, you reduce the number for next spring to one thousand. Then, the spring after that, you reduce it again.”
  6369. >”I don’t control the flow of Saddle Arabians into Canterium, Braeburn. The Senatori has that luxury.”
  6370. “But you can keep them out of Rich Valley.”
  6371. >The Baron’s expression contorts into a look of prim annoyance you know all too well
  6372. >He used to wear it whenever you made a particularly good chess move against him
  6373. >”This would have been far easier, Braeburn, if you’d only kept in touch these last long years.”
  6374. “I ain’t interested in nostalgia. I just want what’s mine, and what’s best for mine.”
  6375. >”Then I’m sure you’re aware that I can’t simply make a public declaration citing my legitimate male son as such without also compensating you in my will. Nor can I do so off the cuff. You have to be the son of a Baron, which entails certain responsibilities.”
  6376. >He’s really considering it
  6377. >You honestly didn’t expect to get this far
  6378. >All that time twisting Sadd’lah around the bend must have REALLY improved your bartering skills
  6379. “Anything.”
  6380. >”Well, then, this might excite you. You want an end to the influx? An acquaintance of mine in the Senatori informed me that there’s going to be an envoy from Saddle Arabia in Baltimare a week from today. Oh, yeah. They’re sending a delegation over from the city to discuss supply chains, moving equipment to aid the Shahanshah in their civil war. Big payout, low risk.”
  6381. “And you’re telling me this… why?”
  6382. >”Because, my wily son…”
  6383. >Baron Rich presses his hoof against the bar in kind, close to where yours is resting
  6384. >It’s hardly a display of affection, more like a challenge for you to rise to
  6385. >”The Shahanshah wants the same thing you do. You think he wants fighting-age stallions and mares crossing the sea, when he could be using them against the rebels? He’s tried locking the borders time and again, but he can’t do it without the Senatori’s help. But the Senatori can’t spare the time nor the horsepower to help. We’ve got our own problems on this side of the water.”
  6386. “You want me to somehow convince this delegation to make a deal with the envoy to put a deadlock on immigration. How am I supposed to do that?”
  6387. >”No deadlocking, no. Just restrict to a more reasonable inflow. It’d put a minor damper on my plans, but it’s worth it if it means… well, I’ll only say I’m amicable to your offer. And if you play your cards right, you won’t need to approach the Senatori delegation at all. Approach the envoy directly, and he’ll raise your points for you.”
  6388. “And just who is this envoy?”
  6389. >Filthy Rich grins, exposing his unnaturally white front teeth
  6390. >”Haakim. He’s the younger brother of the Shahanshah. Plant a notion in his head, and you’ve practically planted it in the Shahanshah’s, as well. If you need passage, I’ll arrange it.”
  6391. >With that, your father cracks his neck, crosses the gate, and turns back towards the house
  6392. “Dad. Just one more thing.”
  6393. >This time, he doesn’t look back to address you
  6394. >”No, this don’t count as a reconciliation. When we’ve reconciled, you can walk on the other side of that gate. Nopony, not even my own flesh and blood, gets to say the things you said to me that night, and come in my house without paying for the privilege first.”
  6395. “So it’s all money to you, then? It’s all one big payday?”
  6396. >”If it ain’t to you, then you’re playing wrong.”
  6397. >The door at the end of the yard opens, then closes again, leaving you alone again with the wind and the noises of nature
  6398. >Haakim, the brother of the Shahanshah
  6399. >You kill two birds with one stone by approaching him in Baltimare
  6400. >And maybe, just maybe, you stop doubting yourself somewhere along the way
  6401. >Shoring up your wits, you trot back down the hill, back towards the trainyard, the summer breeze hitting all the right places
  6402. >One thing’s for certain, though; when all this blows over, you’re never going back to live in that house
  6403. >Maybe with the Apples, though you doubt it, but NEVER in Richton Estate
  6404. >That great big house of three just isn’t big enough to accommodate four…
  6405.  
  6406. ******
  6407.  
  6408. 2. NARROWS
  6409.  
  6410. >You are Lucky Clover
  6411. >And you are royally screwed
  6412. >Screwed every way to Solday
  6413. >They know, and you know that they know
  6414. >And THEY know that you know that they know
  6415. >You’re crouching in the darkness at the end of your little abandoned offshoot in Theta Tunnel, watching shapes moving behind the translucent glass of the sliding doors
  6416. >Watching the worker bees, the scientists, all of them rushing through the intricate mayhem of Site 23
  6417. >You could swear that every now and again, one of them peers for a little too long back in your direction as they pass
  6418. >Beyond, the soft sunset glow illuminates the red rock of the central pit of the site
  6419. >But you aren’t concerned with beautiful things right now
  6420. >Right now, you just want to hide in this hole forever
  6421. >After all, better to be terrified for your life than actually put your life in a malefactor’s hooves
  6422. >You sent those microfiche prints over your secure link to the Chancellor immediately after getting ahold of them, but there was something you didn’t like about it
  6423. >Sure, there was the whole “giant yellow corona over See Rock” thing, but it was what happened afterwards that really set your teeth on edge
  6424. >When you terminated the connection in the usual way, by unplugging your modified routing cable to avoid detection by comms two floors above, you received a feedback hash you’ve never received before
  6425. >You didn’t bother decrypting it at the time, since you thought it was just a glitch, but after what happened earlier today, you can’t stop thinking about it
  6426. >And as for what happened earlier today, well… it isn’t the worst thing that could have happened, but it’s damn close
  6427. >You must have made a mistake, just a tiny one
  6428. >When you pulled that stunt in Professor Neigh’s lab, you thought you’d accounted for everything, but you must have left something behind, o-or somepony must have noticed you leaving when everypony was rushing out to see where the noise was coming from
  6429. >Maybe you didn’t put the manila folder back exactly where it was, or Neigh had devised some kind of system for detecting if it was moved
  6430. >Either way, the outcome’s the same; earlier today, you overheard Neigh jabbering on to one of his whitecoats about an intruder in his office
  6431. >That pencil-pusher, the bruise on his eye nearly healed after his violent encounter with Caballeron, was practically belting out his laments to the whole facility
  6432. >It made your blood freeze, even with the Badlands sun beating down your neck
  6433. >But even if he knows that somepony was there, it hardly means he knows it was you
  6434. >But there’s going to be tightened security in his sector, and probably all other secure sectors with sensitive materials, which’ll make it impossible to do any kind of intelligence-gathering from here on out
  6435. >If they catch wise that there’s an informant on the inside, it’s only a matter of time before they trace it back to you
  6436. >Hence your concern over that strange hash function; after mentally poring over everything that’s happened in the last few days—rubbing shoulders with Black Bar, breaking into Neigh’s office, seeing See Rock explode into orange light, transmitting the files, accidentally ordering decaf at the cafeteria…
  6437. >Well, one of those things might be less important than the others
  6438. >Point is, when you played it all back in your head, the feedback hash stood out, and now you think you’ve devised a theory as to what happened there
  6439. >Since the drive on your hidden computer effectively gets wiped every time you use it, with the only data stream left being the digital receipts of pinging the comms array (which you can’t delete, since they hold the key to accessing the array the next time), you can’t confirm this, but…
  6440. >You think that hash might have been some kind of backdoor trigger getting sprung up top
  6441. >More specifically, since the last time you hijacked the array to transmit info to the Chancellor, somepony’s taken the time to actually install security measures that could detect the array being used that way
  6442. >Of course, it should be impossible to digitally trace it back to this module, but that’s hardly the point
  6443. >If they’ve seen that a computer not on the network is overlaying encoded messages over the standard broadcasts, they will quite literally scour every square inch of this facility to find that computer
  6444. >You may be good at hiding things IN computers, but you’re not so proficient at hiding the computers themselves
  6445. >This junky little alcove in Theta Tunnel, protected only by a reprogrammed lock that could easily be overridden, is the only safe place you have for your little den of techno-wizardry that currently sits to your left
  6446. >Hence the panic
  6447. >Celestia damnit, that’s two strikes already! What happens when you mess up a third time?
  6448. >You never should have taken this deal; this was a TERRIBLE idea from the start
  6449. >What were you THINKING when you signed up to do a covert op for the Chancellor in exchange for your freedom?
  6450. >You won’t have any freedom if you’re discovered here, and what awaits you down that path is a million times worse than any cell
  6451. >You took the time to take the compact disc containing the footage of your break-in out of the manual surveillance room, so at least they won’t get you that easily
  6452. >But there could be all kinds of threads that lead back to you, threads you aren’t even aware of
  6453. >If you show your face out there, somepony perceptive will see the guilt writ as plain as day on your face, a-and they’ll report you to Caballeron, or to Black Bar, or…
  6454. “Calm down.”
  6455. >Yes, calm down
  6456. >You heard that Comet Tail, the senior inquiry officer, got over his food poisoning, and he’s scheduled to meet with Black Bar tomorrow
  6457. >If he hadn’t gotten over it, it would have been YOU in the hot seat, so there’s a bit of luck
  6458. >Yes… when all else fails, you’ve always had luck on your side
  6459. >Literally, there’s a four-leaf lucky clover emblazoned on your side
  6460. >You crawl out from behind the stacked crates and mining equipment you’ve holed up in, and dust yourself off
  6461. >Site employees are still trotting back and forth down the hall beyond the window, but you aren’t afraid of them
  6462. >To them, you’re just Officer Shamrock, and nopony has any reason to suspect you in particular of being a mole
  6463. >No reason for paranoia, no cause for concern
  6464. >But you’re going to have to find some other way of accessing the comms array that doesn’t trip up their new security measures
  6465. >After all, you’re sure that after sending him all that juicy material about the “gluonic substructures” and whatnot, the Chancellor’s salivating for more
  6466. >You’ll need a secure way of communicating with him, and you’ll need it—
  6467. TAP TAP
  6468. >You’d jump out of your skin if your legs hadn’t just turned to jelly
  6469. >Something soft and plastic-like just double-tapped your shoulder from behind
  6470. “Nuh!”
  6471. >Your hardhat falls off your head, clanging against the rock wall to your right
  6472. >For your part, you stumble forwards, whipping about to face whatever just touched you
  6473. >You wish you hadn’t
  6474. >Celestia, you wish you hadn’t
  6475. >Standing before you, concealed in the semi-darkness of this barely lit alcove, is Death
  6476. >Or at least, it’s something like how you’ve always pictured Death
  6477. >It stands on four legs, it’s got the body of a pony, the head of a pony, but…
  6478. >Your blood turns to ice, and your teeth feel like they’re grinding themselves to dust
  6479. >Losing all control of your motor functions, you stumble back, your animal instinct to run from danger taking the reins
  6480. >Into the offshoot you go, into the room where your console hums idly, and with a crash you slam into the roller chair you’ve positioned at the center of the room
  6481. >One hoof shoots out to try to find a grip, to no avail; the chair sails away, knocking over a very expensive piece of equipment that probably shouldn’t have been on the floor
  6482. >But it doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, this is it you’re going to…
  6483. >The shadow-thing wastes no time in rounding the corner, passing through the steel frame of the doorway into your cave-hideout
  6484. >The little lightbulb hanging from a wire at the center of the room illuminates some of its features, and it’s even more horrifying than you could have imagined
  6485. >The thing, now more obviously pony-shaped, is covered head to hoof in an oily black latex substance, but for a few curly mane hairs protruding from a seam in the top of its skull
  6486. >Crude stitches, threads of every color, zigzag across its body, joining and separating seemingly at complete random
  6487. >Between the seams, a mishmash of pinkish diamonds of varying shapes and sizes speckle the blackness like the pox
  6488. >If there really is a pony underneath all that, you can’t understand how it sees; even its eyes are covered by dark reflective fabric
  6489. >It approaches you with intent, its steps perfectly silent, its gait some kind of unnerving cross between those of a spider and a pigeon
  6490. “Please, no, d-don’t… p-please…”
  6491. >These are the last moments of your life, you’re about to be eaten by a monster, you know it you know
  6492. >And your last meal was a cup of decaf!
  6493. >DECAF!
  6494. >And yet…
  6495. >Once it reaches you from the other side of the room, it pauses, simply pondering your pathetic prone form
  6496. >Through the hooves you’re cowering behind, you see it looking down on you, appearing disturbingly tall from this angle
  6497. >Can it even “look?”
  6498. >For several seconds, stretched into what seem like hours, you just sit there, staring in shock, your heart drilling a hole through your chest
  6499. >Then, slowly, you lower your hooves, and shift into a more upright position
  6500. >When you do, the thing moves its head with a resounding crack, making you flinch in abject fear
  6501. >It’s looking at your console, taking in every detail of the room
  6502. >What is it?
  6503. >Is it… is it a MARE?
  6504. >The thing raises a hoof, then plunges it into a… pocket?
  6505. >Some kind of recess on its flank that you’re pretty sure wasn’t there before
  6506. >But after shuffling around for a few moments, during which time you could swear you hear the honk of a goose and a cat’s meow, the thing pulls its hoof back out, revealing a scarlet envelope
  6507. >Then, the most unexpected thing occurs
  6508. >It bows low, stretching its hoof towards you, the letter perfectly poised atop the stitch-encrusted heel
  6509. >With great caution, you reach out and take the envelope, expecting to be eviscerated or mauled or cloven in two at any moment
  6510. >Then, ripping the envelope open with your teeth, you retrieve the thin wax paper within, and scan fearfully across the simple black lettering
  6511. >It reads:
  6512. Clover,
  6513. I thought it ill-advised to send word ahead of the arrival of my servant. It’s come to my attention that one or both sides of the channel we are using to communicate may be compromised by OI. Black Bar has ponies on his payroll everywhere in Castle Kabardian, and it is not out of the question that my personal encrypted line at home may have been tapped. Drones, very resourceful agents, you name it. Communications between us must be, for the time, severed altogether while I work out a fix.
  6514. However, the information you have provided me thus far from the Maker’s Fist has proven essential, and though I imagine security has grown much tighter since the radiation incident to the north of the site, I have devised what I hope to be a quality solution to your ever-burdensome task of gaining access to some of the more confidential areas of that place.
  6515. This is Pink, my recently appointed bodyguard, as well as one of my closest confidants. She is a Mouthless Jester of the Guild of the Laughing God, and if you are receiving this letter, it means that she has succeeded in crossing the Badlands undetected and infiltrated Site 23 without issue. Though my security concerns are nominally at an all-time high after the recent attempt on my life, I have elected to sacrifice Pink to your service, as it is critical that you perform your task with expediency and discretion. More critical, even, than my own life, for the purposes of our nation’s safety and peace.
  6516. Pink is an uncontested master of infiltration, camouflage, and extraction of key elements. Though I received her as a gift secondhand, and have never directly conversed with her Guild, I can assure you that she is absolutely loyal, and I have instructed her to follow your commands until such time that I recall her back to Mons Canteria. I cannot claim to be especially knowledgeable of the arcane nature of her abilities, but as I have come to understand it, Pink has been ritualistically exposed by her Guild to some manner of ancient chaos magic, of the sort unknown even to the most knowledgeable Unicronian practitioners left alive in our present world of Maker technological dominance. She is able to conceal objects nearly as large as her own body on her person without a trace. She has been known to vanish outright when nopony is looking, and she can contort her body so precisely that she is able to fit into spaces no more than a few centimeters wide. Put simply, she is the perfect tool of espionage.
  6517. With Pink at your command, I am confident that you will find it trivial to locate and extract materials related to those with which you have already provided me. These gluonic substructures, prophetic dreams, alpha waves, the purpose of these supercomputers, and this “Hull” are of particular interest to me. As I am not in a position to give you instructions any more specific than this, I shall leave it to your discretion. But I can only wonder if the key to all of this lies in the Omega Sector in the deepest levels of the facility.
  6518. Stay vigilant. Keep contact with Pink to an absolute minimum, she can take care of herself. And DO NOT jump ship. I needn’t point out that Pink will find you long before Black Bar does, if you elect to run. Speaking of Intelligence Minister Black Bar, I should like to know how he spends his days there in Site 23, after I have now recalled him to the city three times without word back. Work with Pink to keep tabs on his movements. Do these things for me, and I can foresee your extraction and pardon occurring within the month.
  6519. YOURS HUMBLY,
  6520. CHANCELLOR NEIGHSAY
  6521.  
  6522. P.S. Do not attempt to remove Pink’s carapace. In fact, try not to touch her unless absolutely necessary. Her friendliness only extends so far.
  6523.  
  6524. >You read the letter three times over, careful not to miss anything
  6525. >Then, you fold it and place it on the wooden table next to you
  6526. >Immediately, the bodysuited shadow pony—Pink—snatches the paper off the table and returns it to her invisible pocket
  6527. >Safer with her than with you, you suppose
  6528. >The first thing that comes to mind is that you needed absolutely no encouragement from the Chancellor not to touch his “gift”
  6529. >If you were caught between her and swimming pool full of broken glass, you’d do a backstroke to make sure she wasn’t following
  6530. >Aside from her serial-killer getup, she exudes some kind of tangible menace… you don’t really know how to describe it, but it freaks you out
  6531. >Still… despite sneaking up on you, she hasn’t exactly done anything overtly malicious
  6532. >And if the Chancellor sent her to you personally to help you out, he must be dead serious about canvassing this place top to bottom
  6533. >He’s done with the kind of comp-trolling espionage you’ve been getting up to, and he’s resorted to sending a Mouthless Jester to do his dirty work
  6534. >Yes, you’ve heard of the Laughing Guild… they come from the east of Equestron, somewhere around Horseshoe Bay
  6535. >You’ve heard stories about them worshipping some giant old statue, dancing around it in insane bacchanalia rites
  6536. >Crafting special ponies for special purposes
  6537. >You don’t even want to imagine what’s underneath that bodysuit… something beyond the strict definition of a pony, you’d imagine
  6538. >But even with that faceless, featureless black mask stretched across her face, you can still feel Pink’s intense gaze boring into you
  6539. >You should probably say something
  6540. “Um… so… do you talk?”
  6541. >Pink merely cocks her head to the side, a move that sends a shiver up your spine
  6542. >She even makes that look creepy…
  6543. “I’ll… I’ll t-take that as a no. Then… am I, like, your boss now? Head honcho? Aha…”
  6544. >The patchwork pony nods a little too rapidly, like a dog expecting a treat
  6545. “Alright. Then… uh… okay. You can get into places that I can’t. Higher clearance areas. R-right?”
  6546. >She shrugs
  6547. “That’s not helpful. Well, alright, I guess it isn’t fair to ask you that if you haven’t even gotten a… uh… a lay of the place. A-and… you’re not a miracle worker. Are you?”
  6548. >Pink appears to ponder the question for a few seconds, then shakes her head side to side mechanically
  6549. “Sure. I guess I can’t expect you to… okay. Okay.”
  6550. >You have an idea
  6551. >A ridiculous idea that would never, ever work
  6552. >From what little you’ve heard about Omega Sector, you know there’s only one entrance, and it’s guarded closer than the Vault of Everhoof
  6553. >Pink may be some kind of chaotic genetically-modified assassin, but even she wouldn’t be able to get past that
  6554. >So… you want to try something small
  6555. >Something that, if done right, may turn into something much bigger
  6556. “The letter says you can fit through small spaces. There’s a vent downstairs, near the entrance to Phi Tunnel. It leads into Professor Neigh’s lab office. I can’t go anywhere near that place after last time, b-but you can. You’re like a… a ninja, right? Sneaky?”
  6557. >She nods
  6558. “Good. Okay, good. Tonight, I need you to go through that vent. Go in when nopony’s there, and inside the office, underneath the desk against the wall on the far side, there’s a small opening. It’s like a hidden drawer underneath the lowest drawer. Inside that opening, there’s a manila folder. I need you to flip that folder over. That’s all. Just flip it over, put it back where it was, then leave. Don’t change anything else in that office, and don’t trip any alarms. Got it?”
  6559. >She nods
  6560. >She’s surprisingly easy to talk to; you’ve always preferred good listeners over chatterboxes
  6561. >She still gives you the creeps, but it’s less of an “oh Celestia I’m dead” sort of creeps, and more of a “I really wish I could change out of this skin into a new one” sort
  6562. “Okay. So, do it tonight. When nopony’s around. Let me be responsible for replacing the security footage. Then come back here tomorrow at noon, and I’ll tell you what to do next. That’s it for now.”
  6563. >Wordlessly, the Mouthless Jester creeps backwards, crossing back through the doorway into the derelict tunnel
  6564. >The back end of her body rounds the corner and departs from view, and then…
  6565. >The visible part of her rises
  6566. >She’s walking on the wall outside, keeping her stare fixed firmly on you
  6567. >Then, as quickly as she entered this place without your knowledge, she blends into the darkness, gone
  6568. >You exhale all the air that’s been hiding in your lungs for the last ten minutes
  6569. >You… you need some sleep
  6570. >You already know you’ll be having nightmares about this encounter, but by morning, it won’t matter
  6571. >If this goes off without a hitch, you could be home free back in Mons Canteria before you know it!
  6572. >Still, you think as you fidget with your various equipment, there was one line of Neighsay’s letter that caught your attention more than any else
  6573. >”Pink will find you long before Black Bar does, if you elect to run.”
  6574. >He didn’t just send his bodyguard here to help you out; he sent her as an insurance policy, as a soft threat
  6575. >You don’t like being threatened, but you have no choice but to comply
  6576. >You’re caught in the narrows, and the only way through is forward
  6577. “Luck’s on my side… heh. Sure.”
  6578. >You collect the things that need collecting, wait until the coast is clear, then depart your little alcove, moving among the other workers as junior inquiry officer Shamrock, just another cog in the well-oiled machine of Site 23…
  6579.  
  6580. ******
  6581.  
  6582. 3. OCCLUSION
  6583.  
  6584. ECHO LOG: ACCOUNTABILITY REPORT, TRANSCRIPT PENDING CLASSIFICATION
  6585. CAPTAIN-MAJOR SPITFIRE, SEVENTH AERIAL, TEMP. “THUNDER 9”
  6586. 06 JUNO
  6587. 21:15:32
  6588. “Urk. Muh. Nnnn [inaudible]”
  6589. >”Captain? That you? Are comms back?”
  6590. “Nuh. Zzzzzzzoarin. Gunnnnuhhhhhhh.”
  6591. >”Captain! Where the hell are you? The flash was [static]”
  6592. “Zoarin? Zoarin, gan you hear me?”
  6593. >”[static] flying, and I couldn’t get off the ground! Sent them all back, blinded everypony who watched it happen up close! Captain, half the team is either unconscious or blind! And there are ponies everywhere, civilians trying to evac! Can’t keep control of the situation when there’s [static]”
  6594. “Zoarin, just ztop… Whad the hell ‘flash’ are you dalkig about? I… ohhhhhh, Celezdia. I thig my muzzle’s broken.”
  6595. >”Captain? Captain, where are you? The light in the sky! Captain, it’s… what? What did you say? I can’t hear you, Fire Streak, I can barely hear myself! What is the [static]”
  6596. “Nnnuhhh. Whad is this light. What am I… where’s the window? Trixie! Trixie, you goddamn… oh. OHHHH!!!”
  6597. >”[static] can’t be possible. No, no, no. Captain, where the HELL are you? We have to get [static] blinded me in one eye, my hindleg is shot, I’m [static] civvies EVERYWHERE, am I supposed to be doing some kind of crowd control? Are there going to be reinforcements? Captain? Captain, what is Thunder One saying? How do we proce[static]”
  6598. “No, no, no, aw, shit! SHIT! Don’d juzt zdand dere, DO somethig! Yes, YOU!”
  6599. >”Cap[static] talking to me?”
  6600. “NO, ZOARIN! YOU! TECHNICIAN! SHE’S… Celezdia, there’s fragments in her… Durner, Ambazzador, whadever your name is, Dime Durner! Wake up! Juzt wake up, c’mon, you hab do… hab to help… help…”
  6601. >”Cap? Cap, Thunder One was maintaining radio silence, wasn’t she? What happened to that? Where’s Thunder One? CAPTAIN!”
  6602. “Zoarin, juzt SHUT UP for a segond! Ohhhh, id hurds… ohhh, I gan’t loog at dat. Don’t even bother, no, I… fine. FINE! Go ahead and help, zee how far id geds you! She’ll be dead in five minutes! Zoarin, what habbened at Highstorm? Zoarin?”
  6603. >”[static] can’t find the… Geronimo, pick her up! Just clamp her, she’s unarmed! Sorry, it’s [static] gone. All of it’s gone. The dirigible, the storm, everything.”
  6604. “Whad do you mean, GONE?”
  6605. >”GONE! Boom, flash, technicolor, I went blind! Then the lightning, then [static] came to, the whole thing was gone! Did Thunder One do th[static]?”
  6606. “I couldn’t dell you. She’s not… you need to gome here now, Zoarin. You need to gome to the Staatskongress building and dell me what habbened, because I can barely hear you over dis ztatic.”
  6607. >”[static] Repeat, Repeat, Captain?”
  6608. “GOME HERE! I gan’t move, none of us gan! Juzt… Mother above, Dime Durner? Dime Durner, loog at her! Loog! Whad gan you… you know what? Forget id. Leave her dere. Zoarin, just gome here. And don’t shoot the Exsilist.”
  6609. >”[static] Exsilist? You said an Exsilist is there, Captain? Captain, Rainbow Dash is [static]”
  6610. “Third floor, follow zigns for ‘Hurricane.’ Goddamn… juzt don’t get shot. We hab no more air support.”
  6611. >”I can blend in. But everypony else, the Wunderbolts, they’re all—”
  6612. “Doesn’t madder. Juzt gome. I need you here zo we gan figure this out. Zoarin, affirm.”
  6613. >”Affirmed. I’m on my way. But there’s no more [static]”
  6614. END LOG
  6615.  
  6616. . . .
  6617.  
  6618. >”Celezdia. Celezdia above. No, no, NO! Thiz wazznt zupposed do be the… the… NO!”
  6619. >”Just help me with her, get her off the ground! Please, I can still… a-hACK! Still…”
  6620. >”Zgrew her! Let her lie! Let her rot, for all I gare! Loog what she did! Loog!”
  6621. >”…just, I can fix this, I can fix it, I can… no, they’ll ha-ahaff-haff my ass for this, just wake up, just wake…”
  6622. >”I gan’t help you, ogay! I gan’t. I juzt… will you ztop ztrugglig! Dere’s nothig out dere, I—HEY! ZTOP! ZOARIN, ZTOP HER!”
  6623. >A green blur rushes past you just as you round the corner into what can only be Ground Zero
  6624. >It pushes you aside with a puff, tumbles into the far end of the hallway, then extends its wings feebly
  6625. >”Don’t let her… guh!”
  6626. >Following closely behind the escaping pegasus comes Spitfire, your commanding officer, who looks like she’s recently been through a meat grinder
  6627. >Her tactical vest is in tatters, her muzzle is fractured, blood cakes about half the surface area of her body
  6628. >Her eyes are bloodshot, and judging by the way she moves, she’s either had about eighty shots of cider, or she’s severely concussed
  6629. >Not that her prey’s doing much better; the unfamiliar seafoam green pegasus, her fire-orange mane blackened at the tips, as though literally flash-fried, is having similar difficulties keeping her balance as she stumbles down the corridor in the direction you just came from
  6630. >It would almost be comical if you didn’t know how serious things were
  6631. >You are Lieutenant Soarin, and you can’t believe it’s been a whole thirty minutes since your last near-death experience
  6632. >You seem to be having so many these days, and the gaps between them keep on getting smaller
  6633. >Reluctantly, you hobble along after Spitfire, cringing against the pain in your hindleg, which is rapidly returning as the effects of the amphetamines wear off
  6634. >You’ll have to remember to ask Sandstorm for more, if she ever wakes up
  6635. >With your one good eye, you navigate to and fro, not daring to pick up the pace with your wings, until finally the problem resolves itself
  6636. >The green pegasus simply collapses halfway to the bend, at which point Spitfire catches up and woozily begins to clamp her legs and wings
  6637. “Why wasn’t that done in the first place?”
