Author's Notes:

And we're back after a long pause! Sorry for the wait. As it says on the tin, this here is the finale of this particular story arc. The story will be continued in the sequel, of which is well into early writing already! More info in a blog post soon!

Hope you enjoy!

The Alicorns of Asphodel
Equis, Equestria
Saturday, 26th June 2551 CE Celestial Standard Calendar

While Canterlot was preparing to celebrate the Grand Galloping Gala that day, a significantly different organisation from the Empire of Equestria was on the cusp of holding a meeting of dire importance to them.

In a city veiled behind the omnipresent yet distant roar of an immense wall of cascading water, housed within a sun and gemstone-lit, naturally-formed Central Grotto whose breadth spanned well over a kilometer in either direction, seven elaborately-robed bipedal and quadrupedal figures converged at a quick but not hurried pace on stone that never seemed to lose its polished-like shine.

Their destination was obvious to any of the city’s possible onlookers as they bustled about the streets in similar exotic attire, for they approached in glide-like steps towards a metal, stone, and crystalline complex close to the city square where trade and festivities of the arts occurred. Several circular wings a dozen stories high decorated by colonnades and winged, horned statues of their people that were just as tall coalesced into a single middle crystal arch-roofed spire that stood almost like a lighthouse as the highest precipice under the grotto ceiling.

It was an imposing structure to be sure, and would be considered ancient to most on the planet but by the locals’ standards, it was quite new. This extended to the city itself, which shared similar forms of architecture as the building the locals were preparing to enter.

One of them tilted her head to look up and appraise the growing facade of their destination as they approached. The building's tall, elegant windows appeared to be only mere frames, devoid of any kind of glass, but the being knew that something was in fact there. The field of magic in every frame, as thin as a razor’s blade, regulated everything that attempted to pass through it. Moreover, much more to the window field was its ability to change appearance at a user’s will to depict any number of decorative artistic scenes or simple displays of vibrant and vivid colour.

Decor of most all Asphodellian buildings were very often a reflection of their inhabitants’ dominant mood at any given time, with such visible effects being increasingly likely the more prominent the official of the building was.

At present, the blandly transparent and blank nature of the Citadel’s windows gave one clarion indication: The First Councilor of the Asphodel was in an informational mindset today. They’d best be prepared for much numerical figuring and the frequent tossing about of data, for the times called for such intensive analysis and parsing of information.

This laid at the crux of the group's visit. The First Councilor had summoned the entire Council of Asphodel to convene today to discuss events that they had all been keeping tabs on since the very moment of their first occurrence.

The councilor gazing at the front of the building casted her gaze down to rest her eyes upon first her silver and white-clad companions, and then the various inhabitants of the city all going about their daily business. Also drawing the eye was the variously-placed large, six sided star-shaped planters of lush vegetation that were each dominated by the flower from which the city of Asphodel had been named.

With all usual procedure, the councillors admitted themselves into the vast gallery of the Council Citadel. Its opulent floors proved to be just as bustling with activity as the streets outside.

Their brief walk took them all straight across the gallery to the middle of the citadel inside the council chambers that laid within the base of the spire. The spire’s main staircase was visible through the chambers’ apertured ceiling, and offered a near vertigo-inducing view straight up to the ceiling of the spire’s second-to-last floor.

Inside the council chambers was a circular table surrounded by twelve holographic terminals that all faced a six pointed star inlaid with a tree-like geometric rune. Five of the twelve were already present at their respective workstations, including the First Councilor himself as the group of seven remaining members joined them in the session. The humanoid First Councilor nodded to his fellows as they each took their places around the table.

Sounds from hooves and covered feet could be heard on the multihued stone floor. This was thanks to the serene quietude of the chambers compared to the distinct murmuring and busy-bodying that one could hear outside its doors.

“Welcome fellow councillors. Alicorns of Asphodel, the times we have been long preparing for are nearly upon us. Today we shall overview our mission once more and on consensus pass a final course of action. But first, let us commence with our openings,” the First Councilor proclaimed, whose attire was the exact same as his colleagues save for the addition of an ancient and weathered cape that bore an insignia similar but more complex and detailed than the symbol of the Asphodel.

Its glyphed star clutched by the phoenix was one of renown to the inhabitants of the room, although its rarity was by design as much as circumstance.

“It’s a privilege to be amongst one another as always,” one of the council replied with a friendly wave of their foreleg as they all gave their greetings to one another and the First Councillor or set about tending to their business at hand, their angular and elegant facial features mostly wrought with concentration and analysis.

A chiming following by a wink of light caused a projection of an alabaster male alicorn in an equine body to manifest atop the council table. He wore a set of distinct armour that hailed from the same era as the First Councilor’s cape. Its design principle emphasized overlapping, perfectly segmented plates and contained the same ancient insignia.

“Offensive Bias in attendance. Progress and status reports are available, who wishes to deliver them as I prepare presentations?”

“I shall, metarch,” a second councilor stated before he sung a seven-note melody to summon forth the screen of his station.

Over the tabletop, the galactic Local Group appeared with a chiming of Asphodel’s symbol. At first it was focused on the Andromeda galaxy, but a shift later and the projection focused on first the Milky Way, then a phoenix-shaped nebula in the Perseus Arm. Finally, the Solaris system, and Asphodel’s location on Equis.

“It is a fine day, in spite of the recent naval engagement in Equus’ proximity with the belligerent Meddler hegemony. The Inheritors were successful without potentially fatal localised losses thanks to the intervention of the Old Imperium’s Sixth Legion. Our preparation for involvement proved unnecessary,” the second councilor reported.

“Sixth Legion: archaic, defunct outside of enduring colloquialisms. Why not Fangs of Fenris if we prefer contemporary terminology, which I do?” Offensive Bias offered.

“Many terms of interchangeability in our times,” the councilor responded with a fleeting note of musing before continuing. “Since the incursion by the Meddlers, Inheritor military strength has already begun to react and flex, repairs and the construction of new vessels are underway throughout Solaris and their colonies.”

Text displaying damage and loss figures appeared into being in the air. Following alongside that was a sizeable projection of Equis and hundreds of tiny projections of ships of all kinds, overlays included with each providing vast amounts of detail on its status at the time the presentation was captured, compiled, and published by the AI Offensive Bias.

First Councilor smiled with recognition as a projection of the Praetor Leman Russ appeared with a statistics overlay as the presentation continued.

“It is most fortunate that one of our old allies was able to not only awaken, but to also be met with battle he no doubt craved and at such a needed time,” the First Councilor commented thoughtfully. “What is the status of our fair city?”

Another councilor smiled as she put a finger to a holographic button and initiated the table to shift to a view of the entire city around them. “All of Asphodel’s systems reporting in. Infrastructure is optimal. Baffler array is optimal. The flows of magic are within regulations. Neighagra Falls’ water flow is within regulations, and the recurring Inheritor tourist presence is devoid of any unusual behaviour. Offensive Bias, you … are optimal, obviously.”

“Always,” Offensive Bias replied with a wink as he moved to indulgently recline on his haunches.

“All subterranean connections to the Crystal City site, our remote outposts, and listening posts are optimal,” chimed in another. “Corruption from the Nightmare Forces remains within the Cathedral Network as it has for millennia. But take heed, we are continuing our regular work flows in stabilising it until the Domain becomes viable once more.

“Optimal! Diplomatic standings?” First Councilor proceeded onwards.

“The Diamond Dogs are maintaining their goodwill with us, as are the cervines of the Everfree and the Quetzalcoatl south of Equestria. All other cooperative powers follow suit,” the second councilor contributed. “Asphodel Pact members are submitting status reports, and should be finished and compiled for perusal by midnight.”

Offensive Bias arose from his luxuriant pose and turned to the First Councilor. “First Councilor, I believe it would be kind of a good idea to see to it before the Pact’s reports are compiled that we now overview our mission again and finalise our official action in regards to the Old Imperium’s Reclamation Measure. Remember that with the exception of Leman Russ and his forces, the bulk of the Reclaimers that shall assist and counsel the Inheritors have yet to be awoken from their no doubt blissful slumber.”

First Councilor nodded, smiling rather poignantly as his mane began to pick up in its flow from an invisible breeze. “Of course. When one has so much to remember even with ageless minds such as ours without the Domain … well, truncation and pseudo-senility. But indeed, Offensive! They must be awoken, and we must be there to aid in their tumultuous transition to a new world. Also remember the one that preceded Leman by mere days ...”

A few of the councilors chuckled while a few looked minutely saddened at the mention of the vast quantum repository of knowledge and history they had long been without for millennia. The remainder retained their looks of concentration as they interfaced with their terminals, electing to not display their emotions at present.

Poignancy vanished and the chuckling gently settled into newfound quietude as a smirk worked its way onto Offensive Bia’s visually flickering muzzle. “It is most pleasing to see that another of your daughters is active once more, and on the same continent no less.”

“Aye! Now, my friends, in regards to our mission.” The table resumed its display of the Milky Way, and the First Councilor grew the expression of a lecturing professor for the moment. “Long ago we saw our shared realms amongst these stars shattered not once but twice with a total scouring in betwixt. Our Forerunner brethren and ourselves left in exile while an internally fracturing equinity remained to uphold empire. Ages past and now we are stewards of matters of succession and reclamation of what was lost; before we can return home to Andromeda, we must ensure that the Mantle has been properly passed. Now on to the the means to that end.”

“Such exposition, as a military metarchy these redundant organic mind-dependant actions amuse me ever so,” Offensive Bias jibed.

Following the First Councilor's lead, the second senior-most member of Asphodel’s council stated with budding enthusiasm in her voice, “The Tree of Harmony has already expressed its approval of what I consider the most straightforward plan.”

“Your lips to our ears,” another councilor said with an encouraging tone.

“We still possess the ingress songs for the majority of the Reclaimer’s cryptums in this system including those on Fenris and contact with the Sixth Legion’s active units can be established conventionally; they still make use of their original neural networking and quantum entanglement. I advocate that we awaken all cryptums and technology shortly and reveal our existence. The Inheritors will expect that we will not explain all of our nature and background on public channels immediately, given their majority wartime status which begets practicality. They have been guided well but without a forceful hand.”

There was a humble nod from the First Councilor as he processed his colleague’s words. “The internal stability of their most prominent powers and their teetering on the brink of Technological Tier Two lends weight to this. Very good. Are there any in this council who are of a different opinion?” None made any gesture to say so and every pair of eyes was affixed patiently on First Councilor and Offensive Bias.

A clear landslide consensus was now apparent to all.

“I always loved decisive conclusions, such thrill!” Offensive Bias enthused, his eyes glittering. “As always, you have my fervent backing. Let us catch the ear of the Capricorns and then proceed to reawaken our long lost compatriots!”

As the council broke into a light applause, the First Councilor flared out his wings and gestured both hands to his assembled colleagues. “Alicorns of Asphodel, the Reclamation has begun!”

Alright … That’s Not Plate Tectonics ...
Fenris, Aurora Continent
Sunday, 27th June 2551 CE Celestial Standard Calendar

Immediately following the conclusion of the prior night’s Grand Galloping Gala, Praetor Leman Russ and his Wolf Guard had been quick to find themselves taking their leave of Equestria and the planet at large to respond to something demanding their immediate attention.

An encrypted transmission on an ancient frequency from an unexpected party had been sent to Leman and the Wolf Lords in advance of what was presently revealing itself to be an en-masse reactivation of ancient technology all over the Solaris system.

Included in another broadcast from the same party, so-called ‘Alicorns of Asphodel’, was a concise explanation for the event, as well as instructions for present powers of the Grand Solarian Concordat to evacuate areas where cities had unknowingly been built atop ancient facilities or their entrances due to the inevitable geological shifts from the reactivation of some surviving installations.

As the news broke and the event unfolded, the journey from Equis to Fenris downstar had been brief but heavily laden with shocked, wary, and excited communication chatter from all over the system. Following up the chatter were the myriad intelligence and military responses from the nearest systems reporting no activity yet from any ‘anomalous sites’ within their colonial jurisdictions.

Portions of Selene not lit by contemporary facilities had been lighting up from ancient installations long hidden under that moon’s lunar craters and dunes. Likewise, the Capricorns’ own moon, Sæmundar, was even more brimming with newfound illumination as its global and normally frigid, stormy and churning ocean became the host of newly arising facilities of varying purpose that were each the size of entire cities.

Fenris was not without its own such occurrence, as was Equis. For Fenris in particular, Leman had elected to preside over the event himself as a new time was dawning where a great deal less restricted knowledge would need to be kept safeguarded.

For a brief moment, Leman inspected the moon on the horizon of the blustery Fenrisian day, its newfound luminosity rendering it a more familiar sight to him than it was in its natural state. He was quick to return his focus to the events unfolding in front of him as he and his Wolf Lords stood on a hill overlooking grassland in their full armour before the towering precipices of the Spines of Fenris which were at present shifting and rumbling with a great and primal-like force.

The craggy spires were shaking chunks of their glaciers free as the geology at the feet of the range in front of the Fangs was sliding open, revealing a vast and brightly glowing artificial opening in the planetary crust kilometers across and around five hundred kilometres deep according to the data provided by the Fangs’ devices. It lead straight down into what was by definition an entirely new world.

Truly, the Aett’s emergence from the ice was being beyond outcompeted as a visual spectacle.