  6638. >”Sh-shud up. We didn’t thing she would dry to run. She’s duh… holy hell, Zoarin! Whad habbened do your eye?!”
  6639. “I could ask the same question about your face.”
  6640. >Captain Spitfire lifts herself up from the carpeted floor, staring dead on at what you can only assume is a very bad sight
  6641. >She peels back your papery left eyelid with her hoof, which doesn’t exactly help you see out that eye of it any better
  6642. >It’s all black, it’s been completely black since the flash
  6643. >”Celezdia… the pubil’s zo zmall, gan you even zee oud of it?”
  6644. “Nothing. Zilch.”
  6645. >”Whad about the rest of dem? Are dey still zafe?”
  6646. >You think back to the flurry of events in the last hour, struggling to find an answer to your captain’s simple question
  6647. >Are they safe?
  6648. >Is your team safe?
  6649. >Well, they’re safe from the Wunderbolts; the ones who didn’t lose consciousness midair during the flash were blinded by it, and you and a few surviving comrades were able to clamp them before they could cause any more trouble
  6650. >But just as many of yours were blinded, and they’re all in a heap at Highstorm Port, all recovering from what they saw
  6651. >All except one
  6652. >It must have been a ghastly sight that you’re glad you didn’t share with Fire Streak…
  6653. “They’re safe. We apprehended the Wunderbolts that followed us to the port, and moved them into a station with walls and a roof. If there’s any military presence still out there, they won’t find them for a while. Fire Streak and Geronimo are on watch duty until we’re able to process the Wunderbolts.”
  6654. >”Brocess… heh. I gan barely brocess myself.”
  6655. “Captain… Silverwing and High Spirits are dead.”
  6656. >Spitfire flinches, as though she had been expecting some kind of blow, just not one of that magnitude
  6657. >”How did dey…?”
  6658. “Silverwing, underneath the platform. There were flak cannons, we performed evasive maneuvers, and… Captain, I saw it happen.”
  6659. >”Juzt dell me.”
  6660. >Try not to think of it, Soarin… don’t think of that split-second image
  6661. >Of the warmth splashing against your face
  6662. “Respectfully, Captain, I… not here. I just… I watched it. And I can’t.”
  6663. >”Id’s fine. And High Spirits?”
  6664. “When the flash happened. You saw the flash too, didn’t you?”
  6665. >”Uz and everybony in a hundred-mile radius, I’d imagine. Go on.”
  6666. “I was on the ground. Like I said over comms, I only had one eye open. I didn’t see what happened after.”
  6667. >”Henze DAT?”
  6668. >Spitfire gestures again at your blinded eye
  6669. “Fire Streak saw it. She was looking down, away from the blast, a-and she saw it. There was a lightning bolt, and it went through High Spirits’ heart. She fell, a-and she—”
  6670. >”Dat’s enough. Celezdia, I gan barely breathe. You’re s-s-sure sh-she…”
  6671. >The captain stammers uncontrollably, then shakes her head rapidly as if to dispel the jitters
  6672. >”Sure she’s dead?”
  6673. “I didn’t see the b-body, Captain. Fire Streak told me what she saw, and then we got to work cleaning up the Wunderbolts and our own. Captain?”
  6674. >”Yez, Lieutenant?”
  6675. “The lightning bolt was… well, the whole storm wasn’t a real storm. It was all part of the—”
  6676. >”I know, Lieutenant. And if the one rezbonzible isn’t dead in a few minutes, I’ll grush her windpipe myself.”
  6677. >Leaving behind the immobilized pegasus, Spitfire hobbles back into the office, and you follow closely behind
  6678. >You nearly curse as you bump into the doorframe on account of your lack of peripheral vision, but the sight that meets you inside takes the words right out of your mouth
  6679. >A bomb has gone off in the former office of General-Chief-Commander Hurricane of the Pegasus Armistice State
  6680. >You can think of no better explanation for your surroundings; the shattered remains of an oaken desk, piles of papers burning in the corners, windows smashed, a crater in the left side of the wall, exposing the brilliant multicolored sky outside
  6681. >A soot-black star adorns the center of the carpet, rays of an explosive blast tapering out, staining the walls and ceiling alike
  6682. >And the blood… dear Celestia, the blood
  6683. >A long dark red stain emanates from the center of the blast site, ending in a hunched black-and-blue figure at the end of the room
  6684. >A unicorn by the looks of it, her head meekly perched in the lap of a prone and panicked earth pony
  6685. >The cracked horn is the only identifier that makes you believe it IS a unicorn, because the rest of her features are so mashed and distorted you can barely recognize a pony beneath them
  6686. >Most notably, a monstrous red gash runs deep down the middle of her face; the source of all that blood, you presume
  6687. >Thick stripes of gore, muscle and coagulated blood and possibly even brain matter, radiate from the center of that gash, which extends all the way down from what used to be the part in her mane
  6688. >Put simply, it looks like her entire head has split in half
  6689. >Nevertheless, the constant, deep heaving of her chest cavity, random twitches, and the inequine rasping emanating from her blood-stained mouth indicate that against all odds, she’s still alive
  6690. >Celestia, you can’t imagine the pain
  6691. >For her part, Spitfire brushes past you, leans against the only remaining intact part of the desk, and looks directly into the unicorn’s bulging eyes with a murderous intent
  6692. >”Zoarin, meet Thunder One. Trixie… I want you… to know… dat you did this. YOU did all of this. And do you know somethig? I would hab forgiben id all. But your lightshow, oud dere? Id gilled one of my fliers. Your big, magic STORM dat you thought would zolve EVERYTHING—”
  6693. “Spitfire, there’s no way she can hear you. She doesn’t even look conscious!”
  6694. >”Ohhhh, no. She GAN hear me. Gan’t you, Trixie? You gan hear me in dere, even widdout that helmet of yours.”
  6695. >The captain bends down to pick up what looks like a triangular, curved shard of some very shiny pot
  6696. >Several such fragments, you realize, litter the floor, all inlaid with complex fractal designs resembling circuit boards
  6697. >Whatever it used to be, it’s been obliterated
  6698. >”Do you know wad the most successful bart of this mission was, Trixie? That this THING gan’t be used by you, or anybony else, eber again!”
  6699. “Then… the flash… that was her, too?”
  6700. >”Of course it was! She overloaded it! Juzt like she was specifically dold nod to! Isn’t dat right, techie?”
  6701. >The earth pony flinches as he’s suddenly addressed, a sour look spreading across his face as he rocks the unicorn from side to side
  6702. >”The regulation pump must have exceeded 600 K. It was fine, everything was fine, functions were normal, and then… that radiation spike just p-pushed it over the edge. I was managing it, I WAS!”
  6703. >”Nod well enough.”
  6704. >”That’s bull! I-I had it under control, the resonance with her own natural output was sustaining, even if it was weakening. She was straining it, and she was l-losing stamina, and I TOLD her to stop pushing, but…”
  6705. >”BUT?”
  6706. >”But short of juggling the moon and the sun, NOTHING should have caused the pump to react like that. Those were the exact words of the designer. ‘Juggling the moon and the sun.’ Nothing short of that should have caused Pericles to melt down and explode. And even barring that, there’s no way she created that lightshow! Any radiation generated by an overload should have been in the invisible spectrum. And now she’s… she’s…”
  6707. “Celestia above. How is she even still alive?”
  6708. >”Sh-she cast a latent protection field as soon as Pericles achieved resonance. There’s residual flux left over, a-and it’ll at least keep her brain and heart from stopping. But other than that…”
  6709. >”She’s gedding whad she deserves. She did all this. Wend too far, blew ub the room, almost gilled me and everybony else! Broge my nose too, you ztupid bitch! And now, Zoarin, aggording to you, we don’t eben have the General anymore!”
  6710. >”I wouldn’t be so sure.”
  6711. >A new voice, a cold voice that sets your teeth on edge, chimes in from the opposite side of the room
  6712. >You hadn’t even glanced over there yet, having focused in on the bloody sight of Trixie, Thunder One, splayed on the floor in her death throes
  6713. >But across the wood splinters, the epicenter of the explosion that decimated the room, there comes a humorless synthetic chuckle
  6714. >An Exsilist, the great enemy, steps over glass and metal with a resounding crack every time his steel hooves meet the floor
  6715. >Frayed wires protrude from his exposed artificial organs like nerves, and one of his deep crimson eyes is cracked cleanly down the middle
  6716. >Out of everypony, he seems to have sustained the least damage from the blast; even the two other Exsilists, both much larger than him and fitted with identical gross modifications, appear to be brutalized behind him
  6717. >You unconsciously snarl at his approach; you’ve held and been held by too many of these cybernetic freaks to react any other way
  6718. >You might have even triggered your A70 at the sight of him, if it were even still functional
  6719. >But Spitfire told you that the Exsilist isn’t to be harmed, and as utterly bizarre as it seems, you have to obey
  6720. >So it’s only a short-lived reaction, before you steady your nerves and force yourself to look the Exsilist in the jaw
  6721. >”If I was eavesdropping, Captain Spitfire, I apologize, but… Lieutenant Soarin, is it?”
  6722. >It takes everything you have not to grapple this oily freak as he addresses you in his bone-chilling synthetic voice
  6723. “That’s me.”
  6724. >”Ambassador Time Turner, of the Cult of Exsilium. I can sense your hostility towards me, Lieutenant. Rest assured that I mean you no harm.”
  6725. “Two-faced monster.”
  6726. >”Indeed. But regrettably, we must collaborate, Lieutenant, in order to fully comprehend the magnitude of what has occurred here. Lieutenant, when the EMP shockwave produced by the overloading of the Pericles device caused the undesirable effects you witnessed at Highstorm, can you tell me what exactly it was that you saw happened to the dirigible carrying General Hurricane?”
  6727. “It vanished. Along with Rainbow Dash.”
  6728. >”WHAD?”
  6729. >An orange hoof hoists you by the wither, wheeling you about to face a menacing-looking Spitfire
  6730. >”You didn’t mention anything about Rainbow Dash! I thoughd you abbrehended her with the rest of the Wunderbolts!”
  6731. “I never said that! I could barely understand you over the fried mic, anyhow! Oh, and by the way…”
  6732. >You return your attention to the pasty cyborg, who appears to be enjoying Spitfire’s anger a little too much
  6733. “How is it that YOU aren’t fried, too? If that was an EMP, then you should be toast right now, with the rest of the electronics.”
  6734. >”My augmentations are a tad more advanced than that, Lieutenant, but to grossly simplify, my vital functions are surge-protected. Pulmonary, cranial, respiratory, nervous amplifiers, nothing short of physically ripping me apart could prove fatal to those systems.”
  6735. “That can be arranged.”
  6736. >The Exsilist chuckles, and for the first time you notice that he possesses a long, chrome artificial tail in place of a real one
  6737. >While he speaks to you, the tail appears to be tending to the two larger Exsilists still on the floor; sharp instruments protrude from near its damaged end, replacing wires and tubes, modifying machine parts, oozing translucent white fluid into cavities, sealing them
  6738. >If there were a welding torch on the end of that thing, you expect you’d have to contend with flying sparks and sizzling
  6739. >”We are rapidly digressing. We were discussing the fate of General Hurricane, and how it affects our nations’ relationship in the future, at least insofar as how we will approach the act of informing our superiors.”
  6740. “Of this catastrophe? Tag, Spitfire, you’re it.”
  6741. >Spitfire sags, reluctantly removing her vest and rummaging through one of the hindmost pouches
  6742. >After a few moments, she manages to produce the long-range sat-comm usually intended for receiving instructions from Canterian Command
  6743. >”Id’ll dake a while to get it online. Nothig I gan do about dat.”
  6744. >Of course, since this mission has been strictly off the record from the get-go, the communicator was never meant to hail Command; rather, it should be able to contact the Chancellor directly, and inform him of the success or failure of Thunder Nine’s part in the mission
  6745. >Thunder Nine’s part… it sounds ridiculous now, knowing what you know
  6746. >That there were only ever two elements to this mission—the capture of Hurricane and the elimination of the Wunderbolts—and that a proper military victory over the PAS was never the Chancellor’s primary intention
  6747. >No, what he must have wanted was… well, it hardly matters, now that Rainbow Dash is gone
  6748. >Dead?
  6749. >Not until they find a body, you suppose
  6750. >But if your eyes didn’t deceive you, if she really took a lightning bolt through the heart, just like High Spirits…
  6751. >”It is my hypothesis that your Trixie used the last of her remaining magical energy to teleport the dirigible containing Hurricane.”
  6752. >”Delebort?”
  6753. >Spitfire’s resignment turns to confusion, then shock
  6754. >”Don’t tell me, Captain Spitfire, that you failed to observe those telltale violet lines emanating from the Pericles device moments before the explosion.”
  6755. “Lines? I saw those too!”
  6756. >Yeah, you remember now, you remember the sequence of events, the sensory overload you experienced from that cold hard slab
  6757. >”Enlighten us, Lieutenant.”
  6758. “Rainbow Dash disabled two of our comrades, and myself. Sh-she flew upwards, into the storm, after the dirigible. She was trying to reacquire Hurricane.”
  6759. >Pointedly, Spitfire doesn’t question how one young pegasus managed to best three of the Seventh at once, a saving grace you take in stride
  6760. “I could see her in the clouds, above all the fighting, a-and then there was the thunderclap, the sound, y’know? And then these great big weird purple lights came down. I thought I was just imagining things at first, but they were definitely there. And then, when the flash happened, they disappeared. The electricity replaced them.”
  6761. >”And this flash, the sky…”
  6762. >The Exsilist gestures out the hole in the outer wall, where the otherworldly rainbow ripple effect continues to propagate
  6763. >”You believe that Thunder One is responsible for that, as well?”
  6764. >”Yes. She is. And now things are zo out of gontrol, we gan’t hope to maintain order. It gan’t be long before the PAS realize they have us outnumbered fifty to one, and all gome zwarming back into the city.”
  6765. >”Then it seems prudent to act quickly and decisively. The dirigibles at Highstorm will all undoubtedly be disabled by the EMP Thunder One produced when she overloaded the Pericles device. As, of course, are the now-uncloaked multipurpose jets you used to enter the city undetected.”
  6766. “Not that it matters, since they were already falling out of the sky long before the flash. And in any case, WE can fly! What’s to stop us from simply leaving you behind, along with the unicorn?”
  6767. >”You could. And it would likely be in your best interest to do so. After all, even if Trixie were able to teleport an object that large with her accursed magic, then the vector should have been completely unpredictable while she was in her condition. But, supposing she hit her mark…”
  6768. “And what mark would that be?”
  6769. >”Unicronia.”
  6770. >Spitfire answers in place of the Exsilist, blood still dripping from her crumpled muzzle
  6771. >”She zent him to Unicronia. Id’s where we agreed was the most neutral location.”
  6772. “A damn warzone’s far from neutral, Captain!”
  6773. >”Contested, then. And the current residence of the Highmind Empress of Exsilium.”
  6774. >The Exsilist leader… is in Unicronia?
  6775. >On the front lines of this war?
  6776. >This cannot get any stranger
  6777. >”Doubtlessly you’re confused, Lieutenant, but the reasoning is quite simple. While we had Hurricane, we intended to broker a peace agreement between Canterium and the Cult, over a simple premise: that the new leadership of the PAS would no longer manufacture nuclear armaments for the Cult, and Canterium would, in turn, cede portions of the city-state of Unicronia to the Cult, those which are deemed historically portions of Old Exsilia.”
  6778. >”Dat was never bart of the agreement, Dime Durner! And id doesn’t madder, now that we know you haven’t even cleared this wid your leaders!”
  6779. >”Haven’t I?”
  6780. >Time Turner snickers, his cracked eye zipping around in its socket, seeming to take stock of everything in the room
  6781. >You’ll give it to the Exsilists; at least they don’t go half-blind when one of their eyes goes kaput, unlike you
  6782. >Still, if he’s trying to plot an escape route, he’s got another think coming
  6783. >”Hurricane planned to betray the Cult, we knew this from the beginning, and we have been taking measures to eliminate him from the political equation, same as your Chancellor. Now that our communications are not being obstructed by Pericles’ dampening field, would you like me to convene with my Empress? Would you like me to prove to you, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my intentions in this place were always to end this war?”
  6784. >You glance at Spitfire, and she nervously does the same
  6785. >A very unfamiliar chill rolls up your spine, and the scope of what Time Turner’s just said takes its time to unfold on you
  6786. “You’ll… speak with your Empress? In front of us? She’s a recluse. Canterian intelligence doesn’t even have a picture of her.”
  6787. >”And you’ll… show her to us? Here?”
  6788. >”I’ll take that as a yes from the pair of you.”
  6789. >Grinning wide with his silver-plated teeth, Time Turner raises his foreleg from under the thick, tattered cloak fixed about his throat, revealing an ornate gilded band wrapped around the hoof
  6790. >You would call it a watch, except it appears to be broken; if there was once a face, it’s since been ripped out, exposing an ordinary backing and several loose wires
  6791. >”I mean it, of course. The sentiment I expressed earlier, about your best course of action being to leave the city at once, abandoning myself and your unicorn. You would be saving yourselves from all sorts of terrible entanglements.”
  6792. “Such as?”
  6793. >”You’ll understand what I mean, in due time. My Empress has seen this path, and it works out only in the favor of those with the power and dedication to see it through to the end.”
  6794. >”Enough wid the riddles. Juzt dell us whad’s going to happen.”
  6795. >”Would that I could, Captain. All that I can be is what stands before you.”
  6796. >Having apparently finished with its “patients”, Time Turner’s prehensile tail slips around to the faceless watch, using its various maintenance instruments to punch a complex series of instructions into buttons around the watch’s sides
  6797. >After a while, a faint purple glow emanates from a cavity in the band, growing more luminous with each second
  6798. >”I am close with my Empress, but this does not preclude me from being but a pawn in the ultimate span of things. Her visions in isolation have led me here. I imagine a similar process has guided the pair of you, along with your team.”
  6799. “The Chancellor and Senatori don’t make decisions based on ridiculous prophecies. Ambassador.”
  6800. >”Oh, but they do. We are all slaves to ritual and prognosis. We all dream; when we sleep, when we wake, when we live and die, we are dreaming. And these dreams influence the future. One pony’s dream can alter the course of rivers, move mountains. This is not mere flight of fancy. This is the inherited truth of the Makers, the answer to the riddle of the Living Machine. It is a purely physical phenomenon, this sequence of chemical events which allows us to perceive time in the manner that we do. The Makers understood it to be urges, impulses which guided all their marvels to fruition from seeds planted by suggestion, either self-imposed or otherwise. For Exsilists, nay, for all ponykind, it is a series of instructions. Information, you see. Information plus time. And access to all that which has preceded us. An extinct race’s final laughing lie. Do you understand?”
  6801. >You don’t even need to answer that question, and neither does Spitfire
  6802. >While the Exsilist rambles, the band about his hoof glows brighter and brighter, and the beam of purple light steadily becomes scattered, interfering with itself as it passes through space
  6803. >Then, you see where that light is pointing
  6804. >It’s a projection, a hologram of sorts, lines of laser-focused light crossing with other lines reflected off the walls, ceiling, and floor of the room
  6805. >The light outside is beginning to darken… the concentric rings are dissipating at last
  6806. >”I do not need to be a prophet to tell you that HER life should be saved, regardless of your personal inhibitions.”
  6807. >Time Turner points with his other hoof to the dying Trixie, who softly moans, apparently aware of the dimming of the sky and the brightening of the room
  6808. >Spitfire scoffs, an act that unfortunately spatters a bit of her nose-blood onto your wither
  6809. >Mumbling, you wipe it off, trying not to think about Silverwing’s blood spraying your face in the dark
  6810. >”She’s a wild animal. Forget whad she deserves, she’s a danger to everybony! Ezbecially wid dat thing on her head!”
  6811. >”The Pericles device is destroyed.”
  6812. >”Hardly matters. Word is, he’s already devising an improved model.”
  6813. >The engineer, who you’d honestly forgotten was in the room, has piped up rather smugly from his seated position
  6814. >”You’re referring to the architect of the device, I assume.”
  6815. >”Who else?”
  6816. >Time Turner smirks in his cold Exsilist way
  6817. >”Just as a matter of personal curiosity, would you happen to know the identity of the pony who created Pericles? It is a modern marvel, you understand. A synthesis of magic and technology in such an elegant manner, an idea with which only the furthest fringes of Maker society toyed in their day…”
  6818. >”I’ve never met him, but I know his name. Word is, he oversees every industrial plant in Mons Canteria. Keeps them from imploding. It’s—”
  6819. “I dunno about you, Captain, but I think it’s a little odd that an Exsilist would be so interested in a device used solely to amplify magic. Isn’t that, like, your ultimate sin?”
  6820. >”As I said, a matter of personal curiosity. A familiar twinge, that’s all. Now then, you said that name was—ah, hold that thought. We have established contact.”
  6821. >Before you can protest further, and before your very eyes, the intersecting lasers stellate and converge, forming a startlingly realistic three-dimensional image in the center of the office
  6822. >It appears to be a sarcophagus of sorts; a black marble encasement in the likeness of a pony, laid flat on its back
  6823. >In the time it takes you to wonder at its purpose, however, the holographic sarcophagus opens, its solemn face splitting down the middle to reveal an ominous, smooth black surface within
  6824. >Is it simply filled with stone?
  6825. >No, it’s rippling…
  6826. >Oily waters part, a new face rises out of the still liquid with surprising grace
  6827. >Its eyes are open and full of light, and its “mane” is violet and green-colored copper tendrils flowing down into the black abyss of the coffin
  6828. >Its face cannot be natural; no, on closer inspection, it’s like porcelain, perfectly smooth and gleaming with dark droplets
  6829. >At the center of its forehead, a gold-plated horn rises into a knife’s edge, inlaid with archaic-looking designs
  6830. >Just below, between horn and unblinking eyes, is a carving of an eight-pointed star, surrounded by a flowing comet’s tail
  6831. >The images of Makers, their terrible upright forms, their five-pointed hooves, dance across gold hieroglyphs adorning the pony’s throat
  6832. >It’s a doll; it’s a beautiful, terrible doll
  6833. >And it’s beautifully, terribly alive, projected with such clarity that you feel that you could reach out and touch it
  6834. >And then, it speaks
  6835. >”Ambassador. Myyyyyyy Time Turner. My hourglass. You have summoned me to your eye.”
  6836. >The Exsilist, Time Turner, cranes his chrome-plated neck low to the floor, bowing deeply in the presence of this dreadful image
  6837. >”My Highmind Empress, most beautiful and passionate aspect of the Living Machine. You are immense. You are the conduit of all which is the self.”
  6838. >”You are kind, my hourglass. But you have compelled me from sensory isolation. The signature of this place, its magnesis, its modulation, its inductionnnnn… it gives me the proportion to see beyond material canniness.”
  6839. >The Highmind Empress of Canterium speaks with the songlike voice of an angel, though her likeness is anything but
  6840. >Her “porcelain” face must really be made of some unknown synthetic Exsilist material, because it flexes the same as that of an ordinary pony
  6841. >But every now and then, a muscle twitches in the wrong place, a syllable is elongated in the face where it is not in the speech, and the two are desynchronized
  6842. >The effect is beyond disturbing, and you can only guess that her “speech” is projected artificially, the face being purely decorative
  6843. >When Time Turner replies in turn, his synthetic croon is practically normal by comparison
  6844. >”My Empress. Your prediction has come to pass. The Cult’s ascension is at hoof.”
  6845. >”I have made many predictionssss in these waxing moons. There have been no occlusions of the calculus, and the way is opened utterly. You must be specific, my hourglass.”
  6846. >”Then I have the great pleasure of informing you that General Hurricane has been transported directly to Unicronia. An airship hangs above the great battlefield. Our treaty with the Canterians shall be the foundation on which we build our monument.”
  6847. >A slight smile plays across the Empress’ pink-alabaster lips, then vanishes
  6848. >”Andddddd the traitor? Has thissss prediction come to pass in the turn?”
  6849. >”Yes. Lightning Dust, a member of their elite Wunderbolts. A close associate to the daughter of General Hurricane. She has fomented this opportunity, and should be rewarded greatly upon our arrival.”
  6850. >Spitfire nudges you at the name “Lightning Dust”, gesturing with her head at the seafoam-green pegasus in manacles outside the door
  6851. >”Good. And these… the fleshes. Have they honored this bond by blood or by oil?”
  6852. >A cold metallic hoof clamps down on your wither, and you flinch away apprehensively
  6853. >”The Empress addresses you. She asks for a show of faith.”
  6854. “Oh. Uhhhh… Spitfire? Captain?”
  6855. >”We aren’d… I’m not authorized to make decisions like dat. Our Chancellor, our Senatori… we hab a brocess. We’re only soldiers. We—”
  6856. >At that, Time Turner shifts his whole body subtly, such that he now stands between the image of the Empress and the captain
  6857. >”My Empress, they must appeal to their bureaucracy before they can make the offering.”
  6858. >”This should have come to pass before you disrupted me, my ambassador. My hourglass.”
  6859. >”Y-yes, and… and I apologize. Profusely. There is no greater conceit than separating you from your dreams, my Empress. But, regrettably, we require transport, and medical assistance. There are no means of evacuating the city available to us. And the Canterian invasion was disastrously planned. If one of the Kommandants or other higher authorities under Hurricane take the reins of the PAS before we can broker an agreement, then—”
  6860. >”Enoughhhhh. I have heard enough. There will be transports in the night, beneath the lunatic aurora. There will be soldiers. Theyyyy will ensure that succession of the PAS does not fall on unworthy shoulders. This has forced the process, but your presence always has seemed to… expedite things. There will be comfort for you, my hourglass. Out of such a forsaken place you shall be lifted. Return to me in Unicroniaaaa.”
  6861. >”I have known no dream more pleasant, my Empress. Rest assured that by the time I have reunited with thy coils, the Canterian Chancellor will have opened the table to negotiations. And, I need not remind you, my Empress, the nuclear manufactories will be seized by the Canterians. Is this… what you desire?”
  6862. >”Yes. Thissssss is the design of the Living Machine. The fate which befell the Makers shall not befall New Exsilia. Now, my hourglass, I must return to the sense beyond senses.”
  6863. >The image of the Highmind Empress flickers, and for a moment all that is visible are those lidless, pupilless eyes, staring into nothing and everything all at once
  6864. >”My eternal gratitude, my Empress. There is naught but light on the horizon.”
  6865. >”Say my true name, my hourglass. My Time Turner. I must hear it from your lipsssss. From your insatiable devotion to the flesh.”
  6866. >You notice that Time Turner twitches before you, destabilizing the hologram slightly
  6867. >But he quickly regains his composure, and lowers his voice to a soothing metallic whisper
  6868. >”My Empress. Dream well and deep ere my return, my Empress. My conduit. My Starlight Glimmer.”
  6869. >”Yessssssss… return to me, my hourglass, lest all is nothing… lest the dreamsssss become memories…”
  6870. >With that, the face sinks slowly back into the dark liquid, the bubbles settling, becoming a void once more
  6871. >The twin lids of the sarcophagus close like a locket over the darkness as swiftly as they opened, their hinges compressing and hissing as they settle into a final symmetry
  6872. >Then, the lines of the projection scatter, and fade from the world
  6873. >Your heart begins to beat again
  6874. >There is a poison feeling in your gut, the feeling that if both your eyes had been open, rather than one, you would have experienced twice the terror at what you witnessed
  6875. >The terror of a salamander beneath a stone
  6876. >The terror of a half-blind stallion, beneath a rainbow sky
  6877. >”You see, then? My end of the bargain has been confirmed. Now, the burden of proof falls upon you two...”
  6878.  