Already the opening was revealing itself to be rife with activity amidst its faintly blue illumination as Fangs sentinels that had long oversaw the maintenance of the vast subterranean facility now set about establishing and constructing from design seeds the common access points for safely reaching the opening and descending it without access to spacecraft or aerial transport.

Russ felt a small smile grace his face as the frames of translocation nodes were erected near his waiting party, knowing what lay in wait for him and the others on the other side of the slipspace portal.

“You have seen the slumbering beasts within our world before, but never have you seen the might of all of them at once. This crusade will see the might of the Fangs rain down once more; and you my brothers and sisters will bring about the end of the Covenant in space and on ground,” Russ stated with a large smirk.

As one they all proceeded through the waiting portal which took them into the inner world that Fenris concealed beneath her frigid, untamed surface and the natural underlying mantle.

A constant stream of familiar sights greeted them when they emerged on the other side. The Fangs’ portal emptied out into an entrance platform meant for holding cargo waiting for transit that doubled as a perfect observation overlook of the interior of Fenris.

In every visible direction not obstructed by one of the many colossal levitating facilities and other large objects could be seen the complex arrangements of continents and seas that covered tens of thousands of kilometres.

Gazing long enough, the eyes would eventually be drawn towards the center where a carefully cut alloy and natural rock sphere coupled with a sophisticated series of condition-regulating stations contained Fenris’ original core, whose light also served as an analogue to a star in addition to the other myriad life support systems contained within the interior.

After a brief survey of their planet’s heart, Leman wasted no time in setting about waking the denizens it contained within.

Iron Shamans and other Fangs from the surface joined them in rapidly growing numbers, interfacing with the resident sentinels for diagnostics and maintenance, forming packs to seek out specific cryptums at once to open, and some even to just briefly take stock of interior world’s overall status. Soon, Ancient ship captains set hoof for the first time in a new era, observing everything and everyone around them each with a temporary attentiveness exceptional even for their kind as their senses adjusted to the outside world from the deep, often meditative sleep of cryptums.

The Ancient captains were much different than the Fangs that moved around for they were not of the exact same flesh and blood that the warriors of the Sixth were. To be a ship captain amongst the Sixth, one could not be inducted into the pack like any other capricorn. They were more akin to a heavily modified capricorn, one that was superior to any non-Fang but did not have the primal instinct and genes that a Fang had pumping through them.

As the reunions were had, the Praetor declared that they would hold a feast there to celebrate the occasion.

Variations of mjord and other drinks from millennia ago were brought to the capricorn captains to complement the vast array and tonnages of food and drink being brought down from the surface as the Fangs held their celebration in the mead hall of the installation’s control center.

It was in the middle of this feast that Leman arose to speak of something that truly gave the reawakened Fangs something to raise their tankards for.

“Brothers and Sisters! Soon our ships will be awakened and our rightful place, marching against our foes will resume!” Russ shouted over the hall, earning thousands of shouts in return, howls erupting into the air. Once the sounds died down enough, Russ continued, “Tonight we feast in preparation for a fresh batch of Blood Claws that will soon join the ranks. We feast in honour of our fellow brothers and sisters that are awakening and are eager to fight once more! We feast for the time has come, to cleanse the galaxy in the name of the Allfather!”

The following howl that erupted proved strong enough to carry out from the control center near the core and towards the nearest portions of habitable surface. A few of the subsystems within range detected the vibrations and misidentified them as ingress songs for the production of inclement weather as a defensive measure. Within minutes of the howls breaking out, fierce lightning storms and blizzards began to spring forth in the affected habitats, while a maritime cyclone even manifested in an entirely oceanic sector.

Wherever the storms proved the least harmful to their surroundings, the Iron Shamans allowed them to rage on until their fuel provided by the biomes ran out, whilst continuing their inspections and various work. Some of the senior-most shamans lead by Elder Tolfdir came before Leman’s table to report on the full status of Fenris’ interior.

Tolfdir’s mechanical eye unfocused from his dataslate as he regarded Leman with a small smile. “Praetor Russ, I’m pleased to say that the shield world is in as good of condition as it was when we had to last seal the majority of it off all those millennia ago. All systems are functioning at full capacity and very few things require the touch of one of our shamans, the automated systems were quite diligent in their care of the Wolf Shield.”

“Excellent!” declared Russ with a howling laugh. He looked around the hall at the ruckus that the Fangs were creating and he smiled a smile only a proud father could have. He turned to his Guard and Wolf Lords. “I do believe it is time to re-introduce ourselves to the vessels that will carry us across the stars!”

Nods and grins were all that he got in return as he made to follow Tolfdir towards the core of the world, where some of the captains would no doubt be waiting.

The journey towards the heart of Fenris was a brief one across suspended stone and hardlight bridges that connected waystations and their platforms to each other and other facilities, with the stone becoming increasingly prominent the closer one got to the slightly noticeable heat of the core.

At the waystation marking the exact halfway mark between the control center and the largest of the shield world’s docking towers that hosted over two dozen mooring masts for massive capital ships, Russ and Tolfdir met two of the ancient Fangs awaiting them, a mare and a stallion.

The duo of captains, like their colleagues, were not clad in full power armour. They instead wore lighter ceramite, adamantium and hardlight suits that consisted of a cuirass, light pauldrons, and armoured boots for their hooves over grey naval uniforms. The uniforms featured yellow trim and epaulettes, all of which was complete by the heavy fur capes they both sported that were emblazoned with the standards and ensigns of the vessels they commanded.

One of them was immediately familiar to Russ. While the female captain’s coat was a darker mauve colouration with ashy blonde hair and blue eyes, the sharp snow-white coat of Leman’s personal ship captain Randagulf the Gale-Hearted, nigh identical to his own, was unmistakeable, as well as his charcoal hair and intelligent green eyes.

Randagulf and his companion gave the Fangs equivalents of salutes, the latter smiling while the former did so as well as letting out a quiet but hearty chuckle of welcome. “Praetor Russ, it has been far too long since I have laid eyes on my most favourite passen … I mean the leader of the Crystal Imperium’s mighty Sixth.”

Russ and Randagulf shared smiling nods, Russ even chuckling slightly. “It has been a while indeed Randagulf, but there was no way I would travel the stars without the very best navigating the Kveldúlfr.”

“Aye, and the very best shall be at her helm once again, regardless of the foe!” The captain then turned to regard an analytical Tolfdir as he followed his fellow captain’s curious gaze. “Ahh Elder Shaman? It is an honour to have you amongst us here.”

“Indeed; it is Elder Shaman Tolfdir specifically, captain. As I reported to Praetor Russ here, the Wolf Shield is in near impeccable condition. You will be pleased to hear that we continue to make all of our creations as built to last as anything of yours and Russ’ time.”