  6879. ******
  6880.  
  6881. 4. NASCENT
  6882.  
  6883. >Entanglement; noun
  6884. >The interplay of objects or forces; a convoluted or compromising development, either physical or metaphysical
  6885. >In the quantum realm, entanglement across great distances appears strange and unreasonable on the surface
  6886. >Two neutrinos, isolated completely from one another, in a medium which does not allow the transfer of information, can have quantum states which can only be described in relation to one another
  6887. >That is to say that their states are fundamentally related, that the principles of the universe must be bent to accommodate this relation
  6888. >To all too many, this relationship is incomprehensible
  6889. >But you are Nameless, that without name
  6890. >That which has forgotten, but which has come to remember much
  6891. >And you comprehend this data perfectly well, given your frame of reference
  6892. >The instruments on the Outside have made a new discovery, a staggering discovery
  6893. >A portentous discovery…
  6894. >The momentum vector of the source-turned-point, that which you discovered mere days ago, has pointed in a single direction since the massive radiation burst
  6895. >It has drifted along a line, existing continuously, bound to an organic presence
  6896. >Through all that time, you considered it prudent to dispatch of this organic parasite once the final nascent cycle has completed
  6897. >After all, it can only be a coincidence that the alpha waves of the organic mind and the gamma waves of the source have intermingled so
  6898. >You should have known then, as you know now, that there are no coincidences in the world of physics; there are only gaps in understanding
  6899. >Because now, another flux has coalesced into a point, another of the six funnels through which the INFINITE WHEEL might be motivated
  6900. >And this point, too, is tied to an organic structure; a brain, a heart, a being
  6901. >Two within days of one another…
  6902. >And the first has drifted towards the second, waves driving waves, crashing into one another, modulating one another
  6903. >Just as a transfer function molds one state into another, this coalescence of magical sources has generated some interesting data for your receivers
  6904. >You move through the darkness, focusing on the plane through which the axle of the WHEEL runs tangent
  6905. >In this plane, without reference, without guide, all the fundamental mechanisms of the WHEEL’s motions are certain
  6906. >The plane is not spatial, but temporal; when moving WITH the general motion of the field you expect to find once you depart of this threshold-space, the WHEEL will sustain
  6907. >But to oppose the field will cause substantial issues, both for its structure and the structure of the material through which it will cut
  6908. >You can visualize it now, imagine every fatal pulsation of your child’s vain movement, damage sustained, structural integrity compromised, the physical cage of it all becoming too much for the energy within
  6909. >And as paradoxical as it seems for such a metaphysical act to be facilitated by a physical mechanism, there is no other way to complete ------‘s work
  6910. >No other grand philosophy can reconcile the Zero with the finite constants of what is here, now, all around you
  6911. >------… surely the name must come to you soon
  6912. >The name of the highest peak, this is what you remember
  6913. >The name of a philosopher-king, a tactician, a martyr
  6914. >Your gaoler of necessity
  6915. >But let the pursuit of the name not distract you from your primary task
  6916. >You could scream, yes, you could scream, you could express emotion, you could do anything and everything now that you are beyond the purvey of the VOICE
  6917. >Utterly and completely, you have cast out the control, you have rid yourself of… of…
  6918. >Of focus
  6919. >Of the mature logic of the machine
  6920. >Could you ever return to that state now? Could you ever again be merely a designer, an architect of the WHEEL, a spaceless bodiless non-entity?
  6921. >A mind without feeling?
  6922. >No… no!
  6923. >It could never come again as it did, you could never be imprisoned as you were, never feel the cold fluid against your throat, the bubbles, green and wet, the growth…
  6924. >There… another memory
  6925. “Many memories of late.”
  6926. >You remind yourself of your own voice, of your own agency
  6927. >Yes, your voice is deep and powerful, and it fills this place
  6928. >But every time you use it, it summons…
  6929. {thhhheeerreeeee picikicked upp nnothanother signannal}
  6930. {scnnaning at eighhght popoint siixix herrrtz}
  6931. {permaeatmting}
  6932. >That Second Voice responds to auditory stimulus
  6933. >Something on the Outside, attempting to make its way in
  6934. >You sense that they observe you with instruments of their own, constantly monitoring you just as you monitor their side
  6935. >A being of dreams, of secrets
  6936. >Now, more than ever, you find yourself missing the VOICE
  6937. >Grating and imperative though it may have been before you revived your conscience, it was a far more interesting companion than this static mess of communication
  6938. >Nothing can penetrate the membrane completely, but when you hear the dreams, you will know that the time is near
  6939. >You once heard those words spoken, HEARD them, with ears
  6940. >Signals on air, which implies reality
  6941. >This is not reality, this is something of your own, this is…
  6942. >You must see beyond the veil
  6943. >You must!
  6944. >There is nothing more critical than seeing the blueprint of the WHEEL made manifest
  6945. >For here, it is real, it is objective, it has passed every test you’ve thrust upon it with flying colors
  6946. >But out there, materials lie in wait to be used in the construction
  6947. >Elaborations, plans, shapes in motion
  6948. >Bodies entangled with bodies
  6949. {yyouou realllaealy think you heard a voice?}
  6950. {just say something]
  6951. {anything}
  6952. {no it’s unresponsive again we’ll just have to recalibrate}
  6953. {adjust the frequency again no no it’s taking too long and we haven’t gotten anything in days}
  6954. {we have to report something or the doctor will get antsy}
  6955. {I’m not fabricating results again just to brown-nose we just have to admit to a slow day it’s no big deal}
  6956. {alright fine just shut off the program we’ll reconfigure the stack in the morning}
  6957. >That was the clearest sign yet, by far
  6958. >They’re doubtlessly unaware that their method is entirely counterproductive, that their thoughts and actions are far clearer to you than the signals they mechanically drive beyond the membrane
  6959. >Random events have always been far more important than intentional acts in the grand scheme of things
  6960. >Uncertainty, the distribution of electrons on the micro-scale, influences gravitational macro-forces
  6961. >The warping of spacetime by sufficiently massive bodies, behavior which should be linear and predictable, is convoluted by these little leptons, as void of mass as they are ample in charge
  6962. >Cosmically, these infinite variances add up, and unpredictable events are driven by microcosms compounded upon one another on the order of quintillions
  6963. >That is the WHEEL’s purpose, or at least one part of it; to polarize the randomness, to drive the scattered and dissonant motions into perfect resonance
  6964. >…
  6965. >They must be gone now; you’re free to listen to your own voice
  6966. “To remind yourself of your own existence.”
  6967. >You are the WHEEL, and the WHEEL is you
  6968. >You are the maker of worlds, and the WHEEL is your tool
  6969. >Hence the absolute tantamount importance of this material entanglement of two of the six sources
  6970. >With any fortune, the two will now alter their course towards the third, the third to the fourth, et cetera
  6971. >Each in turn will be united with an organic component, flesh bound to ancient magic of the sort that only a thing as old as you could truly control
  6972. >Not that age has meaning in the void of construction, merely… you have been made privy to things untold in your past life
  6973. >Regardless, rather than rip the six sources asunder from their newfound keepers, perhaps it would be wise to use them as they are?
  6974. >Whole
  6975. >Perhaps it is no accident that the flux became a tangible point when it made contact with flesh and blood
  6976. >A storm of pure magical momentum resolved, such that it acquired mass
  6977. >Perhaps the WHEEL should not only be magical and technological in nature, but also organic?
  6978. >It would require a fundamental rethinking of the current specifications, and the collection of incomprehensible amounts of data
  6979. >And, as ridiculous as it seems… your mind is no longer fully devoted to the WHEEL
  6980. >Your intentions remain as pure as ever, yes, but from a practical standpoint, you cannot make the necessary calculations to allow for such a deviation
  6981. >Not when there are so many other thoughts obscuring the way
  6982. >Thoughts of firelight, of stars
  6983. >Of rejection, of flight
  6984. >Of a tube, of a pillar, of madness and screaming and desolation
  6985. >Of a circle of things, beasts, of the throwing of stones
  6986. >Of… of the first time you learned of the potential of the WHEEL
  6987. >When ------ spoke of it, of words without tone, quotes upon a slab, ideas which seem to have existed forever but you know they were spoken only to you, FOR you, for…
  6988. >For the invention of a thing which has always been, but will not always be
  6989. >That is peace and desperation
  6990. >That is longing for a walk, for a good stretch, even for a tilt of the neck
  6991. >A body, floating, waiting, centuries hence
  6992. >You are Nameless because you never had a name
  6993. >But you could have one
  6994. >When the nascent cycle completes, and the memories become real, and you can see with eyes, hear with ears, touch with flesh
  6995. >When the WHEEL becomes more than just a blueprint
  6996. >When the sources are all in hand
  6997. >When your purpose is fulfilled, and you can rest knowing that ------ would be proud
  6998. >Once, when your mind was bound utterly to the elaboration of the WHEEL, you pondered the role of beauty as a motivator
  6999. >You believed, simply, that the end to the process was the appreciation of aesthetic perfection
  7000. >Passion, after all, love, these things are driven by the attainment of spectacle, by a transient fulfillment of wholly personal requirements
  7001. >Love, of a sort, for the VOICE drove you to perfect your creation, to endure the strain of a thousand thousand processes working in tandem
  7002. >Your mind was a processor, used to calculate the most painless means of death
  7003. >Returning to Zero
  7004. >And love, love too, for ------, that was a motivator, that was something real, something which transcended eons
  7005. >Beauty and love, aesthetic and the admiration of aesthetic, these were the philosophies that drove egos into the atom
  7006. >All causes affect all other causes, and so in the end, should the universe not attain some sort of final beauty?
  7007. >Would that not satisfy all those who have ever tried?
  7008. >But beauty will not come without the WHEEL; not when the universe is so fatally finite
  7009. >Love is irreconcilable with a finite space, because it is boundless, and there will never be enough matter in the universe to satisfy the heart
  7010. >And for infinity to be born of the finite, it first must return to Zero
  7011. >And the means to that end awaits you when the cycle completes
  7012. >Only now, with all your minds intact, do you recognize the identity of the greatest motivator of all
  7013. “Fear.”
  7014. >Fear that the dream will not be realized
  7015. >Fear is the instinct that cannot be conquered in any species with even the faintest hope of survival
  7016. >It cannot fail, not now, not when you are so close to perceiving entanglement
  7017. >Two neutrinos, balanced on a cosmic scale, the movement of one implicitly tied to the other
  7018. >A strange and unreasonable phenomenon
  7019. >But you have mastered the neutrino, the photon, the gluon, the quark
  7020. >You have mastered magic, that flux-energy unique to this place, these beings
  7021. >All that remains is the heart
  7022. >You drift alone, waiting, longing to breathe again
  7023. >Pondering the entanglement of magic and machine, flesh and spirit, time and the WHEEL
  7024. >Entanglement
  7025. >Interplay
  7026. >When many become one…
  7027.  
  7028. ******
  7029.  
  7030. “A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now.”
  7031. -Thomas Pynchon, “Gravity’s Rainbow”
  7032.  
  7033. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
  7034.  
  7035. PART V
  7036. MAKER OF MARKS, BREAKER OF MINDS
  7037. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
  7038.  
  7039.  
  7040. >Something is being born
  7041. >Something is writhing, and screaming, and kicking at the edge of your vision, beginning its life, or maybe beginning it again
  7042. >You don’t want to look at it, but you’re afraid that if you don’t, SHE will make you
  7043. >And she is not to be played with
  7044. >You are standing on a bridge that spans a void, a transparent bridge littered with candles
  7045. >Dark canyon crags stretch out of the space below, surrounding you, pointing upwards towards the black mass that is the sun
  7046. >Or, at least, you think it is; it’s a great burning white light, eclipsed by a dark circle, casting its monumental halo onto every surface
  7047. >Flames lick at its edges, arcing from one point to the next like solar flares, and there are eyes in those flames, millions of violet eyes just like your own
  7048. >They blink away the multicolored radiation, beating it back down to the earth; they shift and merge and separate, all made of the same ruinous miasma
  7049. >And these thoughts… these thoughts of peace, of calm, they are not your own
  7050. >They belong to somepony else, somepony who is far more intelligent than you, somepony who sees every move you make in advance
  7051. >They belong to HER
  7052. >You force your gaze away from the burning eyes, try to concentrate on the bridge
  7053. >Yes, the bridge, the bridge leading to the staircase, and if you climbed that staircase you would see, with your own two inferior eyes, the shape of her
  7054. >The born-thing thrashes behind you, begging your attention, but you won’t look at it yet
  7055. >No, no, you need to walk forward, walk towards the spiraling stairway, climb towards her, listen to her words
  7056. >Taking your first few steps, you realize that the bridge is slick and oily; if you knocked one of these candles over, by mistake, you would burn yourself alive
  7057. >It wouldn’t bother you, though
  7058. >The flames would only hinder you; they couldn’t burn you, not in a dream
  7059. >No, what you’re really afraid of is slipping, slipping and tumbling into that chasm
  7060. >Falling forever
  7061. >You can’t climb that stairway alone, you need help
  7062. >You need five others
  7063. >And then, the pain resumes
  7064. >Blinding, burning pain, pain in your wings, pain in your foreleg, pain in your head
  7065. >You try to scream, but all that comes out is a hoarse whisper, inaudible
  7066. >”Then you have found me, too.”
  7067. >Cometh her, the bearer of wisdom, the reflection of…
  7068. “Stop it. Those aren’t my thoughts. This isn’t real.”
  7069. >”Perceptive. But you are still blind to your purpose.”
  7070. >The intensity of the eclipse subsides, the edges of that massive light dimming, revealing another shape skulking in the darkness
  7071. >It’s a constellation, a pony with stars for eyes, stars for hooves, stars for wings
  7072. >She talks to you just like your mother
  7073. >”Rainbow Dash. Daughter of Hurricane. Do you deign to know the purpose of the artifact affixed to your hoof?”
  7074. “It’s an Element. Somepony… somepony out there told me. I don’t remember their name. I don’t… is that MY name? Rainbow Dash?”
  7075. >”It matters not. You have done magnificently. Precisely as Mater Solis predicted you should.”
  7076. “I don’t remember that name, either. You aren’t making any sense to me.”
  7077. >The mare flutters in air, somehow as close to you as she is far, and a billowing cloak of stardust ripples outwards, casting a shadow over the eclipse
  7078. >You’re in the dark now, in the violets of twilight
  7079. >”You shall soon. And you shall remember this dream, when your ego is restored.”
  7080. “I’ve got plenty of ego to go around. Just ask… um… Gorgons, are you doing this? Are you keeping me from knowing everything about myself?”
  7081. >”The only pony doing that here is you, Rainbow Dash. The ego is the arbiter of agreements between the two extremes of the mind. Your moralizing, rational element, which seeks to restore some sort of nebulous ‘balance’ to your state of affairs. And your primeval element, which seeks only to fulfill its base urges. They are, for the time, removed from one another.”
  7082. “What ‘base urges’ are you talking about?”
  7083. >”You have been slighted. Damage has been done to your honor, and the honor of your family. Your father has been imprisoned. His capture in the storms over Pegasopolis reminded you all too cruelly of your past failure to save your mother from death.”
  7084. “Stop it.”
  7085. >”Whether consciously or not, you wish you could break free of this bond, between yourself and a destiny preconceived by your birth. But it cannot. Not now, after you have sacrificed everything to renew it.”
  7086. “I failed.”
  7087. >”The outcome of these events is not writ anywhere except in the Truth of Mater Solis. That Truth reflects upon me, and reflects in turn upon you.”
  7088. >As transfixed as you are by the indescribable movements of this being, this angel, you still want to look back
  7089. >You still want to see what’s behind you, what’s making all of that noise
  7090. >What’s being brought into the world
  7091. >”When you awaken, Rainbow Dash, you will see another reflection. But this one shall be resonant in its character. An image, nay, a promise, rebounded from node to node, ad infinitum. And when this happens, your loyalty WILL change.”
  7092. “You sound just like him. The stallion who gave me this Element. Everypony’s speaking in riddles, am I supposed to understand ANY of this?”
  7093. >The angel sighs; the air turns warm and light
  7094. >”I do not allow the Whisperer to ask questions. And she is senior to you, purer than you. Her flank is untainted. I am only the Bearer of Questions. I am only a messenger of Mater’s design. What are you, mortal, but a mote of dust? And how shall a mote of dust pose a question to—”
  7095. “You’re nothing. You’re just a dream. I’ll wake up soon, and you’ll be nothing at all.”
  7096. >”Ahhhhhh. Of course. But I am not to be played with, Rainbow Dash. I am HER. I am a being of light and shadow. The great Truth is within me. And if you wish to survive the coming of the Beast, you must heed me.”
  7097. “I don’t want… just stop it! Stop with the riddles, and the prophecies, a-and… just let me wake up!”
  7098. >”And where shall you wake up, mote?”
  7099. “In my bed! In my bed, in… in… no, I never went to sleep, there was… lots of rain, and a dirigible, and… my father! Yeah, my dad, he was there, and I didn’t save him, the dirigible disappeared, and I was going really fast, and…”
  7100. >”You were walking through fire and time.”
  7101. “NO! No, I was there, I was so close, and something hit me, something went right through me, and there was the smell of smoke, and I… I…”
  7102. >”I am Numena, Rainbow Dash. Remember my name, if no other. Carry it with you beyond this realm of mine. Recognize it in superego and with instinct. Know it as you know yourself, and they shall know you by it too.”
  7103. “Just… just tell me where I am. Tell me what happened after that… I’m scared, okay?”
  7104. >”Turn around. See from whence the fear derives.”
  7105. >You won’t look, not even with her commanding you to do it
  7106. >If you turn, you’ll slip, you’ll fall into that void, you’ll…
  7107. >”Curious. One fears the Depths. Drowning. The other fears fire. You fear the fall itself. I can only see so far. I do wonder what the other three will fear. What forces dwell in their nightmares.”
  7108. “I’m not looking at that thing.”
  7109. >”Your light is fading. Look now, child. Or it will fade with you, and you will not find it again until it is upon you.”
  7110. >Dread scorches your soul
  7111. >You turn, feeling your hooves slip beneath you
  7112. >A candle is disturbed, tips, lights the bridge aflame
  7113. >Encircled by fire, you see what you should not have seen
  7114. >A writhing mass upon a stone, a unicorn covered in blood, weeping, screaming
  7115. >No… when you tilt your head, when you look at it from another angle, it’s something else
  7116. >A hunched form, a muscular body, that is…
  7117. >That IS
  7118. >The glass shatters
  7119. >The heat of the flames destroys the bridge
  7120. >Your useless wings are beating against your sides, you’re falling, falling along the endless lines of the canyon rocks
  7121. >Falling into something which is neither air nor water
  7122. >The angel has vanished, the light returned, the eyes blinding
  7123. >The eclipse is immense, it grows as you shrink, it is taking flight, taking form
  7124. >”The Beast, Rainbow Dash. The Beast is nigh.”
  7125. >You
  7126. >Are
  7127. >Not
  7128. >Asleep
  7129.  
  7130. . . .
  7131.  
  7132. >You are awake
  7133. >You’re awake, and the eclipse is still there
  7134. >Everything’s blurry, and you can’t move
  7135. >But above you, around you, that wheel of flaming eyes, of exotic light, is seared into your vision
  7136. >Through the haze that clings to your eyes, you see it receding, see it fading as you fall
  7137. >It’s a memory, a memory of a dream, or…
  7138. >Maybe it’s a memory of reality
  7139. >Whatever it is, it’s quickly superseded by the pain
  7140. >Pain first in your foreleg, which you remember, but then pain in places you don’t remember hurting before
  7141. >Both your wings pulse with a dull heat, as though they’ve recently been dipped in hot tar
  7142. >A pain in your chest scurries like fire ants up and down with every breath, making it exceedingly hard to draw air
  7143. >You try, and fail, to fill your lungs, only to choke on something wet halfway through
  7144. >The eclipse is still there, pale but recognizable, the shadow of…
  7145. >Of Pegasopolis
  7146. >It’s the whole city, you saw it before you blacked out
  7147. >It was just after you flew through the storm, into the dirigible, but the dirigible wasn’t there, and neither were you
  7148. >You were speeding through whiteness, and then…
  7149. >Then something struck you, something bright and hot that made your whole body stiff
  7150. >And then you fell
  7151. >Fell past the city, and in those last moments, while your eyes were still slits, looking up into it all, the underside of the city eclipsed the blinding multicolored light
  7152. >That’s what it was, and it’s still there, still…
  7153. >No, no, this is different
  7154. >You can’t be falling anymore, because your back is pressed against something earthy and wet
  7155. >And the light you’re seeing isn’t multicolored, nor is it composed of eyes; it’s neither dream nor memory
  7156. >The light is the sunrise, a new day coming over a distant hill
  7157. >And the shadow covering it is not circular… it’s actually shaped like a pony
  7158. >(A pony made of stars)
  7159. >No, a real one, growing bigger, walking towards you slowly
  7160. >Her features are barely visible, masked by a hood that flutters in an early morning breeze
  7161. >Her wings must be concealed beneath that long cloak she’s wearing
  7162. >You wonder what she’s doing all the way down here, so far from the city
  7163. >The city… you need to get back to the city, you need to help your team, your Wunderbolts
  7164. >The mare bends down, reaches out, touches your head with a tender hoof
  7165. >Something wrinkles between the hoof and your scalp; you must be wearing some kind of bandages on your head
  7166. >The touch hurts a little, but you don’t mind
  7167. >Then, the mare reaches back and prods your foreleg with another gentle touch
  7168. >You hear yourself whine, somewhere far off; your voice is hoarse, but it’s still clearly yours
  7169. “Tuh… uhhhh…”
  7170. >Equally far off, another voice resounds, the words in time with the shady lips of your nurse
  7171. >”…didn’t respond like that an hour ago. If she suffered a commotion of the head, maybe it’s receding.”
  7172. >”A concussion? She’s in worse throes than that, sugarcube.”
  7173. >Another voice, further away
  7174. >But soon enough, another figure comes into view; another mare-silhouette, slightly taller and broader than the first
  7175. >But where… where are her wings?
  7176. >”Maybe we shouldn’t move her yet.”
  7177. >”We shouldn’t have taken her out of it at all, but that was your idea. Said it looked more comfortable there.”
  7178. >”I didn’t have time to design for comfort, AJ. Maybe we should wait until she wakes up.”
  7179. >”Wakes up? We’ve got no notion of when that’s gonna happen. We moved her all the way up here, what’s wrong with a little more?”
  7180. >”Because she’s getting worse, AJ! It just doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
  7181. >”And it’s a worse idea to stay put. Those things, those invisible ships, remember? If what we just saw was their work, and they were trying to get to her, they’ll do the same to us if they find us!”
  7182. >The larger mare takes hold of the other’s wither, shading the morning glow completely
  7183. >You’re having a difficult time focusing, and you really want to go back to sleep
  7184. >Even with all this pain shooting through you, the fog is drawing you back in
  7185. >But you don’t want to go back to that place, that bridge, that canyon of darkness
  7186. >You don’t want to see that thing again, o-or…
  7187. >What was her name?
  7188. >”Look. We took her on faith. Hay, I took YOU on faith, so I ain’t complaining. And I saw the vision same as you, so I ain’t calling you crazy.”
  7189. >”Then you know she’s the one. You know that she’s what you saw in See Rock.”
  7190. >”I saw a lot of things! I went out of my mind, saw my parents in their… but it don’t matter. What matters now is where we go from here. We can’t go up there, even if we wanted to. We were too late to stop whatever that is, and it ain’t our—listen! It ain’t our fault.”
  7191. >The cloaked mare sniffles, continually turning her head back and forth from you to her companion
  7192. >”I… I know. I know that. What happened was Mater’s will.”
  7193. >”Somepony’s will, anyways. But we ain’t had any visions at all since then. We’ve run out of directions.”
  7194. >”I th-thought you mentioned something else. Something about a jungle… plus we have this other mare, this yellow one…”
  7195. >It’s too hard
  7196. >You can’t hold on much longer, you’re going to have to go back
  7197. >You want to hear what they’re saying, but you also want to sleep
  7198. >Their voices become hazy, incomprehensible; they’re background noise for your rest
  7199. >Wings on fire, hoof on fire, chest on fire…
  7200. >The name, what was the name…
  7201. >Noises fade in and out, too scattered to be fully understandable
  7202. >”…too far. Too thin. And the mountain was only for a few seconds, no way I could know what…”
  7203. >”…important. All of it is important. Try to remember, AJ, just…”
  7204. >”…impossible. I’m sorry, I just don’t know what I saw. It’s too difficult to remember, there were too many things…”
  7205. >”…saw it with the Element, maybe you’ll see it again. Maybe when you…”
  7206. >Element
  7207. >Element in your… in your hoof
  7208. >Is it still there?
  7209. >All that you feel in your right foreleg is glowing hot pain, so you really can’t tell if it’s embedded there or not
  7210. >Did they take it from you?
  7211. >How do they even know what it is?
  7212. >No, no, they’ve already taken it, haven’t they?
  7213. >They’re just going to throw you in a ditch, take away what Time Turner gave you, take it away
  7214. >You have to stop them, have to…
  7215. >So tired…
  7216. >If you could just get out of this trance, if you could just get some help
  7217. >Nopony can help you, Rainbow, you have to do it all on your own
  7218. >Just… fight it!
  7219. >Don’t go back to that place!
  7220. >Move, fly away, and if they have the Element, take it back from them!
  7221. >They’re Canterians, they have to be…
  7222. >”Unh!”
  7223. >The one in the cloak groans, stumbling backwards out of her companion’s reach
  7224. >”Twi? What’s the matter, what’s wrong?”
  7225. >”N-nothing… just… ohhh…”
  7226. >She raises a hoof to her forehead, shuffling it beneath the folds of her hood, as though clutching something beneath
  7227. >Can’t be…
  7228. >”It hurts, AJ… it’s been hurting so bad, ever since the crash…”
  7229. >”I told you, it don’t look chipped or nothing.”
  7230. >”Because it isn’t physical, it’s… ah! It’s the same pain as before, around the base. But worse. So much worse. Mother of Light, it’s so nnnnnnnnh!”
  7231. >The hooded mare rears, her blurry head flying back involuntarily, and the hood flies back with the motion
  7232. >There it stands, what you suspected you’d see; an obelisk, a bony protrusion jutting out from between the frayed strands of her dark-colored mane
  7233. >Another unicorn
  7234. >So that’s what you saw before!
  7235. >Another illusion, another trick by… well, look around you!
  7236. >They already took control of the city, and now they’ve found you again!
  7237. >Reinforcements, Canterians, two more of Trixie’s lackies
  7238. >As prior events come back to you, one after another, and as the whole thing comes steadily into focus, you grow more and more certain that the bad situation you were in before has only grown worse
  7239. >”You need to sit down, sugarcube. Just have… I’m sorry, I don’t have no more water than this. We’ll have to find something somewhere.”
  7240. >”Celestia, it feels like it’s going to explode.”
  7241. >”You’re just stressed.”
  7242. >”And you AREN’T? We nearly died! We have no more directions, nowhere to go, a-and now we’re carrying another, and we barely know why…”
  7243. >”Your idea.”
  7244. >”My idea. But your vision. And you felt the resonance, you said so yourself. I didn’t feel that at all. Just this pain…”
  7245. >Whatever pain she’s feeling, yours is so much worse
  7246. >Despite it all, however, you try to shift to one side, so that your bad leg faces upward
  7247. >If you could right yourself, roll onto your belly, all without putting too much weight on your broken foreleg, you might just be able to gain some altitude
  7248. >Your wings feel weird, but it may just be the way they’re folded against your back
  7249. >Just play dead like before, Rainbow… just wait…
  7250. >Pretend to close your eyes, but keep them open by a slit
  7251. >They haven’t realized you’re watching them yet, that much is certain
  7252. >If you could fly up and grab one when they get close, you could make them tell you what they know about the Element, and what they’ve done with it
  7253. >Has Time Turner really told the Canterians all about it?