“If you forge it with care, it will care for you in turn,” the mare remarked to nobody in particular.

“Ysolda, was your cryptum within range of a lectern for one of those aphorism codexes left behind by a Wolf Priest?” Randagulf asked the other captain with a grin.

“Unsure, I spent my first several moments out of my cryptum sprinting away from it, the fresh air outside of it is like nothing else I’ve ever … until you realise that it is simply air.” Ysolda gave an experimental flex of her arms to punctuate her words before inclining her head to Tolfdir and saying, “Elder Shaman, you said impeccable condition? It would be a pleasure if you could accompany us to the docking tower. We have yet to run diagnostics on the Kveldúlfr or the others, our armour cannot yet as it is running its own diagnostics and all local sentinels are busy working on the moorings and other naval facilities … anything but the warships themselves.”

“Clearly the captains long for their warships, hardly am I surprised, Captain Ysolda,” Tolfdir said with a lighthearted chuckle to the other three. “But of course, I shall see about rerouting some of the constructor sentinels to focus their diagnostics on the fleet. Of course, the rest must carry on with the docking facilities, preparations are underway as you might expect for redeployment itself, we simply cannot have any form of sustained damage to a vessel on account of an undocking mishap. Praetor Russ, shall we proceed?”

“Let’s us begin the first steps to this Crusade,” Russ stated with a grin only he could match.

All four shared mutual grins as they took matching strides towards the kilometres-tall docking tower. There, at the spire’s apex, the elongated silhouettes of ancient ships of war awaited them.

A Flexing of Olden Wings
Equis Orbit, Elysia Station, Parliament Chamber

Queen Gladys of the Kingdom of Griffonia sighed as she came to rest her haunches on her seat after coming down from a low hover. She looked around, verifying for the umpteenth time that save for herself and her cup of tea, only a small number of Elysia Station’s resident technicians populated the chamber.

The GSC’s parliament had not yet convened again since the Prophetess of Obligation’s diplomatic inquiries. All heads of state, ambassadors, and other dignitaries that frequented the station were busy planetside or elsewhere in the galaxy and thus the entire chamber was dead of all political and diplomatic activity.

A technician’s datapad beeped and chimed as they interfaced with one of the diplomats’ terminals in a desk a few rows down, closer to the central rostrum.

Gladys sighed again. This was hardly the place for both drink and entertainment; the gryphoness shut a manila folder closed with a definitive flick of her wrist, then neatly collected her notes and tea in her talons and set about exiting the library-like atmosphere. She took flight and exited through one of the balcony doorways, emerging into one of the many skywalks that overlooked Elysia’s sprawling, vibrantly lit alabaster concourses. Gladys looked down on her way to the Griffonian embassy.

Like any other day, the station thrummed with activity. Peaked caps and highly decorated uniforms of innumerable colourations mixed in with the crowds and airborne, organised flocks of civilians and bureaucratic officials, contributing urgent-paced strides and stoic wingbeats to the hustle and bustle of wartime affairs in the Concordat.

Each and every person Gladys flew by paused in midair to incline their heads, pay their respects, or exchange pleasantries with a fellow head of state as they recognised either first her distinctly falcon profile, or the crown atop her plumage.

While the Gryphoness was more than happy to reciprocate the kindly exchanges, she was nevertheless dead set on not just her primary destination, but what lay in between the embassy and herself.

Gladys let out a happy squawk to herself as she saw that her favourite drink stall on the whole station was presently open and not yet busy with a deluge of salaried desk-occupiers taking their breaks of the day.

The queen swooped down and readied her nation’s currency she always kept on her person; she was a regular and thus the staff manning the stall was by now no longer shocked when the monarch would always appear.

“Half and half?” one of the clerks inquired, a relatively young minotaur that was part of a staff of an additional unicorn mare, a pegasus stallion, and a human man,

“You know it,” came Gladys’ pleasant reply as she made a gesture that clashed with her genuinely amiable smile via a placement of her folder of notes on the countertop with a flourish that might have conveyed distaste at their contents.

“Lime wedge?”

“Silly question! Always.”

Gladys’ readied drink, only three-fourths full, was passed to her as she remained in a hover. She then dug into her satchel bag and produced a flask from which she began to pour an amber liquid in to fill the remainder of the currently pinkish-coloured tea.

It was then that Gladys finally sat down to enjoy her tea in a more suitable environment to her tastes.

Gladys’ moment of bliss was incredibly short-lived, unfortunately, as several of the major Waypoint screens, all the ones at her stall included, promptly flipped channels to feeds from major news networks.

Reporters of several races sat, amazed, in dazes, or wearing urgent faces in their newsrooms as journalistic staff similarly bustled about in the studios around them. Images and video feeds could be seen alongside them as they delivered their reports in varying degrees of composure based on the veterancy of the anchors in question.

A dull murmuring was now picking up amongst Gladys’ fellow patrons from the report, as well as the rest of the station as far as the queen could tell.

For a few moments, the Queen of Griffonia knew little to think of it as she processed all the sights and information being hastily reported on, but it quickly sharpened in her head and she began a predator-like analysis of the breaking news.

The images and footage being broadcasted across Waypoint were displaying an orbiting view of several locations in the Solaris system, especially Fenris, where the focus of the documentation there was what appeared to be a growing number of massive starships emerging from inside of the Capricorn homeworld.

The revelation of such a surreal technological feat was eliciting more than a few gasps and excited exclamations from the growing audience.

“What in the name of the Boreas is … wow ...” Gladys narrowed her eyes as she tried to assess the vessels as they were in the midst of assuming a kind of naval formation, a staggered line if the queen recalled correctly. Her drink now lay neglected next to her notes.

Whoever was providing one of the footage streams from space was first panning the camera before focusing on the ships themselves. For a brief moment, the dark side of the moon of Fenris, which was officially an uninhabited celestial body save for a research station or two, could be seen lit as if its surface were dappled with massive cities before the emerging fleet returned back into view with a zoomed visual shot.

Gladys did not recognise the designs of the vessels at all as ship after ship was focused on; they were quite unlike most general design approaches for spaceborne warships she had seen in her many years up till now.

“My poor engineers must be drooling if they are seeing this,” Gladys mused out loud.

The minotaur that had given Gladys her drink clinked a glass thoughtfully as he too stared at one of the monitors. “My sister signed on years ago with the Equestrian military, the Imperial Engineering Corps, and taught me a thing or two about ships … and that there is no kind of hull plating style I have ever seen her work with before, let alone the basic styles of those behemoths.”

“Making it all the more astounding,” came Gladys’ reply.

What first came to mind in the monarch’s head upon viewing the foremost ship of the grouping was of something vaguely primitive in design yet still thousands of years ahead of what her own contemporaries could produce. The prow of the warship, like a small but sizeable number of Equestrian and generally GSC ship classes, sported a sizeable ram obviously meant for cleaving right through an opposing vessel amidships.

Unlike their modern counterparts, the ram was also as decorated as it was likely effective. It was engraved with the likeness of a fangs-barred wolf frozen in mid-lunge. No doubt an identical scene also existed on the opposite edge of the ram.

A large rectangular section, the largest portion of the warship, encompassed the stern and possessed the thrusters, unknown engine types, and a symmetrical and intricate collection of spires that no doubt held the bridge or command center. Forward from the bow was the slender, sleek midsection of the ship that connected to a larger rectangular bow that was dwarfed by the stern in comparison, the latter two pieces seemingly almost like the grips of a mace with the stern being its head.

Large runes possibly for designation and naming and other insignias adorned large areas of the hull and silver armour plating in distinctive yellows or as colourless engravings, largest amongst them consisting of a star-bearing phoenix.

By now, the staggered line was holding position in orbit, as if waiting for further instruction from those that commanded it on the planet below.

Having taken her fill of studying the vessels, Gladys finally shifted her focus to the reporting coinciding with their appearances. The media frenzy continued on with no signs of letting up anytime soon as the multiple races reported their stories in a symphony of various languages, many of which the Queen of Griffonia could speak fluently.

“Confirmed reports of unidentified alien technology awakening all over the system … !” one minotaur anchor read off in rapidfire Tayresian. “Governments, militaries, and academic bodies are responding; more on this story as it develops.”

Another, a zebra mare, opened her breaking story with a hearty, “Ave, citizens of the Grand Solarian Concordat and Imperium Roamara alike! Incoming messages indicate that the phenomena currently unfolding across our system is technological in nature. Most prominently, as you can see in supplementals provided, activity is currently centered around Fenris and her moon, as well as our very own Selene. Emperor Arcadius is still pending for comment before Roam’s Senate and GSC Parliament, and reflection of Roam’s brief spacefaring history on the neighboring planet is expected to be one of his highlights.”

“Officials of the House of Winter, one of Fenris’ governing bodies, have stated the military force the craft belong to to be the Fangs of Fenris. All further inquiry as to the full extent of this organisation were met with no further comment, however their stance as allies of the GSC powers was firmly iterated,” a human anchor stated.

Not all of what Gladys heard was journalistic in nature, and proved to be quite eccentric. It was not a surprise to her however, given the present confusion and awe overtaking the public as well as the myriad of Waypoint programs being flipped to by the station’s staff and other users.

“Ooooh giant ships, giant ships that aren’t genocidal maniac ships … how about that, huh?! I could almost cheer at the thought of new friends coming from the inside of Capricorn World, but caution-caution-caution! Now back to our original programming of the hour: Ponyacci and his legendary guide to professional clowning! Cheese Sandwich will join us in the fun after the next break!” The earth pony Pinkie Pie, hosting her variety show Party Time, commented in a mostly singsong voice as one of her popular Waypoint programs played on an adjacent monitor.

“Just breaking: activity continues now with the mysterious appearance of unidentified warships at approximately 11:36 Concordat Universal Time. Military officials and Canterlot’s Royal Academy is a flurry of frenzied activity and impromptu research as its Departments of Astronomy and Xenoarchaeology are amongst the first organisations to issue official reports in the form of an impromptu posting on a Waypoint academic channel,” an Equestrian unicorn stallion reporter stated as he was clearly trying to resist gawking at the very footage he was reporting on.

The Equestrian reporter’s co-anchor, a pegasus mare, then picked up with, “The hasty posting says, ‘Unidentified starships. Giant frakking prows. End of the worlds? Most likely not, as speculation abounds that they are Fangs of Fenris in nature on account of their point of origin from inside, we can confirm inside Planet Fenris. Standby for further postings.’” The mare shifted deftly in her seat as she set down her datapad. “Concordat Parliament is currently being called to assembly once more for deliberation on this phenomena.”

The latter report really caught Gladys’ attention in full as some of her feathers stood up, having expected a relaxed day due to her own court being devoid of pressing matters.

“Well,” the gryphoness mused to herself as she straightened out her crown, “This will be an interesting day.”

‘Vadamee
Urs System, High Charity, Chambers of the Covenant High Council

The Hierarchs Truth and Mercy presided over surrounding stands of San’Shyuum and Sangheili councilors from their dias at the head of a cavernous and towering room.

All around, councilors and other functionaries spoke amongst their ranks in bickering tones. Walls of multihued violet, blue, and purple surrounded a small collection of recovered Forerunner and, if legends were true, Alicorn columns that stood amongst the councilor’s stands as the incessant sounds of rancorous commotion rang off them and reverberated through the whole level of the tower, one of a collection that peered out over the city below.

What lay before the dias of the presently austere Prophetess and much older and angered Prophet was an active holographic projection they had received mere days ago but were just now beginning to appraise after much time spent ensuring the full security of High Charity. It was the clear point of contention in the chambers for all present as Truth in particular listened to the projection with her hand at her chin in deep study.

Xytan ‘Jar Wattinree, the late Imperial Admiral of the Covenant fleet, flickered rapidly due to the damaged state of the recording as he wove a poignant and cryptic narrative from beyond the grave to the agitated theocrats.

“Despite the staggering blow delivered by our foes’ new allies, these capricorns, Primal Halo was found. But much more is there than anticipated. So much more. Massive damage was sustained to it from unknown actions aeons past, and it became immediately obvious why the … the Heretics … had not yet encountered it in their own system for so long. It was not entirely there in normal space. Time itself seemed … off kilter, foreshadowing what my teams and the Huragok found. What follows is not just discovery but what will have to serve as final will and testament.”

“Halo’s majesty, clearly even he was unfit of mind for gazing upon its holy visage in its true glory,” Mercy muttered with venom in his voice, which only served to add more fuel to the fires of the councilors who were now locked in conflict over the commander’s posthumous honouring, and condemnation as an apostate and heretic for his failures.

“Not only did it elude his grasp and prevented a consecration of its sacred icon to commence the start of the Journey, a Hierarch was captured by Heretics and High Charity endangered by his incompetence. What he found is of no matter,” a San’Shyuum councilor declared with comparable bite to Mercy.

“It must be played in full,” a Sangheili insisted with frustration dangerously bordering anger. “That we may properly understand his failure, and of greatest import, what lore he gleaned of our Lords.”

The rancor amped up even further, prompting Mercy to slam a decrepit fist onto the side of his gravity throne. “Quiet with you all!” he growled.

Xytan’s avatar vanished swiftly from view.