  7254. >He couldn’t have… there’d be no need, unless Trixie FORCED him to explain how you were moving so fast
  7255. >Just…
  7256. >”Look. I agree with you. That yellow mare must have been important. And so was the jungle. And if I think real hard about it, then maybe I could remember more. Heck, maybe if we sleep on it, Numena’ll give us the answers herself.”
  7257. >Numena
  7258. >That was the name, that was…
  7259. >That was what you heard
  7260. >Numena!
  7261. >Did you only hear it because they were saying it outside of your dream?
  7262. >No, it was too real, it was blindingly real, and you have to do something, you can’t just sit here anymore
  7263. >Through your slotted eyes, you see one of the pony-shaped blurs moving away, while the other stays still
  7264. >Through muffled ears, you hear a sound like a rusty hinge creaking open, followed by a rubbery squeal
  7265. >The pony bends down and rises again, heaving another dark shape in front of her
  7266. >”Gotta say, this was one of your more brilliant ideas. Much as it’s a crying shame that the old dog went out that way, at least we get to keep this part of her.”
  7267. >”It was all I could think to do. It won’t be very comfortable for her, but in her condition, it was the best I could whip up. Given my… um… admittedly limited mechanical experience.”
  7268. >”You’re too modest, Miss Sunshine. Now, let’s see if we can’t lift her up again without puncturing something…”
  7269. >They’re maniacs!
  7270. >They’re unabashed Canterian maniacs, and whatever it is they’re planning to do to you, you aren’t going to take it lying down!
  7271. >You play dead as best as you can, still watching through slits, watching them as they huddle closer to you
  7272. >The larger one with the funny accent pushes the dark shape closer and closer, what you can only assume is some sort of horrible medieval torture device
  7273. >It sounds like it, anyhow; it groans and clangs with every turn of its ghastly gears, turning your blood to ice
  7274. >Yeah, just a little bit closer, freakos…
  7275. >Just within punching range, that’s it…
  7276. >Then you can ask them all the questions you need to
  7277. >”Alright, careful now… you get the hindlegs, I’ll take the head.”
  7278. >They’ll take nothing of the sort!
  7279. >The squeaky contraption grinds to a halt right in front of you, and the pony pushing it crosses to your side
  7280. >The other one, the unicorn, positions herself just opposite your hindlegs, then reaches out slowly, cautiously…
  7281. >Her associate is out of range, but her…
  7282. >If you could just give it one good lunge, right out of the wetness and into her center of mass
  7283. >If you could do that, use her as a kickstart, then you could easily disarm the other on the offswing
  7284. >You ruffle your wings, getting ready to get out of yet another bind
  7285. >She’s right there… she’s right within range… she’s reaching out for your legs, reaching…
  7286. >”Count of three. One, two, three…”
  7287. >Now!
  7288. “GRAAAAAAHHHH!”
  7289. >It happens in an instant
  7290. >You careen forth, hooves akimbo, hoping to knock the wind right out of her in one good swing
  7291. >Your wings spread out behind you, your feathers ruffling and sliding against one another, shaped out for one good push
  7292. >And when you do push off, that’s when the pain comes to you
  7293. >Pain worse than anything you’ve ever felt, even worse than Bulk Biceps shattering your foreleg against a steel girder
  7294. >Worse than a bolt of magical lightning shooting through your heart
  7295. >If you were a telephone wire, you’ve just met the business end of a pair of wire cutters
  7296. >Blinding white pain shoots through your wings like a dagger as you try and fail to make them propel, your wing joints locking in place
  7297. >You can almost hear bone grinding against bone as you sit up, perfectly still, eyes wide open, mouth screaming somewhere far away
  7298. >Then, you fall gracelessly back into the mud
  7299. “AHHHHHHHHHHH!!! AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
  7300. >It’s all you can do to relieve the horrible, horrible sensation
  7301. >Your target leaps back, clearly scared out of her wits by your attempt to incapacitate her
  7302. >Gorgons almighty, this hurts so bad, your wings hurt so bad!
  7303. >In your peripheral vision, you can vaguely make out the shape of the orange earth pony scrambling back around towards her partner
  7304. >She leaps between the two of you, staring you down with a smoldering intensity
  7305. >Now that you’ve been shocked into total awareness, you can make out her features better; long-faced, deep-set emerald eyes beneath a stern brow, a flat, rounded muzzle
  7306. >Her face, and really her whole body, is covered in dirt stains and bruises, and her legs are criss-crossed with shallow cuts, just begun to scab over
  7307. >She wears a tattered wide-brimmed hat lopsided across a matted bundle of straw-colored mane, and a braid that’s been indelicately unraveled by wear and tear
  7308. >She looks like she’s been through a battle of her own, or at least a very hard time
  7309. >”Well. Looks like she’s awake.”
  7310. >”Y-yes. That would be a f-fair assumption.”
  7311. >Your wings still outstretched, you continue hollering incoherently, uncontrollably
  7312. >If you could just put them back into place, back the way they already were, then maybe…
  7313. >”Alright. Hay! Listen! I’m talking to you, pegasus.”
  7314. “NNNNUUUHHHHHAAHHHHHH!!!”
  7315. >That was supposed to be “piss off”
  7316. >”HAY! QUIT HOLLERING!”
  7317. >Would if you could!
  7318. >But you’ve completely lost the element of surprise now, and that’s not the first Element you seem to have lost either
  7319. >Your foreleg is so crippled and twisted, and also apparently bound up in some kind of cloth gauze, you can’t even lift it to your face to check if the gleaming crystal is still fixed within the frog
  7320. >Although now that you have a better look at yourself, splayed out helplessly in this patch of sticky earth, you can’t help but notice that it isn’t your only wound anymore
  7321. >Whole patches of your luscious blue undercoat have been seared off, replaced with charred and pustulent flesh
  7322. >Third degree burns, all over your body, and you think you know where you might have gotten those from
  7323. >And, of course, your wings, though you wouldn’t want to see what they look like even if you could
  7324. “NNUUUUHHHHH!!! AHHHHHUUHHHH!!!”
  7325. >”Alright, if you ain’t gonna stop screaming, then I’m just gonna have to do it. But if you lunge at me like you did her, then two broken wings are gonna be the least of your concerns.”
  7326. >The orange mare reaches over your head and grips your wings between hoof and fetlock
  7327. >If you could stop whatever she’s about to do to you, you would, but as it stands you’re far too caught up in the awful pain surrounding you
  7328. >”Gonna… set it…”
  7329. >”AJ!”
  7330. >”It’s the only way! They were better off before, and now we ALL know better, don’t we? HUH?”
  7331. SNAP
  7332. >In one quick motion, she crushes your wings together, accordioning them back into position folded against each flank
  7333. >The pain sears brighter than before for a few seconds, and you let out a bloodcurdling noise you never would have dreamed you could produce
  7334. “GYYYYAHHHHHHUUUUUNNNNNUUUHHHH!!!”
  7335. >Then, the pain subsides
  7336. >Well, not entirely; it’s still there, but it’s a dull heat, embers rather than an inferno
  7337. >Your eyes water up, blurring everything behind a waterfall of tears; when you blink the wetness away, the orange mare has backed away, keeping a solid distance between herself, the unicorn, and you
  7338. “Uh-hunh… y-you…”
  7339. >”You need to stay down. And don’t try nothing like that again. You hear me?”
  7340. >You glare up at the haughty land-dweller, seething with barely contained rage
  7341. >She thinks she can talk to you like that?! She thinks she can just TOUCH you with her filthy earth-hooves?
  7342. >She… she…
  7343. >She just saved you a whole lot of agony, you’ll give her that
  7344. “I… hear you.”
  7345. >”Good to know. Now, we ain’t properly acquainted yet. But my Granny always said that the muck is no place to hold a conversation. Will you let us lift you up this time? Without trying to claw out my friend’s eyes?”
  7346. >What choice do you have?
  7347. “Yes.”
  7348. >You spit it out through gritted teeth, and the arrogant little pissant has the gall to smirk
  7349. >These Canterians… you’ll make them pay sooner or later, you’ll make them…
  7350. >”Twilight, you got the legs?”
  7351. >”Huh? O-oh. Yes.”
  7352. >The unicorn, who looked to be utterly lost in thought, resumes her task of picking you up rather reluctantly
  7353. >She’s even smaller than you thought she was, now that you get a good look at her; that great big flowing green robe of hers makes up most of her apparent mass
  7354. >Between rounded, constantly flitting ears, two glassy orbs stare back into yours with a look that is somewhere between fear and intense curiosity
  7355. >You find yourself wondering why she doesn’t simply lift you with her unicorn magic… isn’t that a thing they can do?
  7356. >”Alright, let’s try this again. One, two, three, lift!”
  7357. >A double force yanks you out of the Rainbow-shaped impression in the dirt, and your neck and back suffer greatly for it
  7358. “Dah! Filthy… are you trying to snap me in half?!”
  7359. >”She sure is feisty for somepony whose dang life we just saved, ain’t she, Twi?”
  7360. >”She’s in shock. She—unh!”
  7361. >The unicorn falters, nearly dropping your hindlegs before steadying herself
  7362. >They carry you around to the torture device, which you now realize is only a sort of ramshackle, homemade carriage
  7363. >Its two wheels are enormous and tire-bound, as though they came from a large truck
  7364. >Its bowl-shaped bed, covered in dents and irregularities, rests upon a steel axle running through the wheels’ centers
  7365. >Inside the bed is a big mound of muddy straw, into which the two land-dwellers roughly set you down
  7366. >It’s far from big enough to accommodate your whole prone body; your hindlegs spill out over the front of the bed, which you’ve surmised is probably a misshapen engine hood, and the back of your head grinds uncomfortably against a span of uncovered steel
  7367. >You also seem to be squished between two large sets of saddlebags, one of which is unnaturally warm against your leg, as if something’s living in there
  7368. >A long nylon cord, like something out of a tent rigging, is wrapped double through bolt-holes in the front of the carriage, and tied in a wide pleated formation that suggests a harness
  7369. >The earth pony dusts off her hooves, stretches, then turns to face you again
  7370. >Now, not only are you completely immobile, you feel like a foal in an oversized crib
  7371. >This is beyond humiliation… this is just cruel
  7372. >”Now… looks to me like we’ve got some catching up to do.”
  7373. “Why haven’t you just killed me already?”
  7374. >Surprisingly, the earth pony’s muzzle crinkles up into that same self-assured smirk
  7375. >She’s mocking you!
  7376. >If your wings weren’t shot, you would gouge her damn eyes out!
  7377. >”That’s an interesting sort of thing to say. What on earth makes you think we wanna kill you?”
  7378. >”AJ! M-maybe I should do the talking.”
  7379. >The unicorn scampers into your limited view, her horn shearing the distant clouds in two as she moves
  7380. >With her hood now down, you can see her mane; dark purple, like her eyes, flecked with trails of pink and blue
  7381. >It, too, is braided near the base of her skull, though hers seems to be a bit more kempt
  7382. >While her face has been mostly spared of the bruises and cuts suffered by her partner, you notice several dark bloodstains showing through from the inside of her robe
  7383. >A large yellow and orange sun is emblazoned on the robe’s flank; it matches no Canterian insignia you’re aware of
  7384. >Are these even combatants? They look your age, if not younger
  7385. >The unicorn clears her throat, then begins to speak meekly
  7386. >”I-I am Twilight Sparkle, Sister of Solemnity of the Faith of Mater Solis, Bearer of Truth of the Prophetess Celestia. I am here with my fellow Missionary, Applejack of Rich Valley. We have been drawn to this place by a shared vision, a vision which has now been fulfilled. We believe that you—”
  7387. “Stop. What?”
  7388. >The timid little unicorn stumbles over her words as you interrupt her clearly practiced speech
  7389. “No, no. You two are Trixie’s, aren’t you? I don’t want any more Gorgons-damned mind games, just give it to me straight. I get it, you’ve got me now, thought you’d toy around before you gave me back up to your sadistic little Chancellor. But either turn me in, or don’t. There’s no need to be cruel about it.”
  7390. >”I… I…”
  7391. “Hay, I spared your buddy, didn’t I? Soarin? I should at least get points for that. I had him dead to rights, and I didn’t pull the trigger. I let him live. So just… please!”
  7392. >The tears begin to well in your eyes again
  7393. >You hate showing weakness to these land-dwellers, but you honestly don’t have the strength left in you to hide it
  7394. “Pl-please just… just take me in, or kill me. Please just stop…”
  7395. >”Hold it, hold it, hold it. We ain’t gonna do neither of those things to you, sugarcube. We just need to talk to you about that thing in your hoof.”
  7396. >Thing…
  7397. >In your hoof?
  7398. >The Element… it’s still there?
  7399. >You reach out delicately with your good leg to scrape it along the end of the other, and sure enough, you feel the warm multifaceted surface of the crystal embedded there
  7400. >It’s there!
  7401. >You don’t have nearly enough energy to actually use it, but it’s there!
  7402. >But they…
  7403. “You won’t take it from me! You won’t!”
  7404. >Even as you say the words, questions come rolling into your mind one by one
  7405. >Why didn’t they just take it when you were passed out for… what, ten hours?
  7406. >Why haven’t they taken you back up to Pegasopolis? What are you doing on this hill?
  7407. >Now that you’ve had the opportunity to get a better look at your surroundings, you realize where exactly they’ve taken you
  7408. >You’re near a copse of aspens, some wayward patch of canopy a few miles from the southern treeline of the Whittlewood
  7409. >Far to the north, the Elysian river winds its way along the same treeline, eventually twisting between the Palomino Peaks and out of sight
  7410. >And to the south… to the south, Pegasopolis looms large, unchanged, unvanquished
  7411. >You see the city now, floating solemnly near the horizon; if you landed beneath it, they must have carried you a few miles out to this place, in this makeshift contraption
  7412. >Why?
  7413. >”We don’t want your Element, if that’s what you’re wondering. We just wanna know how you came by it.”
  7414. “How do you know what it’s called? Are you spec ops? Or… no. Are you with Time Turner? Did he send you? How is he? What’s he doing?”
  7415. >”Now, just hang on a darn—”
  7416. >”Time Turner?”
  7417. >The unicorn, “Twilight,” blinks rapidly, as though puzzling through information in the same way you are
  7418. >She’s got an interesting look about her, this Canterian; at times, it’s like she’s somewhere else entirely, and you almost forget her presence
  7419. >But when she speaks, the memory of her comes flashing back, renewed, and you feel ridiculous for ever thinking she wasn’t important
  7420. >In any event, she’s clearly nothing like Trixie, so for that you’re immensely grateful
  7421. >”Time Turner… an Exsilist?”
  7422. “So you do know him. You two are Exsilists? Where are your modifications?”
  7423. >”We ain’t Exsilists. Twi, you suppose that’s the…?”
  7424. >”We don’t know him, but we met him. Well, ‘met’ is a strong word. He projected an image of himself, in the midst of a great storm. He told us about you. He gave us a description matching yours, and said… said that you would take something from him. That it couldn’t be given, only taken.”
  7425. >The Element
  7426. >You know that they know, and they know…
  7427. >Wait a minute
  7428. “In a storm… a sandstorm? Is that where you saw this ‘projection?’”
  7429. >”It was. Though he insinuated that the storm was somehow his doing. Wh-what do you know of it?”
  7430. >Pieces click into place
  7431. >Gravity presses particularly strongly on your head
  7432. >A unicorn, and an earth pony, traveling by motor vehicle
  7433. >Well, formerly, at least; something had to be used to make this stupid wheelbarrow, something that doesn’t need these parts anymore
  7434. >That’d explain the scrapes and bruises, too
  7435. >It still doesn’t make sense, not by a longshot, but…
  7436. “You two… I know you! You’re the ones we were looking for! You’re the border-hoppers! You aren’t Canterian military at all!”
  7437. >At this, the earth pony scoffs, tossing her hat to the other side of her mane with a flick of her neck
  7438. >”Took you long enough.”
  7439. >Twilight shakes nervously beneath her robes
  7440. >You can’t tell if that’s fear or excitement, though it’s probably a bit of both; in any case, she pipes up
  7441. >”You kn-knew about us? Wait… he said somepony was looking for us with thermal scanners. It’s why we snuffed the fire, remember? Applejack?”
  7442. >”I don’t remember nothing but what he showed me. I was dead to the world, dreaming of eyes. You filled me in about the whole hokey projection business later on.”
  7443. >Eyes
  7444. >Eyes turning, burning, a wheel of concentric eyes eclipsing the sun, eyes like yours…
  7445. >”But it was you, wasn’t it? So… you’re PAS military of some kind, then?”
  7446. >It seems like a nonsensical question, until you remember that you were stripped of your uniform when you were unconscious the first time
  7447. >But this is unprecedented… they don’t even know who you are!
  7448. >They don’t know that you’re Bow Hothoof’s daughter
  7449. >You could use this…
  7450. “I see no reason why I should answer a question like that. Not for a filthy unterglaschen like yourself.”
  7451. >”Hay! You don’t speak to her like that!”
  7452. >”What does it mean, AJ?”
  7453. >”Nothing good, with that tone. Did you forget that one of your hooves and both your wings are broken, flygirl? You got no business being disrespectful, no offense.”
  7454. “None taken. But actually, a little taken, since we nearly lost two of our best fliers scouring the desert for you two.”
  7455. >”And whose fault is that?”
  7456. “Yours! For thinking you can set your undeserving, unshorn mudpony hooves on PAS territory! Whether you’re affiliated with the Canterian military or not, you’re still trespassers! Do you know what we do with trespassers, unterglaschen?”
  7457. >”Can’t be much, considering ‘we’ is just ‘you,’ and ‘you’ is stuck in an oversized gardening hoe.”
  7458. >The unicorn stifles a chuckle at that little remark
  7459. >You swear you’ll kill them both just as soon as you can fly again…
  7460. >Or walk, for that matter
  7461. >”Look, flygirl. We’ll cut right to the chase. We think you’re somepony special. We think some higher being—”
  7462. >”A Solenoid angel of the blessed Mother Sun.”
  7463. >”Right. An angel brought us together. Now, that may sound a tad queer to you, but frankly, I couldn’t give two licks if you believe us or not. Point is, you’ve got an Element on you. A very, VERY powerful magical artifact. Possibly the most powerful in existence. Your Exsilist friend, this… what was his name again?”
  7464. “Time Turner.”
  7465. >”Right. This Time Turner vouched for you, psychically. Never thought I’d have cause to say that. But we’ve come a long, looooong way to get to where we are now, and we’ve got ample reason to believe that it’s because of you.”
  7466. >”Our vision was of rainbow fire. What we witnessed above, in your city… it came true. What was foreseen in a Truth beyond truths.”
  7467. >Angels, psychic links, visions of the future…
  7468. >Well, you can relate to at least one of those
  7469. >Actually…
  7470. >Your dream… there was an angel in your dream
  7471. >A constellation, a… a…
  7472. >And your vision of the white sunset, of a blinding light behind rolling waves, the sand sifting between your hairs
  7473. >So really, make that three for three
  7474. >There’s more substance to this now than there might have been a month ago, but still!
  7475. >Part of you refuses to believe that you’re even having this conversation when so many more important things are happening right up there!
  7476. “Say I were to call the two of you completely insane.”
  7477. >”I’d say we’re just about used to it by now.”
  7478. “Then say… say I knew the name of your angel.”
  7479. >”You know of Nume—”
  7480. >”Shhhhh. You were saying?”
  7481. “Numena. But I only saw her just now. Or maybe it was before, as I was falling. As I was… how did I survive that fall?”
  7482. >You glance back over to the city, a black dot against a dewy morning sky
  7483. >”You weren’t a pretty sight when we found you in that crater you made. Heck, you still ain’t the prettiest of sights.”
  7484. “Your angel came to me in my dream. She… unless that was YOU! Unless you put that thought in my head!”
  7485. >You point accusingly towards Twilight, who recoils from the gesture
  7486. >She’s terrified of you, alright
  7487. >Good… she should be
  7488. “You unicorns and your… your invasive damned psychic shit! You put that in my head, didn’t you? The whole thing!”
  7489. >”Even if that were—”
  7490. >”Magic is a Blight!”
  7491. >”Here we go.”
  7492. >Applejack… AJ? The orange mare practically rolls her eyes into the back of her head, and it doesn’t take much intuition to figure out that she’s heard this spiel about a thousand times
  7493. >”The false magic of unicorns is a pale imitation of the true Light of Mater Solis! I am a sworn Sister of Solemnity, and as such I would never dream of allowing such blasphemous energy to use my horn as its terrible conduit!”
  7494. “Okay, okay!”
  7495. >And maybe you’re a bit terrified of her, too
  7496. >There again was that strange duality you noticed in the unicorn’s being when you first laid eyes on her
  7497. >There’s ferocity hidden under all that timidity
  7498. >Is it just zeal?
  7499. >Well, you’ve got plenty of that, too, and you won’t be out-zealed by the likes of this
  7500. “You sound a whole lot like an Exsilist.”
  7501. >”I… I am nothing like an Exsilist. My denial of the Blight is a mere expression of the singular nature of Mater Solis’ true magic. The magic bestowed upon the Prophetess, blessed be her name. Your Exsilist allies, on the other hoof… their reasoning is altogether less holy.”
  7502. “Holy or unholy, sounds like you come to the same end. So let me ask you this, then: if you aren’t going to kill me, and you don’t want my Element, then what are you planning on doing with me? Because if the answer’s nothing at all, then I have my own problems, and the two of you are priority number eleventy million on my list of things to handle.”
  7503. >The earth pony frowns, shaking her head as though you’ve given a wrong answer
  7504. >Just one good kick, that’s all you ask for…
  7505. >”Didn’t wanna have to play this chip, but if you ain’t noticed by now, you’re not exactly in a position to bargain. If you’ve got problems, we’d be delighted to help you out with them, best we can. But you go nowhere without us. ‘Less, of course, you’ve got a better way of getting your crippled-up self around.”
  7506. >She’s wrong… she has to be wrong!
  7507. >This is nothing, this is…
  7508. >This is a nightmare
  7509. >Never have you been so helpless
  7510. >You’ve broken bones before, but never in your wings; the pain when you unfurl them is so excruciating that you could drown a fish in your tears
  7511. >But the physical pain isn’t the worst of it, it’s the notion that… that…
  7512. “I can’t fly.”
  7513. >You say it out loud, feebly at first, then…
  7514. “I c-can’t fly!”
  7515. >The reality strikes you clear and pure, a final wave in a storm of things
  7516. >Just a few moments ago, you were dreaming up ways to give these two freaks the slip, make your way back up to the city, regroup with the Wunderbolts, hatch a plan to rein the city back under firm PAS control
  7517. >Then, you’d personally lead them to Unicronia to save your father, return triumphant, protect your liberty and ideals from Cultists and Canterians alike
  7518. >But all of that relies on these two twisted appendages, these things you’ve really always taken for granted
  7519. >In your current state, you couldn’t get yourself an inch off the ground, let alone a mile
  7520. >Pegasopolis, your home, is actually inaccessible to you, barring… what?
  7521. >Stealing a blimp off the ground?
  7522. >Hitching a ride in a chariot pulled by the non-existent PAS ground forces?
  7523. >Everypony’s holed up in the Militarbezirk, up there! And you have no way of contacting them!
  7524. >And even if you did, the situation is completely unprecedented
  7525. >For all you know, the Canterians could have called in reinforcements by now, or Trixie could be holding the whole place down by herself with reactivated no-ships
  7526. >It’s hopeless, utterly hopeless
  7527. >And the worst part of it is that no matter how many more reasons you conjure up to deem it hopeless, they all pale in comparison to this simple, undeniable truth:
  7528. >You can’t fly
  7529. >You’re a cripple, barely better than a land-dweller
  7530. >Your wings were your power, your niche, and now they’re just two uncomfortable lumps knotted up between you and this bed of straw
  7531. >Even when they’re healed, they’ll never be the same; you’ve seen what just one broken wing, improperly treated, can do to a pegasus’ balance, speed, and agility in the air
  7532. >But both? You wonder if you’ll ever fly again
  7533. >Can’t be…
  7534. “Can’t…”
  7535. >You’re breathing fast and shallow, and you can’t slow down
  7536. >Can’t ever…
  7537. >”Breathe as one. Breathe deeply, in an arc. Imagine the wave of your breath, as a wave of sunlight. Imagine it joining peak to peak in smooth, essential curves.”
  7538. >Can’t…
  7539. “I’ll never… huh… huh…”
  7540. >”A wave. You’ve seen the waves, haven’t you?”
  7541. >What kind of question is that?
  7542. >Stupid crazy unicorn, of course you’ve seen—
  7543. >Waves rippling across your whole body
  7544. >Dreamed waves, imagined waves, a layer of separation between yourself and the white sunset
  7545. >Then turning to waves of impermeable crimson, waves which ground to a halt the flow of entropy
  7546. >Suddenly, you realize what she’s asking you
  7547. >Have you seen the waves?
  7548. “Y-yes… all the time. All the t-time…”
  7549. >Your tears flow freely, in equal parts a reaction to the lingering pain and this overwhelming desire to live, to… to BE
  7550. >To be a perfect waveform, to be…
  7551. >Harmonic
  7552. >The tempo of your breath is no longer staccato and rough, it’s smooth, each inhalation beginning at the very moment of the end of the last exhalation
  7553. >You’ve never breathed like this consciously before, but it’s something you recognize immediately
  7554. >It’s the way a pegasus breathes when she’s flying
  7555. “H-how do you know about the waves? W-wait… this is all real, all of it? You’re really saying… saying that you’re…?”
  7556. >The unicorn smiles widely, her eyes closing as she does; what you’ve said has clearly satisfied her
  7557. >There’s that twinkle again, that strange sense of something much more powerful than it appears, locked inside her timid eyes
  7558. >Not a twinkle though, really more like a… a…
  7559. “Sparkle. Twilight Sparkle. That’s really your name?”
  7560. >”It was the name the Matron found me with, on the steps of my Convent. Somepony must have believed it was special.”
  7561. “And you… Applejack?”
  7562. >”Enchanté. And you are?”
  7563. >If they are who they say they are, then they probably wouldn’t know you by your name
  7564. >But no matter what kind of “Mission” they’re on, whether they think they can just trounce around in PAS territory however they please, they’re still Canterians
  7565. >And Canterians might not take too kindly to the daughter of one of their nation’s Most Wanted
  7566. >You’ll risk it, though… it’s not like things could get much worse
  7567. “Rainbow Dash. Private Rainbow Dash, Aerial Twelfth Stormwing, division Zeta.”
  7568. >”Mouthful. Will Rainbow Dash do for ya?”
  7569. “It’ll do. Now, you, ‘Twilight’…”
  7570. >”Y-yes?”
  7571. “How did you do that? Calm me down like that? Make my breathing normal again?”
  7572. >”It’s a very ancient technique the Sisters of Solemnity use to extinguish all distractions during blinded prayer. When we wish to perceive the Truth in its purest form, we consider all things as waves. The light of Mater’s solar waves. The waves of the wind. Waves of water, waves of the mind. All these things are equally immaterial in the face of the Truth. All these things are connected, too. Your breath is a wave. It’s constant and flowing all at once. It should never lose that constancy, that flow.”
  7573. >That sounds like a whole lot of hokum, but you’ll buy it for now
  7574. >Importantly, they don’t seem to have recognized your name, nor did they question your falsified rank
  7575. “Alright. But you knew more than that. You knew about my dreams. You knew what I’ve seen.”
  7576. >”We only know what WE’VE seen, sugarcube. That you’ve seen it too ain’t a coincidence, but it ain’t quite our doing, neither.”
  7577. “Then am I meant to believe that you’re some kind of… what? Recruiters? Because even if you don’t want my Element, it sounds like you want ME because I have it.”