It was then that Truth levitated her throne forward to regard the High Council with a serene gaze, raising a hand as she did so towards Mercy to signal him to calm. “It shall not be reviewed here, that I delegate to myself alone. This is but one footnote of the reason we have convened here. The War of Inquisition rages on and we are bereft of Regret’s throne with us today, a certain predecessor similarly missing.”

Mercy shook his head. “Obligation, a heretic in her own right. To that there is no need for further discussion when the course is clear, we must accelerate our exalted efforts and smash and dominate the Heretics everywhere they dwell. Those we placed in bondage as spoils of war to fuel our production of weapons are only so many in number.”

“The course is indeed clear but the way remains long,” Truth replied as they kept the Council’s ears. “This war will continue on but such crude measures will not be called upon when unnecessary. Enter one of our greatest assets.”

“Hierarchs Truth and Mercy, you have summoned me?” came the deep voice of a newly-arrived Sangheili clad in golden armour whose entrance in the company of honour guard had immediately brought the High Council to a new murmur.

“Thel ‘Vadamee, the supreme commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice graces us with his presence this day,” Truth said in greeting, waving a hand to him as the Sangheili knelt briefly. “As said to fairest Mercy, crude tactics of brute force alone will not allow the Covenant to triumph with grace over heathen armies. Yet ostensibly it shall be our primary instrument. As for you, supreme commander …”

“My hierarch?” ‘Vadamee inquired with great expectancy. “My fleet is at the ready for whatever mission we might be assigned, their momentum and morale remain steady.”

There was a nod from the Prophetess. “For years you have lead your charges in some of the most effective and daring acts of holy inquisition against our foes. However, your targets have always been fringes and minor hubs of their military might while the bulk of ours locks them in stalemate,” Truth began.

“Stalemate we must shatter for our continued favour from the Gods as much so as the upkeep of Sangheili honour,” Mercy interjected.

“The bulk of our might I continue to ensure will only grow from its current status, but as stated it shall not triumph alone. You have a greater duty now to rest upon your shoulders, Thel ‘Vadamee.”

“Despite my anticipations I would not be impudent and vocalise my conjecture as to those duties, Prophetess of Truth,” ‘Vadamee told her. “I humbly await your instruction.”

Such forthrightness from the Sangheili commander brought a warming smile to Truth’s face.

“Your quest is as follows,” Truth outlined, “You are to prepare your strategy for full galactic reach whilst we shall feign charges into the Perseus Arm, the very heart of heresy itself. The movements will lure the battle-exhausted humans into believing us to be in retreat, goading them to reveal the path to their homeworld. Your fleet will be bolstered with all hands, vessels, and materiel you shall need.”

“We will adapt, my hierarch.”

“Furthermore, you will retrieve the Prophet of Mercy and the Primal Halo at all cost, while our search for the other Rings continues. Their capital will be temptation itself for conquest with its presently weakened defenses but steel yourself, it is not within our designs, and their newfound allies are fierce and daunting not just by the Imperial Admiral’s reckoning but also by our direct appraisal. When you are successful in the restoration of Regret to his office, you shall then serve alongside all other of equal rank in deploying our newest forces when their preparation is complete and inquisition will be enacted in full. Victory in fulfillment of inquisition and the finding of the Sacred Rings shall be our final acts of faith ere the Journey begins.”

“Gyrations and convolution … Alicorns smile upon us from our humility as we proceed with this momentous undertaking,” Mercy intoned.

‘Vadamee’s mind was already formulating what his next actions would be, almost without conscious thought to ignite the process as he this time balled one of his slender hands into a fist and brought it to his chest. “It will be done, noble Hiearchs. The Imperial Admiral’s failure will be corrected, and I will secure the holy installation apace.”

Ever fickle, the High Council now filled the chamber with praise and cheer as Thel ‘Vadamee paid his final respects to the Hierarchs before taking his leave as the Honour Guard shifted their positions with the adjourning of the Council session at Truth’s declaration.

Awakening
Solaris System, Sæmundar, Unidentified Equatorial Installation

With the Gala still fresh in her mind, Luna had found little time for rest from the celebrations before the system-wide anomalies began and every major government and organisation in the GSC was roused to shock-filled response.

Luna was no less shocked than any other when the events coincided with a broadcast she could pick up from her Waypoint connection. It had been from those identifying themselves as the Asphodel, those that Luna had recalled being hers and Celestia’s mentors from long ago as far as the crown princess could recollect.

“Leaders of the Grand Solarian Concordat, we extend our hands and hooves in friendship and solidarity. We are the Alicorns of Asphodel,” the audio transmission had said. “We have set in motion the final stages of what is called the Reclamation Measure. Powerful technology lies dormant in this system and hundreds more, of the former we are now activating for your immediate usage in the defense of harmony and life in the galaxy. In moments you will receive coordinates to these sites as well as procedures for evacuation and safety in regions where technological activation poses geographic risk to your cities, monuments and installations. Further instruction and context will follow soon in anticipation of the reawakening of custodians that will assist you with the dispensation of this technology and all requisite knowledge.”

Soon after followed a rapid meeting with Celestia, and the gathering of her friends to discuss their own response, a decision was made.

Equestria and its empire would approach with cautious and lukewarm diplomacy, seeking to establish a direct connection with the Asphodel. Meanwhile, Luna would spearhead a small but elite team to investigate a particular location of technological activation that beared a remarkable trait, ahead of a fully-fledged expedition only an hour behind them.

The same signature that Leman Russ’ cryptum had emitted days ago was being replicated in scores on Fenris’ moon. Facilities laden with cryptums in their vast numbers awaited someone to reawaken their occupants; they were almost certainly the ‘custodians’ the Asphodel had mentioned.

On the flight to Sæmundar, Luna witnessed the now confirmed fleet of Praetor Leman held position above their homeworld. The ancient warships were expectant, their crews and complements eagerly awaiting the moment to launch a campaign against their newest enemy, the Covenant.

Now, the mysteries of yet another facility of ancient beings lay in wait for Luna and her company.

“Look, that door ahead! Scans indicate it should be the final barrier between ourselves and the cryptums,” Cortana declared to Luna and her friends as they, an GSC science team, and a detachment of Royal Guard of all four units, Onyx, Lunar, Solar, and Phoenix at the lead of Onyx captain Magic Barrier, treaded their way through ancient halls not disturbed in thousands of years.

“It bears the central glyph of this Imperium we keep hearing about,” Luna replied as she scanned the door with her eyes as well as her magic, horn lit with an analytical spell that probed its surface for clues to what could open it.

It was a bright white crystal material like diamond, the latticework framed by a white alloy with light blue accents like the rest of the installation’s construction. All other architecture seen thus far from orbit, suspended just above the moon’s oceans, followed this same design pattern.