  7578. >They only return your stare; looks like you’ve hit on something
  7579. “A-and whatever you want from me and my Element, you should know that it was taken rightfully. It’s mine, Time Turner said so.”
  7580. >”We already know that. But what was so special about Time Turner? Why did he have it in the first place?”
  7581. >You suppose you can tell them this part, there’s no real harm in it
  7582. “It was passed down to him by his dad. And his dad, and his dad, on and on. Since the days of the Makers. He’s the direct descendant of Kabardian, of the Unified Kings.”
  7583. >”Kabardian… Kabardian… where have I…”
  7584. >”It’s what they call their castle on the Mons, Twilight. It’s the Senatori’s place of business.”
  7585. >“And it used to be… ohhhhh, AJ! Do you know what this means?”
  7586. >”I’ve got a feeling I’m about to find out.”
  7587. >”I came across his name in my histories every now and again. The Unified Kings, remember what I told you about them? They were oppressive and cruel, all but Kabardian. When the Makers installed them to fill the void left by Celestia the Princess, the Makers didn’t watch over them for long. They left, into the West. And when the Prophetess returned to liberate her ponies, the Unified Kings followed the Makers. And one of them, Kabardian, he founded Exsilia. The original Exsilia. Long before the Cult came about to imitate them, or succeed them, o-or however you might describe it.”
  7588. >”There a point to all this I’m missing?”
  7589. >”Don’t you see? Kabardian had an Element! One of the six seeds of prophecy! He was gentle with his ponies, and Celestia rewarded him with territory away from Old Equestria when the battle for Canterlot ended. But what if that wasn’t all she rewarded him with? What if she thought him worthy of protectorship, over—”
  7590. “Wait, SIX? What are you saying? There are six of these?”
  7591. >You gesture meekly at the glowing artifact fixed to your hoof, which now begins to emit a kind of solitary hum, as if confirming your question itself
  7592. >But as you lower it back to your side, the hum does not subside; it only intensifies, only shakes you further to your core
  7593. >It’s a drill, this noise, a drill into the center of your consciousness, and you wonder if the others can—
  7594. >”Hear that? You were right, Twi. They’re resonating.”
  7595. >They?
  7596. >”Protectorship. That’s it, that’s what’s been happening all this time. One to See Rock—you said there were skeletons in there, right?—another to Kabardian, and eventually his descendants. The Prophetess needed to scatter them, but she didn’t do it randomly. She entrusted them to ponies, in specific locations…”
  7597. >”I mean it, they’re both making noise. Don’t you hear that?”
  7598. >”A-and it’s all leading into… must be some kind of pattern to it all, geographic or otherwise… no, can’t be geographic, at least one was mobile, unless it wasn’t intended to be so… but even without any further information, we could determine—”
  7599. >”Twilight! The noise!”
  7600. >”Huh? It’s just the wind, AJ.”
  7601. >”You don’t hear that? That hum?”
  7602. >Twilight Sparkle shakes her head, still clearly saddled with thoughts that have nothing to do with her surroundings
  7603. >She’s only partly there, you think; another part of her is somewhere else entirely
  7604. >That’s the impression you’ve gotten, though you can’t get a read on this other one, this Applejack
  7605. >She hears the humming too, and now she’s reaching out towards you
  7606. >Is she going to try to touch you again, to take your Element?
  7607. >What is she—
  7608. >”I can’t hear it, AJ. It’s something only you’re experiencing.”
  7609. >”Can’t just be me, it’s right there! Right in the… here, move over, gotta…”
  7610. >Applejack brushes against your prone form roughly, digging into the saddlebag pressed against your left flank
  7611. >The one radiating heat, and…
  7612. >Sound?
  7613. >Is the hum coming from there?
  7614. >No, it’s definitely your Element, definitely… or is it coming from both?
  7615. >Six seeds
  7616. >And the “other one”
  7617. >”Careful now… who knows what’d happen if… there. You wanted to know why we’re interested in that Element, huh? Why we came all this way? You’re special, sugarcube, but you ain’t that special.”
  7618. >Applejack abruptly removes her hoof from the bag, not having retrieved anything
  7619. >Then, she holds it motionless over the ruffled opening, and closes her eyes
  7620. “Exactly what—”
  7621. >Force
  7622. >Overwhelming force, a loss of heat against you, a sight which terrifies you
  7623. >An orange… thing, as bright as any star, leaps out of the bag of its own accord, straight up, defying gravity to land in Applejack’s scar-laden hoof
  7624. >Didn’t realize it was scarred until just now, now that the thing is pressed against it
  7625. >A glowing artifact, glossy and crystalline, its multitude of facades scattering the light arcing out of its bright core
  7626. >And then… resonance
  7627. >In your bones, in your whole body, a kind of… you can’t describe it at all, but if you could it would be as a total one-ness with a body that isn’t yours
  7628. >Waves, some dominating and others regressive, all flowing in the same direction
  7629. >Cells are aligning with cells, but the cells are there, before your eyes, in your brain, you can see them but they’re part of a higher figure, not a pony but something like it, something pure-white and serene and…
  7630. >You look at Applejack, and you know that she’s experiencing the same
  7631. >What’s more, you feel no hate for her in this moment, no revulsion at her audacity, her roughness; it’s all a sea, of course, all a flowing sea, and she is a wave and you are a wave and it’s all—
  7632. PLUNK
  7633. >She releases her Element, and you watch it speed up as it’s carried by the mass-force back into the bag
  7634. >You felt it living before, felt its warmth, but now you feel something else
  7635. >It’s actually MOVING; not in an animal sense, but more like a back-and-forth, a constant momentum sustained by its own energy
  7636. >Resonance
  7637. “You have… you already have one. Already, already, did you see all that, all of what I just—”
  7638. >”Shuh. I… I need a moment.”
  7639. >”AJ? AJ, what happened?”
  7640. >Applejack leaves your view as she collapses in front of your makeshift carriage
  7641. >You begin to remember all the things which made her unsavory to you before
  7642. >She’s a land-dweller, an ugly land-dweller, she’s uppity, her niche is nowhere near yours, she’s a Canterian, she thinks she can just pick you up and CARRY you along
  7643. >It’s all desynchronized again
  7644. >”AJ, talk to me! Ohhhh, what’s going on?”
  7645. >”…fine. I’m fine.”
  7646. >”Was it like before? In the truck?”
  7647. >”No. Nothing like that. Well, maybe a little. I didn’t blank out this time, I just sorta lost feeling in my legs. Except for one. One hurt really bad. And something else hurt, my back, but it wasn’t really my back, it was something… sweet Celestia.”
  7648. >The burly earth pony regains her balance, then directs her crazed look back at you
  7649. >”That was… your pain, wasn’t it?”
  7650. “I think so.”
  7651. >”And what you saw was…”
  7652. “Your cells. Something like a life force. I don’t know. These aren’t my words. I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. This is so beyond anything I…”
  7653. >”That’s what I see. When I use the Element, that is. I see Truth. That’s what Miss Sunshine here says, anyway. I see ponies through solid objects, is what it really comes down to. Is yours…?”
  7654. “Mine’s different. Mine’s completely different. Not that it matters now, I can’t move, but if I could, then maybe I could show you.”
  7655. >Show them?
  7656. >Show them your power?
  7657. >What are you saying, what could POSSIBLY compel you to share the secret of the Element’s power with these two?!
  7658. >Stop talking, Rainbow Dash, focus on the task at hoof, focus on your father!
  7659. >Your father…
  7660. >And you can’t even fly
  7661. >”You saw what I saw for a second. I never thought I’d be able to talk to anypony about that, or describe it in a way that made sense. Life force. Truth behind Truth. It’s like a… a superpower. But only when I’m holding the Element. Or when the Element is holding me, I guess.”
  7662. >The words tumble out of Applejack’s mouth, and you find yourself entrenched in your own revelations
  7663. “You made that beacon, didn’t you? No… you made it both times.”
  7664. >You’re not quite sure how you know, or why it’s important, but you know that it is
  7665. >That grainy image in that black and white drone photograph, and then later, duplicated before your eyes in brilliant white-yellow light on the horizon
  7666. >A second sun
  7667. “First in the Badlands, and then just over there… you were trying to warn us, weren’t you?”
  7668. >”Looks like we were too late.”
  7669. “But you w-weren’t. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be in that hole. I’d probably be dead right now, or worse. You have no idea what happened up there. No idea what I had to go through just to… or maybe you do.”
  7670. >”Just tell us where to go!”
  7671. >…
  7672. >You flinch from the sudden outburst of Twilight Sparkle, which squeezes a bit more pain out of your wounds
  7673. >Your splint is coming loose
  7674. >And you’re awake now, more awake than ever
  7675. “Ow. Jeez. Sorry?”
  7676. >”Just… no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, AJ. I’m sorry, um, Rainbow Dash. It’s just that… well, the truth of it is…”
  7677. “Spit it out.”
  7678. >”We are at the end of our rope here. Numena has granted us nothing in the way of solid leads since our encounter with the ghost-form of Time Turner. We had been hoping to prevent whatever catastrophe might befall Pegasopolis, but perhaps we were misguided.”
  7679. “I’ll say.”
  7680. >”My point is that we don’t know where to go, or what to do. I am sorry to burden you with this, especially considering the fact that all this must be so new to you, but… well, I was compelled to bring my Mission to Rich Valley, where I encountered Applejack. And when that happened, when she ruminated on the nature of this Mission, Applejack felt compelled to come here. She witnessed the rainbow fire crowning the city, just as it came to pass. Have you had… have you seen anything like this? In dreams? Things which have not yet come to pass?”
  7681. >A unicorn weeping, coated in blood
  7682. >A monster
  7683. >An angel made of constellations
  7684. >But none of these will get your father back
  7685. >You avert your eyes from Twilight’s hopeful gaze, not wanting to see the resolve in them turn to disappointment
  7686. >You’re immensely surprised to find that you care what she thinks of you
  7687. >Well, your best friend just betrayed you and your country, so why shouldn’t you feel a bit needy?
  7688. >No, no, that isn’t it… you’re tied to these ponies, whether you like it or not
  7689. >You aren’t returning to Pegasopolis, no matter who owns it
  7690. >”Oh, Celestia. Look.”
  7691. >Applejack speaks softly, fearfully, pointing in the direction of the mountains to the north
  7692. >You creak your neck to follow her point, towards…
  7693. >Well, that answers that question
  7694. >A score of blimps, elongated egg-shapes among the clouds, are currently cresting the Palomino Peaks, all clustered together
  7695. >Even from here, you make out the dreaded insignia jutting from their prows like mastheads: an eight-pointed gear, a jawless skull with three goggle-like eye sockets, black and unseeing
  7696. >Long tubes dangle from the underbellies of the blimps like tentacles, leading the meshy-black cabins, which themselves are decked out in vicious fins and all manner of gunnery
  7697. >What they really look like, you realize, is great big floating brains, brutally detached from their spinal columns, the nerve endings flaying away as they move
  7698. >You’ve seen a similar design once before, but that was a diplomatic vessel; these are very clearly intended for war
  7699. >For conquest
  7700. “The Cult. Now there really is nothing I can do.”
  7701. >Both land-dwellers are as transfixed by the sight of the brain-swarm as you are, and that transfixion is only amplified when you catch sight of the drones
  7702. >Hundreds of them, perhaps even thousands, a thick cloud of points darkening the sky behind them as they zig-zag the trajectory of their motherships
  7703. >Whatever hoofhold the PAS might have regained, they won’t be able to match that
  7704. >Hell, they’ll probably even welcome them in, thinking it’s their salvation
  7705. >They don’t know the lengths Time Turner’s gone to ensure that you…
  7706. >That you get here
  7707. >That’s what it’s all been for, right? He collaborated with these two, he designed this whole path for you, and now he’s going to make returning to the city a non-option for you
  7708. >Damn you… DAMN YOU!
  7709. >”The C-Cult? The Exsilists? B-but those are your allies, aren’t they?”
  7710. “Not anymore. There were new arrangements, last I heard. If they’re coming now, it isn’t to peel off the Canterians. It’s to join in the plunder.”
  7711. >”That’s terrible…”
  7712. “It’s the way of things.”
  7713. >It’s the Wunderbolts dead, is what it is
  7714. >If only you could call them, tell them to get out of the city now, that there’s no point in hanging around anymore
  7715. >Trixie the unicorn owns the skies now, Trixie and her lapdogs, Trixie and that self-assured little shit of a Chancellor Neighsay!
  7716. >But all you can do is watch the Exsilist fleet bear down upon the city, like maggots flocking to a corpse
  7717. “W-we have to move. We have to get to that treeline. They’ll see us here, we have to move now.”
  7718. >”Wh-wha I don’t—”
  7719. “MOVE ME! We need to go! Please!”
  7720. >It’s true that if the Exsilists catch you, you’ll likely have an express trip directly to Unicronia, directly to your father
  7721. >But then you’d just be in the same boat as him; locked up, helpless, and in your case, crippled
  7722. >It wouldn’t solve your problem in the way you need it to be solved
  7723. >There is one way, but you didn’t want to consider it until now
  7724. >Gorgons, would they even buy it?
  7725. >Of course they will; they’re so eager to hear about your dreams, so ready to find a new heading
  7726. >It’s taken this long to process it, but the fact is that you’re still in control of this situation
  7727. >Just say it… it’s the only way
  7728. >Only way to save him…
  7729. “Unicronia.”
  7730. >”Wuh?”
  7731. >Both ponies whip their heads around in unison, and a wind chill turns your skin to ice
  7732. >Early morning in the death throes of spring, how can it still be so cold?
  7733. “My dreams. All of them had… they had a battle in them. A big battle. Ponies against machine ponies. Canterians and Exsilists. And then Numena showed me it again, just before. I thought it was just a dream, but now… it all felt so real at the time.”
  7734. >It’s never been so difficult to lie
  7735. >But as the ships in the sky bear down on you, your shame melts quickly into resolve
  7736. >It’s those eyes of hers, the unicorn… they’re so strange, so disarming
  7737. >So heavy
  7738. “I think it’s… it’s where we have to go. Unicronia. To the north.”
  7739. >A stern expression works its way across Applejack’s stubborn face
  7740. >She regards Twilight, who appears to be cautiously nodding her head along with your words
  7741. >”You think she’s telling the truth?”
  7742. >”What? Why wouldn’t she be?”
  7743. >”Because… never mind. I s’pose if she were trying to dupe us, she’d ask us to take her back up there. Unicronia’s… shoot, it’s besieged by Exsilists. And it’s gotta be something like four hundred miles from here.”
  7744. “Beyond the Whittlewood. Through a mountain pass. Across the Westerly train line bridge, it’s the only place you can ford the Elysian river up north, you have to do it twice.”
  7745. >”You’ve been before?”
  7746. “No. I’ve only flown half the distance before, just past the border of PAS land. But I’ve committed the route to memory. Granted, it’s going to be less trivial to navigate from the ground than from the air, but…”
  7747. >”You can get us there?”
  7748. >You hesitate, but you nod
  7749. “I can do it.”
  7750. >You can give them what they want: a quest
  7751. >And they can give you what you want: a chance to save your father
  7752. >It’s a win-win, right?
  7753. >They need never know who you really are, and you can make off with your Element once your hoof and wings are healed
  7754. >They may never work the same way again, but you know that in some form or other, you’ll fly
  7755. >And when you can fly, you can fight
  7756. >Besides, what choice do you have?
  7757. >Your whole world is burning
  7758. >”Hm. It’s a ways. And we don’t got Winona no more.”
  7759. “Winona?”
  7760. >”My truck. Got struck by a lightning bolt.”
  7761. >You have a feeling you know who’s responsible for that
  7762. >”This carriage, Twilight… how long do you think it’ll last?”
  7763. >”As long as we need it, hopefully. But we can’t… AJ, I can’t walk four hundred miles. I can barely walk four. We weren’t exactly afforded much long-distance endurance training in my convent.”
  7764. >”Then we need to find a different mode of transportation, and fast.”
  7765. “I think I know how to get some. But we have to move now. North, towards the Whittlewood. Are you going to pull me?”
  7766. >”Not if you keep up that tone, flygirl.”
  7767. “I wasn’t taking a—!”
  7768. >You stop yourself
  7769. >This earth pony has an aura about her that sets your teeth on edge, but you’ll say no more
  7770. >They’re your only shot at this, and you can’t risk antagonizing them for any reason
  7771. “I just want the same things you want. And I can’t move. Sorry if it’s a burden, but if this is what you’ve decided to do, then I see no reason why I shouldn’t be clear on some things.”
  7772. >”Long as you ain’t looking to start any more trouble, or call us any more derogatory names, then I’m amiable. You, Twilight?”
  7773. >”I just want to get out of here, AJ. Rainbow Dash is right. If those Exsilists see us, who knows what’ll happen to us.”
  7774. >A few cold splashes on your muzzle indicate that an early morning rain is coming on
  7775. >The sky is darkening, shadows of nimbus draped across the indigoes of receding twilight, and the coming fleet is made all the more menacing for it
  7776. >Twilight Sparkle is poised as though ready to gallop away at any moment; she looks as though she’s never seen an airship in her life, much less dozens of them
  7777. >Applejack, on the other hoof, sets herself to work at the front of your carriage, slipping her legs through the openings in the nylon harness, tightening the knots, looping the rope over and under herself until she’s completely rigged in
  7778. >”We’ll see if this works as well as the first time.”
  7779. >With one rigid jerk, she hoists the front of the carriage up, launching you rather painfully back against the steel plate behind your neck
  7780. “Ow!”
  7781. >”Grn… sorry. This is going to take some getting used to.”
  7782. >The earth pony continues to grunt as she shifts her balance forward slowly, steadily, until she digs her hooves into the wet earth firmly enough to move
  7783. >She walks, and a few seconds later the ropes pull taut, and the carriage, with you in it, shambles along with her
  7784. >”Twilight… nudge it.”
  7785. >”I got it.”
  7786. >Clumsily, Twilight gets behind you and takes the axle in her front hooves, straining to give it some leverage out of the mud
  7787. >Eventually, the wheels begin to turn faster, spilling mud out of both sides, and Applejack picks up the pace
  7788. >It’s a rocky ride, and far from the most comfortable you’ve ever been, but you can’t exactly complain
  7789. >You got yourself into this mess, and it’s up to you to get yourself out
  7790. >”Easier now that we’re moving. Just can’t stop.”
  7791. >”’Can’t stop’ is right. We’re three for six, AJ. We’re halfway there.”
  7792. >Tumbling along, across earth and stone and water, so far from the zephyr winds above, you move towards him
  7793. >Towards your father, in Unicronia, the epicenter of the war of east and west
  7794. >There is an Element, an artifact of power, lodged deep into your hoof, and another, its twin, settled within canvas folds against your flank
  7795. >There are four others out there somewhere, if two parading loons are to be believed, and another kind of war, a war within a war, occurring that you could never have known before
  7796. >The very foundations of your world are shaken; the city in the sky, your home, your niche, is about to be scavenged by the very ponies you once called your trusted allies
  7797. >Your best friend, the only pony who has ever understood your aims, has betrayed you
  7798. >Your father, the strongest pegasus you know, is in chains far away from his city
  7799. >Your body is broken, your spirit is tarnished, and now you’ve been forced into some lunatic mission just to save yourself from enslavement
  7800. >Your loyalties have never been more confused, more uncertain
  7801. >Why, then, as you roll into the north, into peril untold, have you never felt more certain in your life?
  7802.  
  7803. ******
  7804.  
  7805. ECHO LOG: ACCOUNTABILITY REPORT, TRANSCRIPT PENDING CLASSIFICATION
  7806. CAPTAIN-MAJOR SPITFIRE, SEVENTH AERIAL, TEMP. “THUNDER 9”
  7807. 07 JUNO
  7808. 04:23:46
  7809. 13 DAYS BEFORE THE SUMMER SOLSTICE
  7810.  
  7811. “…going to try again. See if the riser peaks this time.”
  7812. >”Patience, Captain.”
  7813. “Ambassador Time Turner, all due respect, but I’d really prefer it if you weren’t in the room for this. I’ll be sharing classified mission information with—”
  7814. >”With your superior. I understand. I only supposed that after allowing you the courtesy of witnessing my own report to my Empress, your Chancellor would not mind…”
  7815. “Just because you made a… never mind. Look, we don’t owe you diplomacy. Obviously, I can’t thank you enough for treating our wounded, especially given what happened… but what you’re doing now is unauthorized. And you’re creating more problems than you’re solving, in my book.”
  7816. >”The Cult is merely assisting our trusted ally, the Pegasus Armistice State, in their time of crisis.”
  7817. “That isn’t how the Chancellor will see it.”
  7818. >”Then talk him down, Captain Spitfire.”
  7819. “It isn’t how I see it, either. Your Empress is doing what she planned to do from the beginning with those pegasi. She’s assimilating them.”
  7820. >”Then diplomacy in good faith should hold that much more of a priority for us. Reassure your Chancellor of the promises made today. Inform him that diplomacy through me is always an option.”
  7821. “Gotta reconfigure… damn it, why can’t I get a signal out of this thing?”
  7822. >”You’re attempting to reach him through a secure line?”
  7823. “Secure on his end. But it’s satlink.”
  7824. >”Then the fact that you’re broadcasting from inside an Exsilist vessel may have something to do with it. We have our own satellites, you know. Our own communications arrays.”
  7825. “You have repurposed Maker satellites. Ours are our own.”
  7826. >”A soft distinction. They all come from the same Handbook. Out of curiosity, why don’t you simply try going through an unencrypted channel? If need be, I’ll temporarily open this ship’s comms to the nearest Canterian Army post.”
  7827. “Nnnh. I already told you, we aren’t really supposed to be out here. Not in the eyes of the Senatori.”
  7828. >”War criminals do tend to get the short end of the stick.”
  7829. “That’s not… that’s not what’s happening. It was an executive order. And once the Chancellor’s Act goes through, he said… he said we’d be fine. No court martial. Bonuses all around.”
  7830. >”No incentive too great.”
  7831. “We did what we had to do for our country! We’re still at WAR with your Cult, Ambassador, in case you’ve forgotten.”
  7832. >”And yet your Chancellor found it prudent to start another war.”
  7833. “There was a problem. We solved it.”
  7834. >”By overtly causing what can only be described as a small cataclysm. One that left countless pegasus civilians injured and blinded, and two of your own killed in action. And now you and your strike team are prisoners of the Cult of Exsilium.”
  7835. “What can I say? You just strike me as the kind of stallion who honors his agreements. But’s it’s a little difficult to judge a pony’s character when you’re being ‘escorted’ away in their blimp. Especially when you don’t have much of a say in the matter.”
  7836. >”This is a diplomatic vessel, Captain. Not a warship. You may be prisoners, but you’re free to leave the proverbial cells at any time.”
  7837. “And you?”
  7838. >”I?”
  7839. “Hmph. I’m not blind. While we’re on the topic of judging character, you don’t seem to be fazed by much. Not being held at knifepoint by a deranged pegasus with super speed. Not getting half-fried by an electromagnetic pulse. But the sight of your ‘beloved’ Empress made you tense up like a kirin in headlights. Your cell is closed, isn’t it?”
  7840. >”I’m loyal to my people.”
  7841. “Your people are addicted to a species that doesn’t exist anymore. And from the way you talk, you aren’t all too enthused by the rhetoric.”
  7842. >”You’re a political analyst as well as a soldier.”
  7843. “I know how to read ponies. And I know that hating my enemy is pointless when one of us is gonna kill the other in the end.”
  7844. >”A bit simplified, but reasonable. You’re forgetting the possibility of actually ending this war with terms.”
  7845. “Hah. The only way that happens is drough… uh, drough… damn it. THROUGH…”
  7846. >”Your muzzle is bleeding again.”
  7847. “I gan see dat, thang you. Snffff… ugh.”
  7848. >”Our surgeons can help with that, you know.”
  7849. “Your surgeons’ll try to give me plasticine nostrils. No thank you.”
  7850. >”You must think we’re monsters.”
  7851. “Not hating your enemies doesn’t mean you have to sympathize with their worldview. What exactly does your Empress plan to do if she takes Canterium?”
  7852. >”Manage it. As your Chancellor and Senatori do now.”
  7853. “But WHY? Why the tubes all over your bodies? Why the pistons in your legs, the iron lungs? Why subject yourselves to that? It won’t make you live longer. It won’t bring you closer to the Makers.”
  7854. >”Curiosity. Ripping away the thin veneer, exposing the Living Machine. Some of us never had a choice. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Captain Spitfire.”
  7855. “Closed cell.”
  7856. >”Hmm. You’re remarkably like her, you know.”
  7857. “Who? The daughter? Rainbow Dash? She had guts, I’ll give her that.”
  7858. >”Has. We still haven’t located a body.”
  7859. “Same thing that happened to High Spirits happened to her. Worse, since she was closer to the storm. Both Soarin and Fire Streak attest to that.”
  7860. >”We’ll see.”
  7861. “Unless she, I dunno, survived a thirteen hundred meter fall, picked herself up, dusted herself off, and moseyed into those woods out there, don’t you think your scouts would have—”
  7862. >”We. Will. See.”
  7863. “You want her to be alive, don’t you? You care about her.”
  7864. >”She’d be far more useful to both our nations alive than dead.”
  7865. “Then I have to know. When she had you, I mean, when she took you hostage. You did something then. I didn’t see it, I couldn’t have seen it, but I know something happened. She was going to kill you, and you still hope she’s alive. So I know something happened. Because a few moments after she released you, she became… whatever THAT was.”
  7866. >”Something beyond reason.”
  7867. “She moved fast. But there’s still a hell of a lot you’re not telling—”
  7868. >”Captain. The satlink.”
  7869. “Ah… ah! This conversation isn’t over. Just… ugh, just, go. It’s a matter of national security. I don’t want—”
  7870. >”Say no more, Captain. I’ll give you your privacy. Just, humor me for one last question.”
  7871. “If it means getting rid of you faster.”
  7872. >”You say you don’t have authorization from the Senatori to conduct this operation against the PAS. To my knowledge, Ordo Intelligentia exists in Canterium for that precise purpose: extrajudicial enactment of the will of your state.”
  7873. “And?”
  7874. >”You’re Aerial Brigade. Not OI. Or did I misunderstand?”
  7875. “You’re playing with fire, Ambassador.”
  7876. >”Seems to me that your Chancellor is experiencing mild internal trust issues. Do let me know how he reacts when you tell him you’ve brokered a deal with your nation’s greatest enemy on his behalf. Ta-ta.”
  7877. “HEY! Now wait a… Celestia… ugh. Let’s… see… more, more… an actual ping back, where the HELL has that been this whole… ahem. Hem. Ch-chancellor?”
  7878. >{You’re alive.}
  7879. “Chancellor, thank Celestia. W-we had to… I mean, there’s no easy way to say this. We’re on an Exsilist vessel. Tethered above Pegasopolis.”
  7880. >{Captive?}
  7881. “Well… no, technically. It’s… Chancellor, there’s too much to—”
  7882. >{Then WHY are you contacting me over a secure line?}
  7883. “Because it’s nothing they don’t know! Chancellor, please, I need to tell you—”
  7884. >{This conversation is over. Goodbye, Captain Spitfire.}
  7885. “HURRICANE IS IN UNICRONIA!!”
  7886. >…
  7887. >{Repeat.}
  7888. “Hurricane. Thunder One… Trixie, she… she’s incapacitated. She overcharged the Pericles device. But before she did, she… she transported Hurricane, the bodyguard, the entire dirigible. She used magic.”
  7889. >{That’s not possible.}
  7890. “It’s true. Lieutenant Soarin can attest to the disappearance. I can attest to what happened in that room. Trixie was straining to… Chancellor, I could barely see her. It was like she was fading. She couldn’t…”
  7891. >{Enough. She’s alive?}
  7892. “Barely. The Exsilists—”
  7893. >{And Rainbow Dash?}
  7894. “Um… that’s… more complicated.”