The door furthermore was a vertical rectangle overall, with two inner panels forming transparent but fogged, diamond-shaped latticeworks whose tips pointed towards the center of the door that portrayed the cobalt-cyan glyph holographically.

Cross-reference with what had been seen prior in Fenris’ northern polar region left Luna with doubt no longer that everything she had seen thus far was all connected. It was the same civilisation that had left all these mysteries and marvels behind, the Crystal Imperium. And if the Asphodel’s sudden appearance and activity said anything, it was that they laid near the heart of it all.

“What do you see, Luna?” the Master Chief inquired, staring ahead at the door as she was while the others continued to survey their exotic surroundings and kept watch on their flanks for any possible threat from the unknown.

“Cortana and I are still studying, Chief. It appears to have a most curious locking mechanism.”

“Auditory lock of some kind if I am analysing this from the right angles.” Cortana interjected.

Thus far no hostile automatons or other sources of danger had been seen. Despite this, wartime left many of the martial trade ever wary.

“Trixie does hope you have found a way through by now. It would be an irritating disappointment to venture to this stormy place only to be stalled by a single door …” Trixie’s annoyed look shifted to a chipper smile as a thought came to her mind. “Wait, wait, Trixie forgets that she is a soldier sometimes, and soldiers often carry explosives!”

Luna could all but see Twilight’s look of horror without actually turning around. The Royal Guards with them all shuffled awkwardly in their armour as the majority of them detected the dismay in the air on the spot.

“Trixie?! How could you possibly suggest such a thing?” Twilight shrieked in protest, causing Trixie to roll her eyes. “Everything in this facility is priceless … it could well be our very heritage from before recorded history!”

“Irreplaceable!” one of Twilight’s colleagues bemoaned.

“Absolutely deplorable, Praetorian … have you not read of or seen what the Covenant do to similar sites they find?” another scientist shot out.

“Would it better for you researchers’ dispositions if I added some of my leftover smoke bombs from my previous magical shows to the demolition?” Trixie added with a scoff-laden deadpan.

Twilight appeared to be growing livid. Captain Magic Barrier let out a nicker, the sanctity of the ancient facility clashing with practicality in the mind of the charcoal-coated unicorn whom Luna could not help but draw an uncanny resemblance to Shining Armor.

“Tartarus confound it, I back this only if we have no other option,” Barrier stated with a ponderous tapping of his hoof against the crystalline floor.

Twilight turned to sneer at the guard captain whilst some of the other scientists and scholars grew restless in frustration and started studying the holography adorning some of the corridor walls. “Don’t encourage her, Captain Barrier!”

“I’m not, unless you want me to, Lady Sparkle,” Barrier said with a wink that left Trixie beaming, like a unicorn-shaped imp before turning serious once more. “Don’t worry, Twilight, not all of us here are eager to use military hardware to keep some belligerent sexual tension in check towards a number of certain figures. Coarse jesting aside, we do need to get through this door somehow, Luna doesn’t need to be reminded of that. Not even I condone the wanton destruction of ancient things.”

Barrier’s statement was accompanied by a series of annoyed mumbling from the science team, whilst Trixie seemed to grow pale under her fur as she glowered at him.

“Barrier, Trixie will have you know, that I … er … okay, Trixie is not falling into her own kind of quip-filled traps.”

“All of you, calm, please!” Luna said in even-toned fashion whilst casting a reproachful gaze at Trixie’s less than delicate proposal for ingress into the unexplored rooms ahead of them.

“Sorry, just taking my uneasiness of this place out on Twilight,” Trixie replied without illeism in a frank fashion that was shocking to some of her companions, her exasperation at Magic Barrier’s innuendo having vanished as well.

Luna blinked to hide her surprise at the mare’s sudden shift in mannerism.

“Yeah … now that I think about it, something seems a bit off about this particular section of the … should we be calling them ruins, or no?” Barrier shook his head as he chewed at his lip.

“It’s almost as if … something tragic happened here, like this door was sealed off as part of a defensive move against an intruding outside force,” Twilight mused as she and some of the other unicorns in the corridor seemed to grow increasingly uncomfortable. “Something that was a threat to the cryptums and their occupants. Maybe more”

“Whatever it was, it is long gone if my own magic and senses speak truth to me,” Luna replied as she turned back to the door with a frown. “What you experience now is but their residue: a mere trace of the faintest of echoes.”

“It is definitely long gone,” Cortana concurred. “I am picking up no life signs on the other side of this door. And the cryptums likely block any form of organic signatures from their occupants though I am not entirely sure on that yet. Now about getting inside … apparently the auditory lock and much of the Ancients’ technology in general operates based on … well, musical and verbal operation. Certain tunes, melodies, phrases, and entire songs activate and access things.”

“What tunes could possibly allow for ingress?” Barrier inquired as he rubbed at his horn in apparent discomfort. It seemed almost as if he were about to break into a sweat

“My question exactly,” Twilight said as she passed by the Chief with a smiling nod before roving her eyes across the still access-defiant door.

“Wait … ingress … ingress song!” Luna exclaimed as a dormant section of her mind reawoke.

“I think she just magically found us a way in,” the Chief remarked with his by now signature – to Luna – hint of humour as he added, “Pun intended.”

“Someday, Chief, someday you might be able to stand upon a stage,” Trixie managed to quip through her nervousness.

“Aye, I have … admittedly it frustrates me that I cannot recall as to how I could possibly know it, but … I shall begin anon,” Luna responded to the Chief as she closed her eyes and cut out the stream of alteration magic to her analysis spell.

When Luna opened her eyes again, they began to glow white as she concentrated them on the geometry of the Imperium glyph in the center of the door. Her lips parted and she hummed a seven-note melody, her companions’ jaws falling and eyes widening. The heavenly sounds met the crystal of the door and resonated within them, the notes repeated back to her in a gentle and perhaps poignant chime.

Luna repeated the melody once more with greater force, approaching that of a veteran opera singer. Once more the door replied in kind with the note, chiming the melody in echoes three times with an increasing sense of resolve and solace. The glyph began to see the star and phoenix insignia take form around it in a dazzling holographic display of spreading wings.

In a final repetition of the ancient melody that struck chords in between her first and second vocalisations, Luna got the door to respond with its greatest yet reprise.

The seven-notes chimed with back to back echoes, forming a chorus that lasted for several seconds before the door gave a final affirmative chime that saw it begin to slide open.

As the panels disappeared into the doorjamb, the Crystal Imperium’s insignia held position in the threshold for a few moments before fading out. The phoenix’s vigilant gaze was like a final gesture, one to welcome them inside as rightful visitors of what it contained.

“Fascinating,” Cortana remarked as Luna, joined by Chief and Captain Barrier, formed the trio to spearhead the exploration of the room now open to them.