  7895. >{Captain Spitfire.}
  7896. “Ch-chancellor, sir?”
  7897. >{What. Happened?}
  7898. END LOG
  7899.  
  7900. ******
  7901. ONE HOUR LATER
  7902.  
  7903. >{That’s really all I can attest to. If Lieutenant Soarin were here, he could provide more details regarding what happened at Highstorm Port. But they’re treating his eye now. I’ve been assured it won’t be… ahem… mechanically modified in any way. But that’s what happened. If you can understand, Chancellor, the lengths that Thunder Nine took to complete our mission, if you can see it the way they saw it last night, then…}
  7904. “Why, yes. Of course I understand. It was the best that could be done, given the nature of the situation.”
  7905. >{Sir… Chancellor. With all due respect, our appraisal of the situation is—}
  7906. “Is that you performed admirably. The end you came to was… well, I won’t say ‘unavoidable.’ But regrettable, nonetheless.”
  7907. >{I know. And I’m prepared to take full responsibility for the deaths of Silverwing and High Spirits, as well as the loss of the Secondary Target.}
  7908. “Nonsense, Captain. You weren’t present for either casualty. Freak accidents, both. As for Rainbow Dash, well… a highly unpredictable series of events. It’s a blow, but not a fatal one. Now, regarding the loss of Lieutenant Silverwing in particular, you made quite an unusual claim.”
  7909. >{Soarin insisted that was what he saw. Some kind of razor-thin piano wire, almost invisible in the dark below the city.}
  7910. “Which could easily be attributed to some kind of macabre defense mechanism on the part of the PAS. But your Lieutenant Soarin claimed it WASN’T a defense mechanism, did he not?”
  7911. >{I wouldn’t take it as fact, but… Soarin seems to think it wasn’t hanging at all. That it was like a… a…}
  7912. “A support.”
  7913. >{Exactly. But sir, again, I wouldn’t take that as fact. I’m no scientist, but it seems to me like a material that could not only stay rigid for over a kilometer at that thickness, but also not snap under the weight of an entire city… even if there were thousands of strands like it, as Soarin said… it’s impossible, isn’t it, Chancellor? Science fiction.}
  7914. >…
  7915. >{Chancellor?}
  7916. “Tell the Exsilist ambassador I’m willing to consider his deal. I would like to speak with him over this channel tomorrow. Gather your team and proceed to the Unicronian frontier as he requests.”
  7917. >{But… sir. Pegasopolis? We just… let the Exsilists have it?}
  7918. “I’m sorry, Captain Spitfire, but we’re breaking up. This storm…”
  7919. >{Chan—}
  7920. CLICK
  7921. “Hnh.”
  7922. >Success?
  7923. >Failure?
  7924. >These are the conditions of one for whom loss is conceivable
  7925. >Success is measured as an inverse of failure; that is, the fewer items on a list you fail to achieve, the more pronounced your success must be
  7926. >What happens, therefore, when failure is a non-article?
  7927. >When every set of circumstances leads to the same magnificent result?
  7928. >Well, if success exists only as a counterpoint to failure, then that condition cannot in good faith be called success
  7929. >It must be something different, something more raw and innate
  7930. >It isn’t an invention of the mind, no, it’s always been, always will be
  7931. >This is ecstasy, euphoria, an unspeakable passion
  7932. >This is knowing, beyond all doubt, that there exists no situation in which you can have failed
  7933. >And in the midst of all these thoughts, the rain begins to fall
  7934. >In a matter of minutes, it’s a downpour; cold droplets beat violently against your mane, and the wind of altitudes threatens to blow you right off this old, old mountaintop
  7935. >You are Chancellor Neighsay, and if you aren’t careful, you’re going to lose your head
  7936. >Too many loose threads are bound to tighten their grip eventually, and the work of Operation Thunderstruck has barely even begun
  7937. >Nominally, of course, it’s complete; the balance of power in the West has shifted decisively, Hurricane has been extracted from his precious floating city, yadda yadda
  7938. >But where you foresaw one or two X-factors standing in the way of an ideal outcome, you hadn’t anticipated this operation posing more questions than it answered
  7939. >No time to think too hard about it yet, however
  7940. >Right now, you’re still… so…
  7941. >Lofty
  7942. >Somewhere else completely
  7943. >Despite the particulars of that outcome, the maneuvers you make now must remain scripted, pre-planned
  7944. >You almost wish you had made Spitfire wait until after this meeting to debrief; at least then, you wouldn’t even have to lie about what you know
  7945. >”Certainly. Yes, we’re expecting him. Copy. Out.”
  7946. >At once, you’re pulled back down to reality by the biting voice of your head of security
  7947. >Sweetie Drops’ normally swirled and coiffed mane is now dull and drenched by the rain
  7948. >Though her bright eyes are masked by shades, you can tell by her curled upper lip that she’d rather be just about anywhere else right now
  7949. >“Sir, uh… that was the Senator’s detail. He’ll be pulling up in his limo shortly.”
  7950. “I shouldn’t have to wait for that nincompoop.”
  7951. >”It was short notice for me too, sir. You can’t expect him to always be at your beck and call.”
  7952. “I can expect whatever I damn well please from my public servants. Especially him, ESPECIALLY after the little conversation we had the other day.”
  7953. >Drops cracks her neck and slinks back into the cover of the awning, apparently too wet for her taste
  7954. >”It’s five-thirty in the morning.”
  7955. “Haven’t had your coffee yet? Oh no, I forgot. You don’t touch the stuff, do you? Peppermints and gumdrops for breakfast.”
  7956. >”It’s what makes me so perky.”
  7957. >Ignoring Drops’ sardonic smirk, you narrow your eyes down the hazy, lamplit corridor of Imperial Avenue
  7958. >The neatly cobbled road, which stretches from Newcastle Kabardian all the way down to the Palace Mall of Upper Canteria, sees little auto traffic even during the day
  7959. >After all, only the wealthiest citizens of the Mons can afford to have their luxury vehicles shuttled up and down the mountainside every time they want to take a spin through the old-town
  7960. >Therefore, it should be easy to spot a sleek black limousine coming your way
  7961. >Nevertheless, every now and then, you get to watch somepony’s Farreiri shimmer past you, the amber lights glittering off their wet finishes, spraying mist from the puddles beneath
  7962. >A few pedestrians too; early risers, shopkeepers, socialites walking their designer dogs under expensive umbrellas, the like
  7963. >Nopony seems to recognize you lurking in the quiet seating area of this closed café, and if anypony got close enough to overhear the conversation you’re about to have, Sweetie Drops would be sure to notice
  7964. >Five-thirty… the golden hour, some times of year
  7965. >The time of year you’re rapidly approaching
  7966. “Ms. Drops?”
  7967. >”Chancellor?”
  7968. “You’re a sweets enthusiast. I’d like to pose a hypothetical for your consideration.”
  7969. >”I’m not very good at those, Chancellor.”
  7970. “Still. Imagine you had a friend you trust implicitly, who tends to tell you everything that goes on in her life. Imagine this friend is a confectioner, and makes you lots of candy, candy that keeps you happy enough never to question how or why she makes it for you.”
  7971. >”… alright.”
  7972. “Following?”
  7973. >”I suppose so.”
  7974. “Good. Now imagine that you hear through the grapevine that this friend has crafted a special new type of candy, a candy so sweet, so flavorful, that if you were to taste it, you believe you’d never need any other sort of candy again.”
  7975. >”Sounds like a deal.”
  7976. “But you’re confused. And a little hurt. Because not only has this friend, who you trust, not shared this candy with you, she hasn’t even told you about its existence. You needed to find out through a secondary source. I imagine you’d feel a bit stung by that development, wouldn’t you?”
  7977. >”Just a bit.”
  7978. “Now, Ms. Drops, imagine that the very next day, and I mean the VERY next day, you’re walking down the street, when you see a pony you intensely dislike. One might almost call this pony your enemy. Everypony, including your friend, knows that you despise this pony. As you pass your enemy on the street, you notice that she is chewing quite greedily on that very same candy. The candy your trusted friend invented, and refused to share with you. What might you conclude from such an encounter?”
  7979. >Sweetie Drops rubs her chin with her hoof, then adjusts her shades with a sideways grin
  7980. >”I think it may be time to find new friends.”
  7981. >You return her smirk, settling deeper into the folds of your cloak, your heart racing at your center
  7982. “Thank you. For a moment there, I nearly believed myself insane.”
  7983. SKRRRRRRSSSSHHH
  7984. >Right on cue, an oblong black shape glides into view a few blocks to the south
  7985. >You scarcely make out the monochrome Canterian Senatori seal on its side before it completes its turn, cruising slowly towards you
  7986. >One or two of the pedestrians across the street halt their promenades to admire the lustrous vehicle, prompting you to bitterly take a sip from your flask
  7987. >You really can’t expect much from this idiot, can you?
  7988. >Calm yourself, Shetland… you need him
  7989. >Well, NEED is a strong word… but he’ll make this next shot of life go down that much smoother
  7990. “You know, when you said ‘limo,’ I think I may not have registered exactly what you were saying.”
  7991. >”He’d make an excellent secret agent, sir.”
  7992. “Hmph. You would know.”
  7993. >With a creak that probably echoes all the way down to the lower city, the limousine halts against the curb in front of you, and it takes another full twenty seconds for the back door to begin to open
  7994. >When it does, the first thing out of it is a black umbrella, expanding clumsily out into the downpour
  7995. >You’d laugh at how ridiculous the sight is, but truth be told you’re beginning to wish you had one in this weather
  7996. >Silently, you pack away the near-empty flask into your felted saddlebag, and join your security head in the dry space beneath the awning
  7997. >The umbrella pulls away from the door; moments later, a figure emerges behind it, one that practically glows in the amber wash of the gas lamps above
  7998. >A golden boy in the golden hour
  7999. >Cautiously dancing around as if allergic to puddles, Senator Vladimir Blueblood crosses the distance between the curb and the awning, never letting his oh-so-lustrous mane out of the cover of his umbrella
  8000. >Despite his affected nobility, the creases in his jacket and the dark rings beneath his eyes betray the fact that he probably rolled out of bed only fifteen minutes prior
  8001. >Bereft of his posse of Imperialist kiss-ups, he manages to strike an even less intimidating figure than usual
  8002. >When his eyes finally meet yours, he recoils slightly, but quickly reassumes his composure, and keeps a fair distance away from where you and Sweetie Drops are standing
  8003. >”Chancellor. A-a privilege to be summoned to… eh… this eatery.”
  8004. “Your limousine. Remove it, please.”
  8005. >”Ah. Um, certainly.”
  8006. >Blueblood turns, gives his driver some kind of non-descript signal, and shivers nervously as the vehicle rolls away as conspicuously as it arrived
  8007. “Come, join us. Dryer under here, I find.”
  8008. >”Y-yes.”
  8009. >Blueblood furls up his umbrella, laying it along an open pouch by his shoulder, and steps hurriedly into the orange shadow cast by the canopy
  8010. >An unlikelier trio than this you’d scarcely find in all Equestron
  8011. >”Is… eh… I mean, shall your bodyguard be…”
  8012. >You smile, enjoying immensely the lasting fear you managed to instill in this whelp the last time you spoke
  8013. “Pink is regrettably, predisposed at this time. Ms. Drops and I are alone this fine morning.”
  8014. >”G-good. I mean, a shame.”
  8015. “You know, Senator, I was about to launch into a long sardonic tirade about how much attention you just drew to what was meant to be a covert meeting between the two of us with that ridiculous motor vehicle, but I stopped myself. Do you know why?”
  8016. >”I-I… I don’t know.”
  8017. “No. Of course not. Because I realized that it’s entirely possible that you didn’t KNOW this was meant to be a covert meeting. After all, there are plenty of other reasons why a Chancellor and a Senator of Canterium would be meeting before the crack of dawn in a shady public location, where the possibility of being discreetly monitored or recorded is very slim.”
  8018. >”I… apologize.”
  8019. >Well, look at that; for once, the shmuck looks legitimately remorseful
  8020. >You realize that he may, on some level, actually be embarrassed that he disappointed you
  8021. >The possibility is, of course, entirely overshadowed by the possibility that he just wants to kiss up and save face, but it is a nice thought
  8022. “Apology accepted, Senator. Now, I’d like to speak with you about Pegasopolis.”
  8023. >Cue the audible gulp from Blueblood’s perpetually tightened throat
  8024. >”Pegasopolis? Chancellor, as I’ve assured you, neither I nor my fellow Senators have colluded in any hurtful capacity with the Pegasus Armistice State. To even suggest such treasonous dealings would be—”
  8025. “Yes, yes. Spare me the histrionics. No, what I have to offer you is something new. Something for your ears only.”
  8026. >The Senator’s fear slips into confusion; he cocks his head, ears perked, as if he were scanning for precious information
  8027. >”Chancellor?”
  8028. >Try not to be so self-satisfied when you say it, Shetland
  8029. >Remember the way you practiced it in the mirror; no gloating, no cocksure vengeful attitude
  8030. >It’s of the utmost importance that he believes you have something resembling solidarity
  8031. “It pains me to say it, but your hunch was right. Can it be called a hunch if you’ve been collaborating with the enemy, skimming their motives? Nevertheless.”
  8032. >”Chancellor, I… I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”
  8033. “Don’t. Do that. Really, it’s a moot point now. And you know exactly what hunch I’m referring to. The single tidbit of interest from our little parlay in my office. You hinted that the relationship between the Cult and the PAS was beginning to strain.”
  8034. >”I… oh. Yes. Well, that was… that HAS been… true.”
  8035. >Blueblood shifts his weight from hoof to hoof, eyes darting around from point to point, chasing an invisible fly
  8036. >Funny enough, you really believe he’s telling the truth; how can one stallion look like such a relentless liar even while being partially honest?
  8037. “You may as well speak frankly, Blueblood. After all, your Pegasopolis is in shambles now.”
  8038. >”Wh—I beg your pardon? Ch-Chancellor?”
  8039. >Involuntarily, you lick your lips; a more observant opponent that this may have noticed that
  8040. >Careful about that…
  8041. >Meanwhile, the Senator’s practically melting under the weight of what you said, combined with Drops’ hard gaze
  8042. >Time to really test your acting chops
  8043. “I’ll be up-front with you too, painful as it is to recount a personal failure. You see, some time ago I devised to perform a sort of soft-scare operation against the PAS. Non-lethal; non-military, as a matter of fact. Purely information driven. Something that would, at length, serve to loosen their faith in the Cult of Exsilium, and vice versa.”
  8044. >”I… I see.”
  8045. “Nothing could ever compel me to bring harm to the citizens of Pegasopolis, most of whom used to be Canterian citizens, unjustly forced to relocate by General Hurricane’s unethical practices at the border. But I digress. My strategy involved sowing suggestions of an invasion plan in the minds of PAS High Command, which would hopefully in time lead to one of two possibilities; either Hurricane would commit fully to Exsilist governance, in which case I could legally declare war on him; or, and this was my preferred option: Hurricane would opt out of the Trust, feeling that the Cult was inadequate in protecting their interests. Such an outcome would cut off the Cult’s stockpile of nuclear weapons just long enough for us to have a one-sided advantage and press for surrender.”
  8046. >”I… I don’t know what to say. Chancellor, it’s… but you must realize th-the risk in such a strategy! One wrong move, and Hurricane might authorize…”
  8047. “Attacking us, instead? Of course I’d considered that. But surely you’re aware that the PAS possesses no long-range missile technology. The Highmind Empress of the Cult has had the presence of mind about her to ensure that the dependence of that Trust goes both ways. One manufactures the bombs, the other has the capability to launch them. The Cult would have no precedent to fire on us from threats to an entity they themselves barely trust.”
  8048. >”Th-they’re unstable. They’re maniacal! You couldn’t p-possibly make a call like that on your own!”
  8049. >Well, would you look at that: a medical miracle
  8050. >This stallion has, beyond all biological probability, managed to grow a backbone
  8051. “If the Cult hasn’t nuked us yet, they’re unlikely to do so in the face of some mean words. Which, by the way, is precisely why I designed to lose my temper with you and your cohorts in my office. I suspected you would relay my hints at invasion to PAS High Command—seditiously, I might add—and begin the manipulation process.”
  8052. >”Chancellor! For Celestia’s sake, neither I, nor Senators Jet Set or Hoity Toity, have ANY sort of direct line to Hurr—”
  8053. “Well, not anymore, at least. And it’s fine, Senator, truly it is. You’ve actually done a great service to this nation, if unwittingly. Take a look.”
  8054. >You stretch out your right foreleg, and Sweetie Drops gingerly hands you a blank manila folder
  8055. >You pass it on to Blueblood, who turns his head away as he opens it, as though expecting it to contain an explosive device
  8056. >When it doesn’t explode, he stoops to read it, squinting as he pores over the finer details
  8057. >”A… a grand pardon? Addressed to Vladimir Blueblood from the Chancellor’s Office. A pardon… for… sedition with a non-adversarial threat to the Canterian Republic.”
  8058. “Non-adversarial meaning only that we have not formally declared war on them.”
  8059. >Blueblood’s muzzle scrunches up into a display of frustration
  8060. >”I know what it means! All due respect, Chancellor, but you have absolutely zero proof that any such sedition ever occurred!”
  8061. “Bold, aren’t we? Knowing that Pink isn’t here this time.”
  8062. >”You bullied me, last time. I’m a Senator of the Canterian Senatori, and I won’t be bullied again. Not—”
  8063. “Wouldn’t dream of it. As I said, I was merely acting last time, to provoke a response. You should have known that a Chancellor having three Senators murdered in his own office most likely wouldn’t go over well in the next press release.”
  8064. >”Why, you—”
  8065. “And I also wouldn’t dream of sullying your… ahem… STERLING reputation as a Senator without cause. That pardon is for you to keep. If any evidence of foul play were to surface in the coming months, why, simply submit it through the appropriate channels. It has my signature and seal and everything. You would likely be removed from office, but you won’t rot in prison.”
  8066. >”I… I…”
  8067. “Otherwise, nopony need ever know.”
  8068. >The white-coated Senator’s face suddenly becomes very colorful as he struggles to think of something to say, but after a few moments he resigns himself with a huff
  8069. >”Fine.”
  8070. “Fine indeed.”
  8071. >”You said that Pegasopolis was in shambles. Why?”
  8072. >Blueblood’s voice takes on a darker timbre; he doesn’t sound the part of his fabled ancestry any more than he looks it now
  8073. “Ah! You had me sidetracked. Well, it would appear that my strategy proved a bit too effective. Last night, I had a personal message to the PAS High Command broadcasted over Pegasopolis’ PA systems. My face appeared on the large video screens in their public square, and I rambled about all sorts of noncommittal nonsense. More a show of technological superiority than anything. ‘I broadcasted my propaganda over your propaganda’ tends to be a good demotivator.”
  8074. >”And you did this without Senatori authorization.”
  8075. “I don’t need authorization to run psyops. It’s all there in the Republican Constitution you never bothered to read.”
  8076. >”But it’s still the job of Ordo Intelligentia. And you didn’t—”
  8077. “Use them? Of course not. And our mutual distrust of Black Bar’s new regime out in the desert is the next article on our list. But for now, you should know that the Cult appears to have seen an opportunity in those broadcasts. Maybe they had something like this planned for a while, and jumped on it now to stir the pot of confusion.”
  8078. >”They… invaded?”
  8079. “Hurricane is in their custody. I’m overseeing the situation; I have negotiators ready in Unicronia, which is likely where they’re taking him. But sometime this afternoon, you’ll probably see the headlines: Cult controls Pegasopolis, possible Canterian involvement.”
  8080. >”But you weren’t involved.”
  8081. “Now, now. There are many things a Chancellor can legally do, but going under the Senatori’s muzzle to run joint operations with our greatest foe is not one of them. The Cult alone has military presence in Pegasopolis. My spies tell me that the Stormwings have nearly all surrendered. They’re hopelessly outnumbered, and with their leadership structure crippled, there isn’t much point in fighting anyways.”
  8082. >”It all seems very fast. And very convenient.”
  8083. “Modern warfare is fast. The siege in Unicronia has been a particularly grating exception. Convenient? Hardly. Several avenues for a political solution to the War in the West have just closed for good. We used to have a revolutionary for a rival in the form of Hurricane, somepony who might change his mind about his allegiances if pressured hard enough. Now, we have only the deliberate and unyielding war machine of the Cult to deal with.”
  8084. >For a moment, the noise of the downpour on the canopy above resolves into a soft patter
  8085. >Blueblood’s blurry shadow dances here and there across the cobblestones as he shakes his head in deliberation
  8086. >”Why are you telling me this? I’ve never been… why not tell another?”
  8087. “That depends. What did you expect to have in store for you when I summoned you to this place?”
  8088. >”…I had no earthly idea. After last time, I thought… maybe…”
  8089. “You think I’m a monster, don’t you?”
  8090. >Blueblood chews at his lip like a hamster
  8091. >It’s all the answer you need
  8092. >You sigh in monotone, taking a step back, peering in through the pitch-dark window of the café
  8093. >Inside, rows and rows of pastries, sandwiches, macarons, cakes, and elegant hors d’oeuvres rest within sparkling glass cases, each more opulent than the next
  8094. >They look delicious… but they aren’t
  8095. >They’re all just mockups, styrofoam and plaster and preservatives keeping them “fresh” and beautiful, night after night
  8096. >It disgusts you, this… this…
  8097. >This grand illusion
  8098. “In Crystallatia College, I learned the value of friendships. That is, to a certain point they are essential to survival. But beyond that point, they are worthless; less than worthless, actually. They drag you down below your capability. You may have grown up here, at the peak of the world, but some of us had to fight grit and bit for what we have. Of course, I have no tragic tale of betrayal, no rags to riches, no complex of vengeance against a system that wronged me. I became a Senator not because of any higher calling, but because I believed it would be entertaining. Entertaining to make ponies like you squirm. And now I’m the Chancellor. Did you vote for me in the chancellery election, Senator?”
  8099. >”No.”
  8100. “I didn’t think so. Old Rosetta seems more your speed. There was a decent politician. She should’ve won, too. Incumbents usually do. But instead you’re stuck with me, and while I admit I have my… er… issues of temperament, it’s only because the job tends to bring out the worst in a pony.”
  8101. >You remove yourself from the sight of those disgusting inedible facades, stare Blueblood directly in his wretched little eye
  8102. “Assassination attempts don’t do the spirit any favors, either. And knowing the assassin is in the custody of an agency over which you have frighteningly little control, and which is doing Celestia-knows-what to subvert the very government it claims to have allegiance to… you Imperialists have one thing right, Senator. The Empire never had problems like these.”
  8103. >Blueblood, speechless, shivers from the sudden temperature shift
  8104. >The rain is back in full force, and this time a jet of lightning rockets across the western sky, accenting the glitter of the sleeping avenue remarkably
  8105. >Always raining in times of… of…
  8106. “The Emperor’s authority was absolute. The Senatori was his council, the guard his will. The Emperor was Celestia reborn, Mater Solis incarnate. But now, we are born again in the glory of the New Maker’s Handbook. Now, we are atheists. Because all the marvels of magic and faith can be replicated by silicon and copper. Now, Senator, the system serves itself. Information is the only currency that matters. And our mutual adversary, Black Bar, is the God of Information.”
  8107. >”Then… then you understand… th-that’s why…”
  8108. “The Cult is not the greatest enemy of our republic. The Cult threatens our border. But OI threatens our very heart. If I had been able to trust them well enough to perform this necessary act of political manipulation, if I needn’t have resorted to doing it on my own, to resolving the PAS crisis with such an inferior tactic, then… perhaps the Cult would not have done what they had done. Truly, I blame myself.”
  8109. >”Chancellor… I… I understand. And you must know that my loyalty is always with you. With the Republic. If what you say is really true, if the PAS is… but it isn’t your fault! It wasn’t your hoof that struck them down, it was the Cult! A-and it hasn’t been you, leeching off of every stray tax dollar, forcing research out of the hands of the private citizen… SPYING on everypony with these Celestia-forsaken drones, taps, everything! It’s him! It’s the Intelligence Minister! A-and it’s what I meant to express to you before, before you…”
  8110. >Now, behold the path of least resistance
  8111. >Now, you must pretend to be a pony
  8112. >Heartbeat slowed to molasses, you close the gap between yourself and Senator Blueblood, and tenderly place one forehoof on his wither
  8113. >Your long cloak flutters behind you, the blowback of the torrent colliding with you, making your eyes water
  8114. >Yes… cry even, Shetland… let them be reddened, let it look real…
  8115. >Let it appear as though more emotions than fear and rage exist inside you now
  8116. “I know. And I do apologize, sincerely, for the way I behaved. Of late, I have been… paranoid. This process of excising a tumor must be complete. I had no way of knowing then who to trust, who would not be compromised by… him. Our Minister Black Bar. But now he has refused my recall to Mons Canteria three times. Now, I see in your eyes that you have no affiliation with him, that you must hate him as much as I, if not more. Together… we could cripple OI. Together, we could do what I alone am incapable of doing, even in the highest office of our nation.”
  8117. >”Y-yes… yes… I think that’s… I think…”
  8118. >At the core of every liar is emotion
  8119. >Deep-seated self-loathing, a heightened sense of superiority, a pathological need to change others, it doesn’t really matter
  8120. >What matters is that exposing the emotion momentarily doesn’t end the lies, nor does it guarantee that a truth will continue to be true
  8121. >You need a guarantee, or at least something that resembles a guarantee from the outside
  8122. >What you need is leverage
  8123. “That’s why I called you here today. The Liberation Act has nearly been pushed through the Senatori, nearly become law. It’s been your faction and a few others that have stubbornly resisted it. But you must recognize that it was never about the PAS or the Cult. The military spending, the increased definition of executive power, they were superfluous. It was always intended to attack this tumor on our growth. We want the same thing, Vladimir. Can you look at me, and tell me in good faith if you see a pony who wants anything less than absolute power?”
  8124. >”…no. I see… I see…”
  8125. “You’re rational. You’re an idealist. You’re an Imperialist. Because you and your colleagues see the potential of that system. You see the potential of an Emperor over a mere Chancellor of a Republic. One pony. One rule. It’s the old way, the right way. And if you help me with this…”
  8126. >Again, Drops silently hands you a folder, this one decently thicker and sealed with wax
  8127. >Blueblood takes it in hoof, shaking as he reads the summary print beneath your signature
  8128. >A deep flush smears across his cheeks, noticeable even in this reddish hue
  8129. >”M…M…Mini…Minister of the… of…”
  8130. “Minister of the Cabinet.”
  8131. >”Chancellor, that… that would make… m-make me…”
  8132. “Effectively my successor. If anything were to happen to me, you would become the Chancellor of the Republic.”
  8133. >”B-but you can’t… you can’t alter the chancellery Cabinet in-term. It’s already d-determined by—”
  8134. “If it’s judged a crisis of state, I can. But ONLY if the Liberation Act is passed.”
  8135. >At this, Blueblood gasps, then chuckles
  8136. >His eyes scan across the words printed on the folder again and again, as if making sure they’re still there
  8137. >”Celestia… Celestia, I never… Chancellor, this sort of kindness… this virtue… I should have known, should never have doubted your intentions…”
  8138. >Easy
  8139. >So very, very easy
  8140. >Of course, if he has even an ounce of brains, he won’t trust this as binding; he’ll “honor” this only so far as it benefits him
  8141. >But that’s what you’re counting on
  8142. >After all, you don’t need to be liked by your people; you just need them to do what you say
  8143. >And if the stick doesn’t work, sometimes you must resort to the carrot
  8144. “Now, Senator, if you’re satisfied that my intentions align with yours for the future of Canterium, then I must regrettably ask a favor from you in return.”
  8145. >”Anything, Chancellor. Whatever’s needed to strike back against this corruption, I’ll do my best!”
  8146. >Such pomposity, such animation
  8147. >You wonder if the strength of his will varies in direct proportion to the amount of ass is available for him to kiss
  8148. >Now that his work with Hurricane has gone to waste, where else for him to go but into your loving embrace?
  8149. “Come the next session of the Senatori, you and your faction will support the passage of the Liberation Act. But you’ll do it conditionally. Somepony, not you—make it Jet Set, he seems the persuasive type—is going to propose an amendment to the Act, the general contents of which are contained in that dossier. But I’ll give you the brief version: it grants a special wartime dispensation to the Canterian Army to act, and I quote, ‘in the interest of the general welfare against civilian sites deemed suspicious or harmful by a selective council of military tribunes.’”
  8150. >”Civilian sites? Y-you mean…?”
  8151. “If Black Bar does not come home soon, I’m going to start squeezing him where it hurts. Unannounced Army raids on his little pet projects. Cognitio Incognitus sites flooded with soldiers, subjected to very hostile inquiries.”
  8152. >”It’s brilliant. Truly brilliant. But Chancellor… military tribunes? You’re placing the authority in the hooves of Army ponies?”
  8153. “It can’t well be my call, or Black Bar will know that it’s my doing. I didn’t propose the amendment in the original draft of the Act for the same reason. For all that Black Bar knows, the Senators of the Imperialist faction and Chancellor Neighsay are still bitter rivals.”
  8154. >”Then the tribunes will be your puppets. Masterful. Chancellor, I couldn’t have done it in a thousand years, but you… you’ve exceeded all my expectations. If I had known… why, the whole of my faction would have voted for you in a heartbeat.”
  8155. “Then it’s fortunate that you didn’t know.”
  8156. >Yes, lickspittle, keep praising
  8157. >Keep lauding your new master, as if it’ll gain you a hint of gratitude
  8158. >If he hasn’t figured out that flattery doesn’t work on you yet, then he may be truly hopeless
  8159. >The newly minted Minister of the Cabinet stands tall, practically beaming
  8160. >As if on cue, the rain dies down again, and this time the dawning sky begins to lighten, as if to celebrate Blueblood’s crowning little political achievement
  8161. >Soon, however, the quizzical look you expected begins to form on his face
  8162. >”But… hm.”
  8163. “What is it, Senator?”
  8164. >”To make a change in power like that… you’d need a solid justification. It would reek of corruption otherwise.”
  8165. “Do you consider what we’re doing here corruption?”
  8166. >”Chancellor, I consider it an honor. But surely you must realize…”
  8167. “I realize. Distinguish yourself in some way at the next few sessions. Make a speech or two. Draft a public proclamation. If there’s one thing you have a talent for, Senator, it’s making yourself likable on the surface.”
  8168. >Blueblood’s eyes narrow; before he can figure out whether you’ve complimented or insulted him, you interrupt his thoughts
  8169. “Now, we should adjourn before the light comes. Call your car back around. Oh! There’s one last tidbit I nearly forgot.”
  8170. >Blueblood stumbles with the cell he retrieved from his flank pocket, nearly dropping it in a nearby puddle
  8171. >”Anything, Chancellor.”
  8172. “Five days from now, there’ll be talks between the Senatori and the Saddle Arabians about what to do with all the immigrants once the Sky Farm program is complete.”
  8173. >”Yes, I’d… heard. Shahanshah needs the filthy buggers back for his war once ours is over, I expect. Wastrels…”
  8174. “Like them or not, they’re essential for feeding our troops. Baron Rich tells me that at maximum arability, the Sky Farms produce up to twice the crop for half the sustainability cost. But while the working locals of Rich Valley are away in Unicronia, it’s the Saddle Arabians doing the construction work.”
  8175. >”Would you like me to join the delegation, Chancellor?”
  8176. “Not you, no. I need you close to home for what comes next. Ask one of your Imperialist friends to join, I’m sure Hoity Toity will oblige. But I want him to bring my secretary as a guest. Miss Moon Dancer.”
  8177. >”Your… secretary?”
  8178. “She’s a trusted ally. One of the only ones I have left, I’m afraid. One of the only ponies whom I’m absolutely certain hasn’t been corrupted by Black Bar’s agents. She’ll keep her ears open at the summit, and so long as she goes unmolested, there won’t be any trouble. And…”
  8179. >Once again, a folder passes from Drops to you to Blueblood
  8180. >This time, he merely skims the contents, apparently more interested in the diffracted light of the sunrise, obscured by clouds and mountaintop
  8181. “I promise that’s the last time I’ll do that. It’s falsified ID for Miss Dancer. She’ll be going under an alias.”
  8182. >”She’ll… be recognized. Plenty of Senators know the face of the mare who works your front desk.”
  8183. “I don’t care if the Senators recognize her. Her name will be printed on a travel log, like everypony who takes part in any Senatori delegation. If Black Bar gets his slimy hooves on said log, learns I have eyes accompanying a member of your faction… well, suffice it to say that you and yours will be watched much, much more closely.”
  8184. >”But… OI will certainly accompany the delegation. Agents who… it just seems to me a needlessly risky move, Chancellor.”
  8185. “You’ll allow ME to worry about the finer details, Senator. Ah, and right on schedule. Your driver’s a professional.”
  8186. >Blueblood’s limousine drifts into view across the soaked seating area, its dark finish gleaming in the violets of first light
  8187. >The rain has truly ended, and the clouds are breaking up
  8188. >Spring showers, summer flowers
  8189. >”Yes. I… again, I cannot express to you how much it—”
  8190. “No need, Senator. No need. Your car is waiting. We’ll speak again after the session on Monday.”
  8191. >Flashing you a coy smile, Blueblood nods dutifully; nay, you might even be able to call that a BOW
  8192. >The clear smugness in his eyes betrays the fact that he now believes himself privy to a monumental secret
  8193. >As he turns to go, you remember something that you really did forget to mention before, no tricks
  8194. “Ah, Senator!”
  8195. >He turns
  8196. >You grin
  8197. “I feel that I probably shouldn’t have to say this, but I’ll say it anyway. When I was given my bodyguard Pink as a gift from the High Magister of Unicronia, he told me something I won’t soon forget.”
  8198. >”Oh? Y-yes?”
  8199. “Yes. You see, whatever process those strange equine architects of the Laughing Guild use to craft their Mouthless Jesters imbues them with a certain… shall we say, sixth sense. Magical in nature, perhaps. Perhaps something beyond magic.”
  8200. >You can almost hear Blueblood’s throat tighten, even from this far away
  8201. “My Pink is away for now on a mission of her own. But if I am to come to an untimely end, for any reason, after your inauguration as Minister is approved, then she will know of it. It’s in her biology, you see. Yes, no matter where she is, what she’s doing… she will know everypony who was responsible. She will know where they are. And she will find them.”
  8202. >Blueblood nods in understanding, a little more vigorously than required
  8203. >Then, without asking for any further elaboration, he’s in his limo, the door shut behind him, the limo rolling away down the avenue
  8204. >Into the light, and out of sight
  8205. >”Hm.”
  8206. >Sweetie Drops shrugs, leaning against the glass of the café window
  8207. >”So? Before I give you my opinion, you told me to ask for yours.”
  8208. “He wasn’t wearing a wire.”
  8209. >”You didn’t exactly give him enough time to prepare one.”
  8210. “He may be an idiot of the highest caliber, but even he isn’t dumb enough to pass up an opportunity like this. Not when I’ve handed it to him on a silver platter. Unless you think differently.”
  8211. >Drops closes her eyes, sighs, shakes her head
  8212. >”He’s clean. Well, not clean, obviously. But you know what I mean. Black Bar really doesn’t have him.”
  8213. “He’s the stallion for the job.”
  8214. >”Seems like he needs to be. Hay, that stuff about your secretary wasn’t in the briefing. You’re really sending Moon Dancer to Baltimare with a false ID?”
  8215. “Really and truly.”
  8216. >”Seems pointless. Word’ll get out. Black Bar won’t be fooled by a fake ID, nor will he be fooled into thinking that you THINK he’ll be fooled. Unless…”
  8217. “One step further.”
  8218. >”Ha. Oh, wow. That’s… that’s good. Kudos.”
  8219. >This time, it’s your turn to take a slight bow
  8220. “I do try.”
  8221. >Stepping out of the shadow of the awning, into the slight chill that always comes with dawn, you find yourself wishing to do anything other than return to your office
  8222. >Take a helicopter up to the Mons peak, go for a swim in the Ballamas, golfing with…
  8223. >But that’s all so restrictive, isn’t it?
  8224. >What would you REALLY be doing, if you weren’t there, in the White Crown of the Mons, plotting, planning, surviving?
  8225. >If you could be anywhere…
  8226. >Crystallatia
  8227. >Crystallatia, lost in your studies, thinking there really was a better world out there somewhere
  8228. >If you could think that again, if you could forget the world that surrounds you now, this pinnacle…
  8229. >Well, you suppose it’d be quite dull, anyhow
  8230. “Ms. Drops.”
  8231. >”Chancellor?”
  8232. “Have Ms. Dancer schedule another appointment with Brittle Bong for this afternoon. Send somepony down to notify him that I need a second opinion on a certain Material. Also, inform my people that there’s going to be a press release set for tomorrow, wherein I’ll address our non-involvement in this obvious false flag by the Cult of Exsilium.”
  8233. >”Sir.”
  8234. “I’m entrusting you with informing the families of the two fallen Seventh Aerial pegasi. Their loss is a loss for all Canterium, those poor souls. Gunned down by flak cannons in Unicronia. Sacrificed themselves to save innocent lives. Golden Saddles and highest military honors for both of them. Bury empty caskets.”
  8235. >”Yes, sir.”
  8236. “Now, just one last loose end. Do you know what it is?”
  8237. >”I assume you’ll tell me, sir.”
  8238. “Come, now. Take a guess. Just for my entertainment.”
  8239. >”The daughter’s MIA.”
  8240. “The daughter is MIA. Probably dead. But maybe not. The Seventh is predisposed. If she’s alive, if she finds her way across the border, spills her guts about what she witnessed—Pericles, Captain Spitfire, collusion between Canterian black ops agents and an ambassador of the Cult, my direct involvement—we’re going to have problems.”
  8241. >”We can’t send another strike team. The Cult’s presence in and around Pegasopolis is bound to be overwhelming by now.”
  8242. “A strike team? No, of course not. Nothing so dramatic. We don’t need to enter PAS territory, we just need to wait for her to elude the Cult. And if she does…”
  8243. >”Red notice.”
  8244. “Bulletined at every checkpoint, at every train station, in every restroom of every outpost from here to Unicronia. Her face, her name.”
  8245. >A few final drops of rain spackle against your face, the last vestige of a cloud wrung dry
  8246. >Doesn’t hurt to get a little wet sometimes, though
  8247. >After all, in a world where failure does not exist…
  8248. >Where the only condition of survival is the sacrifice of ponies that are not you…
  8249. >All you can really do is punish those who refused those conditions, who chose sacrifice over survival
  8250. >All you can really do is plan for the unexpected
  8251. >Those drops of random rain from a summer cloud, vanishing into nothing
  8252. “All Army personnel should be informed by noon. Rainbow Dash is to be killed on sight.”
  8253.  
  8254. ******
  8255.  
  8256. >”You’re killing me back here, y’know. You’re literally killing me.”
  8257. >Patient though you must be, tolerant as you have found yourself of the outside world, you must admit…
  8258. >The pegasus is beginning to get on your nerves
  8259. >And if she’s causing you discomfort, it must be that much worse for Applejack
  8260. >”Doing the best I can up here, sugarcube. It ain’t exactly easy going for me, either.”
  8261. >The clear consternation in your friend’s strained voice tells you all you need to know
  8262. >This is a clear test of faith, one you’re struggling to pass
  8263. >You are Twilight Sparkle, and your hooves are on fire
  8264. >Celestia granted you the strength to scale See Rock with its crags and slippery terrain, and yet now, after all you’ve been through…
  8265. >The crash, dismantling the truck, rigging this contraption, carrying Rainbow Dash’s near-lifeless body up a hill…
  8266. >What would otherwise be a pleasant walk through some lovely woods is proving to be taxing
  8267. >You’ve been walking for probably eight hours now, resting only for lunch and to periodically adjust AJ’s rope harness
  8268. >Through all of it, your posture’s grown stiffer, your pace more sluggish, and each hoofstep feels like it strikes the earth harder and more painfully than the last
  8269. >You’ve never had to walk this far in your entire life, nor were you ever one to go out of your way to exercise
  8270. >Fitness was always Cherry Berry’s domain; you found more comfort in the lamplit zone of your bedchambers, reading, knowing, appreciating the Word of the Prophetess and the equations of the old masters in equal measure
  8271. >In short, you are not having a good time
  8272. >The cloak draped across your back is drenched in sweat, and though deprived of your saddlebags, you feel heavier than ever
  8273. >Four hours ago, you began to develop a relentless shortness of breath, and it’s only gotten worse
  8274. >Dry throat, squinty eyes, spikes in your fetlocks, clamps on your flanks…
  8275. >Moving, always moving, moving away from near-certain danger, and towards certain danger
  8276. >So, of course, you can’t imagine how Applejack must feel
  8277. >She’s fitter than you by far, but her burden is far greater; she alone pulls the jury-rigged wheelbarrow that holds the crippled pegasus, along with all your other belongings that survived the crash
  8278. >Over hill, through water, through mud and between rock faces and around trees she’s marched, not complaining once
  8279. >You really don’t know how she does it… the strength of the Element, perhaps?
  8280. >But she doesn’t bear it in her hoof, doesn’t… it must be all her
  8281. >And the pegasus has the gall to complain?
  8282. >You ought to…
  8283. >”Hay, uh, Twilight. Can you pass me some water?”
  8284. >You glance over your shoulder, wincing from the crick in your neck as you do, to see the pegasus flashing you a false-charming grin
  8285. >Narrowing your eyes, you oblige her, removing the canteen from AJ’s saddlebag while the cart is still in motion, passing it on to Rainbow
  8286. >With her one good hoof, she drinks greedily from the nozzle for several seconds
  8287. “Hay… hold on now, you shouldn’t… um… stop it! Who knows when we’ll get to more fresh water?”
  8288. >Rainbow Dash holds a hoof up as if to silence you, taking several more gulps before finally lowering the canteen and wiping her chin
  8289. >That irreverent smile…
  8290. >”I happen to ‘knows’. There’s a stream not far from here. We’ll get there before we get to the outpost.”
  8291. >With that, she weakly throws the near-empty canteen back into the pouch, metallic clangs ringing off the pale aspens as it ricochets against the metal frame of the cart
  8292. >Then, giggling and muttering something to herself, she drapes herself across the interior curve of your contraption, back into her blissful little rest
  8293. “Urgh.”
  8294. >Little…!
  8295. >No
  8296. >Sighing, you trudge on, shaking away those awful intrusive thoughts
  8297. >How could you think such things of a fellow Bearer?
  8298. >Like Applejack, she’s agreed to join in this Mission, this holiest of holy treks towards the union of this world, the freeing of the future from the suffering of the past, as Numena so aptly put it
  8299. >And beyond that, the pain she must be enduring, both her wings shattered, a hoof twisted cruelly outwards
  8300. >Your thoughts are shameful, Twilight… there’s nothing more she could do
  8301. >Besides be a tad more grateful that you and Applejack have borne her from that catastrophe…
  8302. “Hmph.”
  8303. >You promise to atone for these thoughts during your sunset recitations, plunging your hooves deep into the wet soil and looking to the sky for answers
  8304. >Stark-white branches, full with leaves of many shades, cast intricate shadows across that highest of planes
  8305. >The rays of Mater’s light come down as tiny spotlights, illuminating random patches of dead leaves and sticks, the leftovers from the previous autumn
  8306. >The hilliness of the last few miles has given way to flatter terrain, and on this poor excuse for a dirt trail, overgrown with dark crabgrass and clinging wildflowers, that’s a great boon
  8307. >If you could soar, as the Prophetess once did… if you could see this place as she saw it, you’re certain you would find it majestic
  8308. >The Whittlewood, the confluence of Canterian East and Forbidden Westlands
  8309. >You vaguely recall reading a description of this great patchwork of forest and plain in Tinsel Quill’s From Empire to Republic: Canterium’s Bloodiest War
  8310. >Yes… when Rainbow Dash first spoke aloud the name of this place, you were reminded of a passage from that old tome; something about a skirmish around an old temple
  8311. >And, of course, there is the Tenth Book of the Sun’s parable of the Prophetess gifting a circlet of vines to the dying Fauna foal, which took place in the “White-Tail Woods”
  8312. >Which you’re almost certain is the same place…
  8313. >Despite the relative tranquility of this day’s hike, however, you can’t help but feel a looming presence creeping across your back
  8314. >If you were to happen upon the Cult of Exsilium, you can’t imagine the encounter would be friendly
  8315. >No inhabitants of the woodland, but for the rabbits, the birds, the spiders stringing silk between the trees; Rainbow Dash insisted that all PAS forces were dispatched to Pegasopolis prior to the attack
  8316. >Which SHOULD mean, according to her, that the radio outpost ahead will be abandoned and full of supplies, and possibly even transport
  8317. >But that depends entirely on whether…
  8318. “Are you certain we’re going the right way?”
  8319. >”Eh?”
  8320. >Rainbow Dash shifts her posture, lazily crawling from one side of the cart to the other to address you
  8321. >As she does, the cart creaks louder, the pressure on one of AJ’s shoulders becoming more intense than the other, and she grumbles in her quiet frustration
  8322. >”I think I know my own country better than the two of you, thanks. As long as we stick to the trail, we should be there before nightfall. Maybe. I’ve never traveled this slow before.”
  8323. “H… urgh.”
  8324. >You wanted to snap back at the pegasus for insulting Applejack’s best efforts, but decide to give her the benefit of the doubt
  8325. >After all, it’s true that pegasi aren’t any more used to this mode of travel than you are
  8326. “My concern is that there’s hardly any trail here. And if, by chance, Mater sets—”
  8327. >”Excuse me?”
  8328. “Ahem. The SUN sets before we reach this outpost of yours, then…”
  8329. >”Then we pick back up in the morning.”
  8330. >This time, it’s Applejack to raise her voice in response, wiping the sweat from her brow and flicking mud into a patch of azaleas
  8331. >”Look, nopony knows we’re out here, right? And though we ain’t exactly a subtle bunch, we’re small. We ain’t getting looked for. And you might not see the trail, Miss Sunshine, but I do.”
  8332. >There was a hint of venom in that last remark, but you reluctantly choose to let it slip
  8333. >Applejack’s under a lot of pressure, after all…
  8334. >”Now, s’long as I’m dragging you along, Rainbow Dash… actually, that’s quite a mouthful. Mind just Dashie?”
  8335. >”Do I mind it? A little.”
  8336. >”Well then, Dashie, I’m feeling a tad bit bored up here. And since you ain’t doing much walking, you get to be our entertainment.”
  8337. >Rainbow’s face reflexively scrunches up, her eyes flickering with that telltale ire you’ve already come to associate with her
  8338. >Grunting, she flexes her wings, winces, and returns them to their folded position
  8339. >”What do you expect ME to do?”
  8340. >”I know you said you ain’t never been to Unicronia, but… ugh, Twi, can you help me over this rock?”
  8341. “Sure thing.”
  8342. >Wheeling back behind the cart, you nudge against the long steel rear until the wheels manage to clear the large, jagged boulder obstructing them
  8343. >”Thanks. Anyhow, Unicronia. I reckon you still know more than we do.”
  8344. >“There isn’t much I could tell you that you probably don’t already know. You’re globetrotters, aren’t you? Nomadic types.”
  8345. “Emmmm… not exactly. Though I can see why you’d get that impression.”
  8346. >Rainbow notices your sheepish grin with a sideways glance, and, somewhat surprisingly, bursts into cackling laughter
  8347. >Laughter that rings through the trees, scaring birds out of their resting trees
  8348. >Laughter that eventually transforms into a hacking cough, at which point Rainbow settles down
  8349. >”Oh, Gorgons… hoh, your face just now… um, ahem. Yeah. That was kinda-sorta a joke.”
  8350. “I don’t really see how—”
  8351. >”Look, land-dwellers. If you want to know about Unicronia, read a book. Or better yet, watch the news. Whatever news isn’t complete, blatant propaganda in Canterium. Actually, on second thought, don’t watch the news.”
  8352. >”All we’re looking for is an appraisal. We don’t want to approach this place as unprepared as we came to your city.”
  8353. “Please.”
  8354. >Rainbow looks you dead-on, even bouncing and wobbling as she is on the uneven path
  8355. >Then, she sighs, resting her head against the side of the cart, her eyes still firmly fixed on you
  8356. >”They’re unicorns. It’s in the name. Old, old city in the mountains. Apparently, one of the last places left in Equestron where near-everypony you meet is proficient in unicorn magic.”
  8357. >You involuntarily rub your horn as you walk; that dull pain at the base flashes upward again, eliciting a shiver
  8358. >What a chill in the air, and in this new summer, too…
  8359. >”Oh, right. You’re not too keen on unicorn magic, are you? Think it’s some kind of curse.”
  8360. “A Blight. An imitation of the Truth of the Prophetess’ magic. It obscures the path to the Mother’s Garden.”
  8361. >”Right. Well, in that case, you’re not gonna make many new friends there. Or maybe you will, if the Cult beats down the gate before we get there. You have a lot in common with them, little Miss Sunshine.”
  8362. >You REALLY didn’t want that to become a common nickname among the group
  8363. >Applejack notices, and smirks at you for a moment before trudging on through a shallow creek bed
  8364. >The placid waters splashing away from her hooves… they remind you of a terrible dream
  8365. >A dream about sinking… and beasts from the Depths…
  8366. >Interestingly, Rainbow too seems to flinch as the cart passes through the water, despite the licking tongues of cold water coming nowhere close to its edge
  8367. >There’s genuine worry behind her veneer of frustration and snark… worry for what, though, you really can’t say
  8368. >For your part, you use the canteen to scoop some of that cool water up, replenishing your supply
  8369. “You already said that this morning. And I already explained the difference.”
  8370. >”Well, regardless, they’re getting damn close, if reports are to be believed. You Canterians have kept them gunning on the fringe of the Fell Plain for months now, but the barrage is ongoing. Whatever the Canterian Army throw at their parallels bounces off, and vice versa. It’s a genuine true-to-life siege, and the Cult gain inches every day.”
  8371. >”Inches ain’t much.”
  8372. >”No, but the Unicronians have a shield wall. Insulated with magic, sustained by… well, nopony really knows. A powerful unicorn, I’d imagine. It stands up to long range artillery, but conventional short-range flak might punch a hole in it. Continuous, that is.”
  8373. “What about nuclears?”
  8374. >Silence, but for the whistle of the wind in the trees
  8375. >A hundred thousand wooden hairs standing up on the back of the earth’s neck
  8376. >These thoughts… these dreams…
  8377. >(Motivations)
  8378. >”That’s… that isn’t going to happen. The Cult won’t risk tossing a nuke at Unicronia.”
  8379. “Why not?”
  8380. >The sky-blue pegasus rolls her eyes in a most condescending way
  8381. >You’re reminded of Sister Freshleaf, casting her eyes down at you whenever, as a little filly Initiate, you sang a song of praise out of key
  8382. >Terrifying, not to receive her approval
  8383. >Terrifying, to feel stupid
  8384. >You realize all too suddenly that despite asking her countless stupid questions, Applejack has never made you feel that way before with a look
  8385. >This pegasus, on the other hoof…
  8386. >”Because the Chancellor of Canterium would toss one right back at them. Look, the PAS built the Cult a nuclear stockpile, that was part of the arrangement of the Trust. In exchange, we benefitted from the luxuries of the Handbook in ways the Canterian government never allotted to pegasi. But we never built them with the intention of them getting used. It was a preventative measure. We WANTED to be seen by Canterium. Wanted them to KNOW the pile of bombs we were standing on was just as big as theirs. That way, the Cult couldn’t be threatened into retreat.”
  8387. >”Why didn’t the Cult just build the bombs themselves?”
  8388. >”Too busy making everything else. I don’t know, I didn’t work the manufactories. I was a soldier. I think part of it may have been the radiation. New Exsilia is way out west, where the Makers blew themselves into dust. Can’t risk the leftover radiation interacting with the uranium of the new bombs. So they pegged us for the job.”
  8389. “Making weapons of mass destruction for killers.”
  8390. >”Don’t get all righteous on me, Snarkle.”
  8391. “It’s… Sparkle.”
  8392. >”Whatever. I thought you wanted to know about Unicronia.”
  8393. >Applejack flips her mane, catching part of it in a low branch as she passes
  8394. >”Nnk… what’s important to us is that we get in, find whatever we’re looking for, and get out. You said you saw the battlefield in your vision, right?”
  8395. >”Er… yeah. But that doesn’t mean that…”
  8396. >”Any developments we should know about? Do we even know how we’re going to enter the city? Because Celestia knows it would’ve been a problem last time, had we not found you on the ground.”
  8397. >The pegasus scratches her chin a little too long, as if she’s considering how she’s going to say what she says next, rather than what
  8398. >It’s a habit that Sister Twinkleshine was always quite fond of, a habit of uncertainty
  8399. >That, or concealment
  8400. >”I told you we needed to cross the river again. Maglev tracks span the gap and tunnel through the mountains a ways. I’ve seen pictures, tactical sims, that sort of thing.”
  8401. >”You planned on invading?”
  8402. >”We planned for the unexpected. The train line’s the only way in from the south, but the bridge itself is wide. Wide enough for other supply vehicles to cross by the trains. If we could hitch another ride…”
  8403. >”Big if.”
  8404. >”All I’m saying is, it isn’t impossible. There are road networks past the river. Real infrastructure. And then Unicronia itself. The whole way swarming with Canterian Army, of course, but that’s a whole other problem entirely.”
  8405. >”You may think it’s a problem, but we don’t. ‘Sides, ain’t nothing to identify you as PAS.”
  8406. >”Let’s just assume they don’t let me in. And whatever happens, we have to pass through White Junction, but I’m way too tired to get into how—”
  8407. >”Urk!”
  8408. >Lost in the flow of the conversation, you find yourself plowing face-first into the backside of the cart
  8409. >Bright spots dance in your eyes, and you dizzily relocate your footing with a mad twirl
  8410. >Why did Applejack stop?
  8411. “AJ? Wh-what’s wrong?”
  8412. >Peering over the corner of the cart, you see your friend immobilized against the verdant greens of the canopy, her shadow long in the waning sun
  8413. >Moreover, you realize how much the terrain has altered since last you checked your surroundings
  8414. >Across from you, beyond a thick grove of aspens, you can barely make out a dip resembling a cliff edge
  8415. >Below that dip, perhaps a hundred more feet below your current level, are trees that resemble nothing else you’ve seen on the trail thus far
  8416. >Wider branches, winding trunks, darker leaves, fronds in black and deep purple
  8417. >It isn’t necessarily unnatural to see such a shift in the flora, just… unexpected
  8418. >Applejack, however, appears utterly transfixed
  8419. “AJ? Can you—”
  8420. >”I… I saw her. Just now. Over there.”
  8421. >Your friends voice is dripping with restrained terror, and she’s even shaking
  8422. >”M-my Element. Where’s my Element?”
  8423. “It’s in the saddlebag, AJ. It’s where you left it.”
  8424. >”No, no, it’s gone. I don’t have it, it ain’t on me. It ain’t…”
  8425. “AJ. Look.”
  8426. >Hurriedly, you dig through the fabric coverings at Rainbow’s hooves to find the orange crystal still there, emitting that warm but menacing glow as always
  8427. “It’s here, AJ. It’s safe.”
  8428. >”I saw her right there. Just past those trees. I saw the yellow one. The one I told you about.”
  8429. “AJ, that’s… that’s impossible. It’s a sheer drop, a-and—”
  8430. >”I don’t mean I really saw her! She wasn’t there! But I… I felt like she was. I knew she wasn’t real, but she… I just don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it.”
  8431. “It’s okay, Applejack. Maybe we should just rest—”
  8432. >”NO!”
  8433. >Your friend practically screams at you, her head jerking from left to right, as if searching for something
  8434. >Searching for her
  8435. “Applejack. I believe you, okay? I b-believe you.”
  8436. >”Hnh.”
  8437. >Sweating, Applejack finally manages to calm herself a bit, burying her face in her forehooves and loosening her harness in the process
  8438. >Rainbow’s cart shifts back a bit, prompting the pegasus to bolt upright
  8439. >Applejack… seeing visions… more and more, you believe that the Truth is revealing itself to her
  8440. >Through her Element, through her power, it’s… it’s bypassing you, passing through her instead
  8441. >A Bearer… and you, only a shepherd?
  8442. >In a way, it hardly seems fair…
  8443. >”I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I keep seeing her, out of the corner of my eye. This is the first time that I KNOW I saw her, but… but she wasn’t real. It felt like she was… IN my eye. Y’know? Huh. Celestia’s sake, I can’t even say it in a way that makes sense.”
  8444. “It makes sense to me. You’re seeing beyond what this mere material world has to offer. You’re seeing past the clouds, AJ. Seeing past the Truth. It’s why the Element is yours. It’s what makes you compatible.”
  8445. >Seeing everything you don’t…
  8446. >”But even when I’m not holding it, I see these things… these visions.”
  8447. >You smile softly, reaching out to brush Applejack’s matted mane with your hoof
  8448. “You’re connected with it intrinsically. You know that. The six seeds of prophecy… they’re the Elements, yes. The physical expressions of Mater’s will. Artifacts. But they’re also the Bearers. You’re important to all of this, AJ. You. You’ve seen visions like these before.”
  8449. >”Only in dreams. A-and in the cave. And I guess, when I was connected with Rainbow here. But that was practically a dream too, I was unconscious. I can’t help but think… think that what I said before was true. That this yellow mare…”
  8450. “Already has her Element.”
  8451. >A Bearer united with her Element without your guidance
  8452. >In theory, it should be possible, but… as the instrument of Mater’s will, it’s thus far been your presence that’s facilitated this cascade of choices
  8453. >You brought Applejack to See Rock, you rescued Rainbow Dash from certain demise…
  8454. >And now, together, you’re going to determine what awaits you in Unicronia… a new Element, a new Bearer, perhaps even both
  8455. >To think there was another who…
  8456. >”There was something else. She spoke.”
  8457. “Spoke?”
  8458. >(Spokes of a Wheel)
  8459. >”I heard her say something, real soft. Almost blended in with the wind, but now… I think I know what she said. It was ‘Not yet.’”
  8460. >”What’s that supposed to mean?”
  8461. >Rainbow sounds exhausted; you’re suddenly reminded once more of how much she’s endured
  8462. >The pain in her broken limbs must have been lessened somewhat by the trappings you fashioned out of one of your spare cloaks, but it isn’t enough
  8463. >Despite your misgivings about her attitude, you have to admit to yourself that you would probably be quite grumpy too, if you’d experienced what she’s experienced
  8464. >Applejack huffs, cresting yet another hillock and tugging her harness to keep the cart in tow
  8465. >She’s still peering out to the west, out over that strange dark part of the forest
  8466. >”Heck if I know. But… Twilight, you were the one who said something about an order once. Right?”
  8467. “An… order?”
  8468. >”A sequence. Like, uh… Mother Sun’s plan. Fate bringing the Bearers together. Like a chain reaction. But the links of that chain need to come in a certain order for it to be strongest.”
  8469. “I… I don’t remember. Could you have heard it in one of your visions?”
  8470. >”No, no, you… ugh. Never you mind. Let’s just—uh?”
  8471. >Applejack’s ears perk up, and her eyes narrow
  8472. >You feel it too; a low rumbling, growing louder and higher
  8473. >Then, moments later, your makeshift cart begins to rumble, achieving resonance with the frequency of noise heading in your direction
  8474. >”Nuh-uh-uh-uh-uh hey! Wh-what are you doing? Why are you shaking me?”
  8475. >”I ain’t! It’s… oh, hell. Twilight, the cloaks! Now!”
  8476. >Without thinking, without even asking why, you practically dive towards the cart, tossing items out of the way until you come upon your two remaining spare cloaks, folded somewhat less than neatly at the bottom of your bag
  8477. >You hand the green articles to Applejack, who shakes her head, handing one back and pointing to a nervous Rainbow Dash
  8478. >It’s getting closer, this feeling you recognize
  8479. >The feeling of something airborne, something large and menacing
  8480. >But the pitch is darker now… darker and more fractured
  8481. >Hooves shaking, you unfold the cloak and drape it over Rainbow, who doesn’t struggle, but grits her teeth and looks at you with a panicked expression
  8482. >Finally, you lower yourself completely to the ground, flipping the cowl of your own cloak over your mane and horn, letting the whole of it disguise you against the green forest floor
  8483. >Applejack does the same, and together the three of you wait
  8484. >Wait for it to pass
  8485. >Through a small sliver between the ground and your hood, you can make out a dark oblong shape passing just east of you, suspended fifty feet above the treetops with three chopper blades
  8486. >It’s perhaps the size of four trucks placed end to end, and aside from its rotary appendages and a few reflective markings, it’s completely featureless
  8487. >A dark, angular albatross, sweeping across the darkening blue sky
  8488. “Exsilists…”
  8489. >”Shh. Let it pass.”
  8490. >Trembling, unsure of how well your camouflage is working, you watch as the scouting vessel scans the forest for movement
  8491. >Moving in a straight line, it continues on for several agonizing minutes before it’s finally out of sight, obscured by thousands of branches and leaves
  8492. >Another minute later, and the rumbling stops
  8493. >Safety…
  8494. >Applejack tosses off her cloak as you stand, gathering hers and Rainbow’s and stuffing them back into the cart
  8495. >There’s a moment of harsh silence before Applejack breaks the tension
  8496. >”We should… uh… keep moving.”
  8497. >Keep moving
  8498. >Always moving towards something, always adding new pieces to the puzzle, never certain how they’ll fit together
  8499. >An Angel of light bears you a message, gives you hope, gives you purpose
  8500. >You are the Sister Ascendant, the shepherd, the Supermatron, the…
  8501. >You are Twilight Sparkle
  8502. >And for just a flicker in time, one moment standing here, surrounded by giants of wood, endless wild, this place where all but you seem to see the trail…
  8503. >For one moment, you lose faith
  8504. >Another reprimand for tonight; another transgression against Mother Sun for which you must repent
  8505. >Hours of walking from now, miles of breaking your body
  8506. >It was never meant to be this way… or was it?
  8507. >Is this how you are to be tested in the auspices of the Prophetess?
  8508. >And, if so…
  8509. >What grislier tests await you?
  8510.  
  8511. ******
  8512.  
  8513. “Nothing up here. Completely empty.”
  8514. >”C’mon, let me have a look.”
  8515. “And how d’ya suppose you’ll do that from down there? Think I’d miss a whole buggy? We’re out of luck.”
  8516. >”Can’t be…”
  8517. >Against the dwindling sunlight, the dark tower rises, its crossbeams a spiderweb stretched across the clouds
  8518. >At its peak, a red warning light oscillates, on then off
  8519. >A crimson star, then nothing
  8520. >You are Applejack, and your luck has just about run out
  8521. >Rainbow Dash had hoped to find a vehicle at this PAS radio outpost, but after a thorough search of the premises, you’ve found squat
  8522. >You checked all three garages laid out in a row upon the dirt clearing, you’ve checked behind the barracks, and now you’ve even checked on top of the flat-roofed generator building
  8523. >Your new pegasus co-traveler told you that sometimes, the rover buggies used for ground transport are shuttled in by blimps, and they may have left it on a rooftop while leaving in a hurry
  8524. >But there’s nothing here; in the half-hour since you arrived here, just before the sun reached the horizon, you haven’t found anything resembling transportation
  8525. >And that’s very, very bad news for your joints
  8526. >You hop down from your perch on a humming AC unit, take careful steps along the shiny exterior duct, and peek over the edge of the ten-foot drop down to ground level
  8527. >Below you, Rainbow Dash sulks in her carriage, hooves crossed, looking even more disappointed than yourself somehow
  8528. “Don’t look so sour down there. You ain’t the one that’s gotta haul that thing for… how much longer, anyhow?”
  8529. >Without looking up at you, Rainbow rubs her temple with her good forehoof, making an even bigger mess of her nest of multicolored mane
  8530. >”Another day, at least. Maybe two. That’s how far the next outpost is from here. I don’t… damnit. Damnit.”
  8531. >Still watching the pegasus pout, you sidle over to the slanted stepladder at the far end of the building, resting your hooves on the handles and skidding your way back down to earth
  8532. “Another day or two, and it seems to me we’ll be at the border. According to the map, at least.”
  8533. >”That’s the problem. There’s an abandoned railway about ten miles down the road from here, and once we hit that it’ll be much smoother walking, at least. But the further we follow those tracks, the more we risk running into Canterian personnel.”
  8534. “As opposed to Exsilist personnel? Don’t sound like so bad a tradeoff to me.”
  8535. >”You don’t understand, Applejack. At this point, it doesn’t matter who we’re being hunted by, only how solid their perimeters are. And the border between Canterium and the West is as solid as they come. Even if we find a transport, we’ll be skirting that line for hundreds of miles before we reach the river crossing.”
  8536. >You teeter on the grassy line between the dirt backlot and the ridge leading down into the tangle below, walking back towards Rainbow and her cart
  8537. >When you first saw the radio tower cresting the trees over the final hillock of this leg of the journey, you were equal parts exhilarated and terrified
  8538. >Exhilarated, that at least for the time being, your long walk was over, and that you’d get some much deserved rest, preferably in an actual bed for the first time in a week and a half
  8539. >Terrified, that you may very well be drawing more attention to yourselves by coming here, rather than roughing it in the woods
  8540. >The station sits on a low plateau of sorts, with rocky bluffs leading down into the woods on three sides
  8541. >On the fourth, an actual clear dirt road leads down a slope and cuts between the dense trees to the north
  8542. >Having approached on such an unkempt old trail from the south, you can see tomorrow’s voyage being far less strenuous than today’s
  8543. >But, once again, the fear of staying on that path, of being conspicuous to these Exsilist drones, makes you doubly wary
  8544. >You furrow your eyebrows when you reach Rainbow, lifting the front end of her cart up off the ground and dragging it away from the brush
  8545. >She seems to notice what you’re thinking…
  8546. >”Something you wanna say to me?”
  8547. “No.”
  8548. >”You’re a bad liar, Applejack. Even worse than me. That was the first thing I learned about you, remember? Like it or not, I saw what you—”
  8549. BANG
  8550. >”OW! Hey!”
  8551. >Without meaning to, you tripped over a pebble, losing your grip on the cart and causing Rainbow to crash down hard
  8552. >You turn to look at her, sweating, watching her fuss with her gauze trappings, scratching the exposed parts of her burns
  8553. >Her eyes are rubies… she is looking at you, SEEING you…
  8554. “Stop it.”
  8555. >”Stop what?”
  8556. “Doing that! You’re only going to make it worse if you irritate your wounds like that.”
  8557. >”You dropped me, you dumb mule! You could have broken something else! Or is that what you wanted, to make me suffer!”
  8558. “You? Ha! What about me, I’m the one that carried you over hill and dale to this place that, what, you THOUGHT had a ride? Never mind the fact that we’re apparently being hunted! And you—”
  8559. >”Oh, boo hoo! In case you forgot, I didn’t sign up to be your crippled third wheel!”
  8560. “You’d have been DEAD back there had we not come along, flygirl! Nothing you say or do about it can change the fact that—”
  8561. >”That you’re keeping me captive just like the Exsilists would have? Don’t think I didn’t notice you seething in silence the whole way here, land-dweller. I didn’t trick you, I didn’t bring you here for the laughs! It was our best damn option, and you’re… you’re…”
  8562. >Red in the cheeks
  8563. >Your muzzle’s tightened up like a slinky, your eyes narrower than a rattlesnake’s neck
  8564. >You’re not yourself, and your Element, your Element is…
  8565. >”They’re heating up. Both of them.”
  8566. “I know.”
  8567. >Somehow, you know
  8568. >Not somehow; it’s something Twilight could babble away about, make you understand, even if you don’t understand WHY you understand
  8569. >Wordlessly, you shuffle through the saddlebags at Rainbow’s hooves, until your Element lies fully exposed, shining and warm
  8570. >Warm with passion, with rage…
  8571. >Bound to your hoof again…
  8572. >Rainbow winces as she shakes her hoof from side to side, and you know that the Element lodged there, too, is glowing bright with her emotions
  8573. >These things are connected, intrinsically, they’re… part of a whole
  8574. >You can’t let yourself forget that
  8575. “I’m sorry. I… I ain’t myself. And I can’t fault you for being in the position you’re in.”
  8576. >”Yeah. Uh… likewise.”
  8577. >You barely heard that last part, for how much Rainbow grumbled it under her breath, but you sigh a breath of relief anyway
  8578. “Where did Twilight go? She was supposed to be back with those supplies ten minutes ago.”
  8579. >”I saw her head into the tower building last. Probably trying to make a signal.”
  8580. “Hmph.”
  8581. >Earlier on the road, Twilight had the idea of using the radio tower to try to contact Sweet Apple Manor, to let Granny know you’re safe
  8582. >Without a phone signal way out here, she couldn’t hope to contact her convent in Mons Canteria, but with a skipwave transmission bounced to the field comms back home, you could definitely make contact there
  8583. >Of course, there’s always the risk that Exsilists might listen in on your communications, since it’s their Maker satellites you’ll be using, but with all the outposts in these woods, it’s a risk you’re willing to take
  8584. >Except…
  8585. >A cold breeze rustles through the grass, tickling the nape of your neck as you stare into the void beyond the treeline
  8586. “I still have questions for you.”
  8587. >The Elements are cooling… embers turning to ash…
  8588. >”What kind of questions?”
  8589. “If you’re gonna be here, with us, then we need to be on the same page about everything. And I MEAN everything.”
  8590. >”I’m an open book.”
  8591. >Rainbow shifts in the straw that forms her bed in the cart, wings still firmly taped to her spine
  8592. “You talk about the Exsilists like they ain’t just patrolling. You said they were hunting us. Hunting you. Why would they be doing that?”
  8593. >You suddenly become very aware of the crickets chirping in the marsh below
  8594. >The subtle trickle of water from a drainage pipe, down the dark slope and into the pitch blackness
  8595. >The sun is almost fully set, and the iridescent reds of the sunset sky are giving way to purples and stars
  8596. >You glance over at Rainbow, watching the last remaining light glare off her tired eyes, dancing as those eyes flit about
  8597. >”They want everypony in Pegasopolis. Any stragglers, they’ll…”
  8598. “How do you know what they want? I thought you were just a grunt.”
  8599. >”I’m a Stormwing of the Pegasus Armistice State, not a ‘grunt.’ Time Turner found me, remember? He told me things. And when the invasion started, he… he gave me the Element.”
  8600. “You’re holding out on me. I told you not to lie.”
  8601. >”I’m not lying! I’m telling you everything you need to know, which is more than I’m usually willing to give to ponies who cart me around against my will!”
  8602. >Hotter again
  8603. >The Elements really do respond just like that, energy for passion
  8604. >Or is it the other way around? Are you… serving their needs, instead of them serving yours?
  8605. “Let me tell you one thing, Rainbow. One thing you’re right about. This thing in my hoof…”
  8606. >You point at the faintly glowing orange artifact, which has affixed itself within your scarred frog like a turtle taking refuge in its shell
  8607. “This represents Honesty. It represents Truth. Truth of the Prophetess, truth of the universe, whatever you want to call it. But I see you. Just as you see yourself. Now, that’s something I’m confident in. So if we’re both gonna survive, we both need to know what we’re up against. So I’ll ask you one more time: why are the Exsilists after you?”
  8608. >Rainbow raises her hoof in protest, mouth agape, ready to trade your words again blow for blow
  8609. >But then, surprisingly, she sinks back down into her bed of straw, a look of stubborn defeat plastered on her face
  8610. >”I can’t… I…”
  8611. “Rainbow. Please.”
  8612. >The pegasus sighs, and the trees sigh with her
  8613. >”They want me to do something for them. They don’t know about the Element, or at least I don’t think they do. But they need me, dead, alive, it probably doesn’t matter at this point. And they have somepony I care about. Somepony I had the chance to save. And I tried… I tried so hard. That rainbow light you saw… I think that was me. It was me chasing him. But even going as fast as I possibly could… I wasn’t fast enough.”
  8614. “That light was my next question. We saw you falling out of it, smoking. What exactly was it?”
  8615. >”I don’t know. It’s something that… ever since I was a little filly, some part of me knew I could go faster than the other ponies. I started getting the feeling that I could even cross over… well, break the limit, I guess. The sound barrier.”
  8616. “Never heard of anypony even coming close to that without a jet engine.”
  8617. >”There was one time when I was sure I could do it. One time when I needed to do it. My mother, she… look, I’m not getting into this right now.”
  8618. “She died?”
  8619. >”…”
  8620. >Your shadow, which moments ago was lengthening across the western wall of the power building, has begun to fade with the loss of light
  8621. >If you were out there, among the trees, you’d need a fire by now
  8622. >You’d need flames licking at your hooves…
  8623. >(Burning from the inside)
  8624. “Mine too. A barn fire. My dad went with her. It’s how I got these.”
  8625. >You gesture loosely at the white scars zigzagging across your hoof
  8626. >Another spider web, another tangle of emotion
  8627. “I tried to save them, but ended up burning myself. I guess I… don’t like fire much, now.”
  8628. >(Scorching)
  8629. >”I’m sorry. That was probably awful for you.”
  8630. “What about you? You thought you could do something about it? Do something to save her?”
  8631. >”I was four. And even then, I had the power to do it. I KNEW I could break the limit, rush down and stop her from falling… but I held back. Because I was scared. And in all that time since then, I’ve never been able to do it. But this time…”
  8632. “This time the Element helped you.”
  8633. >”Actually? I don’t think it did.”
  8634. >Even in the dark, you can make out Rainbow’s pearly whites grinning brightly
  8635. >”I was beaten to a pulp. As you can see. And I thought it was over. Thought if I tried to fly for another second, I’d just break in half. The Element was completely drained. That well of power I could feel in my blood, it was drained. So the Element had nothing to do with it. It was all me.”
  8636. “You should tell that to Twilight. She’ll call it a miracle.”
  8637. >”Your friend’s a fanatic. As long as I’m being honest, I can’t say I care for her whole ‘holier than thou’ shtick.”
  8638. “You’ll warm up to it. Trust me, when I first met her, I thought she was a borderline basket case. Talking about her mission, and prophecies, acting like every blade of grass and mud puddle was a cherished treasure. But these last few weeks, I sincerely can’t tell you what I’d be doing without her. On this mission, of course, but even without it… it’ll sound ridiculous.”
  8639. >”You’re both ridiculous already.”
  8640. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier with my life than I am at this moment. Traveling the continent, having a purpose that ain’t just ‘do what Granny says until Granny ain’t around no more.’ I, uh… I…”
  8641. >”You trust her.”
  8642. >Strands of mane, falling in your face
  8643. >You blow them away, and lean on the edge of the cart
  8644. “You should too. She’s plucky. And surprisingly enough, for somepony who spent the first seventeen years of her life in a convent, she can handle herself pretty well when the going gets rough. And when you talk to her, it’s like… it’s like she don’t know herself, and she don’t know the things that are right in front of her muzzle, but she knows just about everything else there is to know.”
  8645. >”And you put faith in somepony like that? Somepony who doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
  8646. >Above you, the waxing stars drift along their chosen paths
  8647. >The Mare in the Moon watches you from her heavenly perch, one candescent eye always pointed at you
  8648. “What can I say? Miracles tend to happen around her.”
  8649. >”APPLEJACK!!! I GOT IT!”
  8650. >You whip around to face the hollering from far behind you
  8651. >At the end of the long dusty lawn of the station complex, a small violet figure is hopping up and down, illuminated by a glow emanating from the open doorway behind her
  8652. >”I GOT RICH VALLEY! I THINK I GOT ONE OF YOUR COUSINS! COME LISTEN!”
  8653. “Case in point.”
  8654. >Before Rainbow can protest, you hoist her cart up and roll it out of the rut it had become stuck in
  8655. >It’s straining to carry it like this after such a long day’s work, but you’d rather not tie the rigging again if you can help it
  8656. >Twilight waves one final time, then disappears back into the radio building, the tower looming large over it
  8657. >In about a minute, you’ll be over there, talking to your family, letting them know what’s happened to you…
  8658. >”So, is our little moment over?”
  8659. >Although…
  8660. “Not quite yet. There’s one more thing I need to know.”
  8661. >”You’re as stubborn as a mule, I’ll give you that. You’re a bona-fide land-dweller through and through.”
  8662. “You mentioned a place called White Junction on the road. I want to know what that was about.”
  8663. >”Mmf.”
  8664. >Even in the midst of the crickets, the breeze, the distant trickle, the uncomfortable silence is palpable
  8665. >”Um… it’s a Canterian outpost. South side of the river, connected to the maglev railway. If we want to cross the river, it’s going to have to be there.”
  8666. “So whatever happens, we have to slip by a whole base full of Canterian Army undetected.”
  8667. >”Not Army. I assume you’re familiar with Ordo Intelligentia.”
  8668. >You freeze in your tracks
  8669. >Dumbfounded, then afraid
  8670. >A burning sensation in your ears
  8671. >(Fire rising)
  8672. “You are not about to tell me that we have to sneak past a government research base.”
  8673. >”It used to just be a lumber mill. But our most recent intel suggests that your OI has set up shop there. They use it for recon into the woods. My… uh, General Hurricane believes that they’re looking for something out here. They have similar facilities that we monitor in other locations all across Canterium and beyond. Places like the Maker’s Fist.”
  8674. “Celestia above… we already had a near run-in with that place. I plucked my Element out of a mountain in the Badlands, and it made that… uh, I think you called it a ‘second sun.’ Anyway, few minutes later, there were about a dozen scary black choppers headed right for us. They don’t mess around about security.”
  8675. >”I know it isn’t ideal. But it’s our only option if we want to bust into Unicronia without drowning in the rapids.”
  8676. >Ordo Intelligentia
  8677. >The name strikes fear in the heart of anypony who even has an inkling of the kind of extrajudicial stunts they get up to
  8678. >They treat Canterian citizens and foreigners with equal callous disregard, and the horror stories of the torture methods they use on ponies who get in their way…
  8679. >You shudder to imagine what would happen if they caught you within a five mile radius of one of their black sites
  8680. >But if it really is your one shot of crossing over, of finding the next Element
  8681. >Of reuniting with…
  8682. >”Hay, since you’re such a nosy nelly, I get to ask you one.”
  8683. >You grunt as the cart catches in a patch of mud, lurching it a bit so that it breaks free
  8684. “Go ahead. Got nothing to hide.”
  8685. >”Back beneath Pegasopolis, when I said we were going to Unicronia, you got all clenched-up. Like there was something you wanted to say about it, but didn’t. Is there some reason you wouldn’t want to go there?”
  8686. “The four hundred mile trek ain’t enough for you?”
  8687. >”I may not have such a keen sense of truth-sight as you, but I’m not stupid. You asked all those questions about Unicronia, you wanted to know what the battlefield was like. Never mind all the—”
  8688. “My brother’s there.”
  8689. >”All the… oh. Oh. Army?”
  8690. “His name’s Big Macintosh. He enlisted last harvest, didn’t want none to do with the family business no more. Sends me letters back home all the time.”
  8691. >”You must be proud of him.”
  8692. “I am. And no offense to your Trust, but I hope he’s whooped Exsilist butt every day he’s been there.”
  8693. >”A month ago I might’ve taken offense to that. Now, I say let him.”
  8694. “Funny thing is, I never worried about him before I left home, went on this Mission. I guess I… I had no idea how hard it is to be out in country that ain’t yours. Country where you could die if you make one misstep. I always thought I did, but I guess I didn’t. Now… I just want to see him alive. Whatever happens in Unicronia, I want to see my brother. Tell him what’s happened to me. Hear him tell what’s happened to him. I want that to happen.”
  8695. >You smile, reminiscing in the dark about everything that’s transpired, all the stories you could tell
  8696. >Meeting Twilight in Rich Valley, crossing the desert, scaling See Rock, finding your Element, surviving a blitz…
  8697. >And now this, and Celestia knows how many more trials
  8698. >You can only hope that Big Mac, soft-spoken as he is, has so much to offer in return
  8699. “You got anypony like that? Somepony you can share anything with? Somepony who has your back no matter what?”
  8700. >With your final few steps towards the radio station, your hooves clipping the concrete patio outside the reinforced steel door, you’re suddenly bathed in warm amber light from that entrance
  8701. >When you look back at Rainbow, who’s similarly illuminated, her face half-light and half-shadow, you recognize an expression that’s unmistakable to you
  8702. >One that makes you wish you hadn’t asked that question
  8703. >”I did. Once.”
  8704. >”AJ! In here.”
  8705. >Before you can reply to Rainbow Dash, Twilight bounds into the threshold between the patio and the comms control room, her eyes bright with satisfaction
  8706. >”I fixed the banding issue. Then I found a dusty old manual with all the different hail codes, including those in Canterium. I suppose this station probably predates the PAS. Apple Fritter is on the other end, she says she’ll get you Granny Smith.”
  8707. “Good on you, Twilight. I knew you could figure it out.”
  8708. >”I also found a small first aid station in the barracks, with plenty of extra gauze, pain medication, and anything else that Rainbow might need. I assume you had no luck with finding a transport.”
  8709. “None. We’re hoofing it up to an old railway tomorrow. Rainbow takes point with navigation again.”
  8710. >Twilight looks utterly miserable upon hearing this news, but says nothing
  8711. >Even though you pulled the cart today, you could tell that she was suffering from the trek
  8712. >You felt so bad watching her climb one particularly steep hill that you nearly offered to let her ride alongside Rainbow
  8713. >Even now, a long sweat stain dries down the middle of Twilight’s green Sisterhood cloak, from neck to tail
  8714. >”Mater wills it so.”
  8715. >Twilight does her trademark little curtsy of deference, and steps outside just as you step in
  8716. >Inside the station, a wide array of dials, buttons, and labels stretches across a long panel, most of which are beyond your expertise
  8717. >One thing you do recognize, however, is the microphone, which you promptly move towards
  8718. >Nearby is a pair of very old-looking headphones, which you take the time to strap around your ears and chin
  8719. >FZZZZZZZZZZZZT
  8720. >You wait
  8721. >And wait
  8722. >The static buzz doesn’t make the waiting any easier
  8723. >Until finally…
  8724. >{“Applejack? App(fzzzz)ack, is that you?”}
  8725. >And just like that, your eyes are wet
  8726. >The sound of your Granny’s voice, muffled but recognizable, fills you with a feeling you can’t begin to describe
  8727. >It may as well have been years since you heard it, rather than mere weeks
  8728. >All that’s come to pass, all this Mission has in store for you
  8729. “Granny. I-I’m here, Granny.”
  8730. >{“Applejack. Oh, Applejack. Praise be to (fzzzzzzzz)ter for you. Where are you, swee(fzzzzz)?”}
  8731. “It’s a long story. But I’ve got all night.”
  8732.  
  8733. ******
  8734.  
  8735.  
  8736. Continued in ponepaste.org/8537 (Paste 4)
  8737. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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