“These cryptums and their occupants must be very important,” Twilight remarked, her voice laden with wonder for a moment. “Like Russ, their surroundings are quite, umm for a lack of a better word, robust. And judging by this door and my first glimpses guys, this chamber up ahead is quite ornate.”

“‘Tis Perennial splendour from a bygone epoch,” Luna agreed.

The space immediately behind the door was laden with decorative columns, forming a gallery that lead upwards at a gentle slope to what had to have been a rotunda-type substructure.

This facility possessed several of these as viewed from orbit, domes resting upon a white-coloured alloy star-shaped platform approximately one kilometer across that floated just above Sæmundar’s waves.

Accompanying them had been docking locations, an inactive defense perimeter, a myriad of support facilities, control towers, and what could have been a weather station, for the immediate sea surrounding the platform was kept calm and in strict regulation. Despite its ascent from beneath the ocean, the platform like all others that had been seen on the way to it had even been devoid of sedentary marine life on its surfaces.

Everyone ascended the gallery with Luna still in the lead, towards the main body of the cryptum chamber itself.

Just before the cryptums and their main chamber was a smaller antechamber whose contents immediately stopped the entire party in their tracks. Shock manifested on many of the group, even some of the Royal Guards as everyone got a glimpse of what stood between them and the cryptums.

“Twilight … methinks your instincts were indeed true,” Luna ventured, her serene features growing sullen as she took stock of the sight. Many of her compatriots had their ears flattened, and she subsequently joined them.

“Gods … what are they, how long have they been here?” Trixie asked as she cupped her muzzle in an uneasy hoof.

“Overwhelmingly longer than how long it would take me to estimate a window of time through some scans,” Cortana said in a reserved tone.

The antechamber was separated from the rotunda by a towering bureau bearing a mural, stretching from the floor all the way to ceiling where it joined with the nearest rim of the domed ceiling with crenellated and alcoved pillars.

In front of the bureau stood the remains of what appeared to have been a quick but bitter battle. The very sight of the apparent tragedy caused many of the group to ready their weapons on instinct

A bipedal skeletal form, encapsulated in white, silver and blue armour was seated against the middle foot of the mural. Its horn still sat atop its head and the unmistakable remains of its wings sprawled out on either side of it with a tattered cape behind it as it clutched a weapon in one hand and a cube-shaped device in the other. The argent pommel of a sword of some kind could be seen, jutting out from a scabbard that was clasped to the back of the armour’s cuirass horizontally.

Between Luna’s party and the dead alicorn, the bones of her own kind not unrecognisable to her, lay the crumpled forms of what must have been the warrior’s foe.

At least thirty of them were arrayed in a rough arc around the alicorn, with a few more scattered in some far corners and about the floor. Like the fallen warrior they had calcified completely, their quadrupedal equine-like forms seemingly a surreal meld of critically damaged armour and an intrusive layer of chitin the colour of pitch.

A few amongst the forlorn grouping appeared to be entirely equine. Representations of at least the three common types of pony could be seen, possessing no evidence of chitin but whatever coats they’d had having been entirely shorn away by time, only a slightly glimmering film of energy remaining over dessicated skin. Like the alicorn, they gripped similar weapons in their hooves, all frozen in time.

“These look like changelings … “ Captain Barrier stated with alarm as he gazed upon the majority.

“Not any kind of changeling type I have ever seen or read about before, but the standard hallmarks of their race are all there … “ Twilight said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We must leave them for now, the GSC will have plenty of time to study everything on this moon after we are done. Be careful not to step upon them and strive for reverence, for we now know these cryptums to share space with a tomb. Let us learn from them to honour their memory,” Luna said in a gentle tone, her voice as reassuring as she could make it.

Luna lead them gradually around the macabre maze of fallen warriors, before she came to a stop before the alicorn and the mural they had kept their back to in their final moments. Her eyes studied the warrior for a few long seconds before they found themselves moving upwards to gaze upon the mural.

“A bit of brightness despite this … I can now in fact scan the interiors of the cryptums themselves and I can safely say that all occupants are alive and stable should we awaken them at this very moment.” Cortana announced as the timbre of her voice seemed to pick up slightly.

Luna nodded simply as she studied the mural, delaying her response by several moments yet.

What the alicorn and their comrades had had their backs to during their defense of the cryptums was a sight of sheer awe to Luna, for her intuition told her that she was gazing upon her very heritage.

While miniscule portions of it were obscured by scorching that somehow did not harm what was concealed beneath as she brushed the soot and residue off, the princess first noted the vibrantly coloured illustrations of four alicorns forming a rough diamond pattern. Two were in pony form to the left and right, and two in bipedal form at the bottom and top, with all of them stretching their wings outwards and upwards.

A golden halo of light exuded from the surrounding space of the wall the alicorns occupied, like the crepuscular rays of a sun in the midday sky. The bottom-most alicorn had a frail appearance to her, cloaked in a flowing white dress-like garment that stood against her pale skin. Her eyes were violet and her straight mane of hair a two-toned dark and light gray. She was smiling almost bashfully as she held a heart-shaped item aloft in the palms of her hands. Above her, a male alicorn stood bedecked in armour similar to the deceased alicorn in the room yet more ornamented, his lighter gray hair neatly cropped above a set of powerfully-gazing amber green eyes and fine bronze skin. He wielded a longsword that he held aloft in one hand and a set of scales in the other, his legs positioned so that it appeared he was in mid-flight and climbing in elevation.

To the left was another, quite cheerful male alicorn, whose equine fur was vivid pink and their hair a deeper pink, accented by brilliant sapphire eyes. He held aloft what appeared to be a chalice in a foreleg whilst levitating a lute alongside it, and his gaze seemed to suggest brighter days ahead for those who gazed upon him in turn. The fourth alicorn and second pony one was a mare with a bluish grey in coat and possessed a light violet mane. Turquoise eyes with sharp intelligence completed a phlegmatic expression as she chiseling at stone, a pick-like tool in hoof and a weathered block of stone before her.

Luna’s eyes’ appraising journey was not yet over. Despite the vast area of the bureau that the four alicorns took up, more space remained above the primary mural that the ancient artists had not hesitated to fill with more of their work.

Amidst small and obscure scenes of battle, artistry, procreation, discovery, and celebration, at the apex of the bureau laid the most solitary of the scenes.

A single feminine figure stood in full armour from toes to horn, obscuring her features save for hair that flowed and billowed in the air from under her helmet. Oddly, her figure was devoid of any colour, armour included, but the rest of the scene was by far one of the most colourful of all. The warrior stood in between the rising sun to her left and the rising moon to her right.

Luna had to all but tear her eyes away from the mural, lest Cortana go unanswered. “We shall awaken one for now, Cortana. Multiple ones in unison, I think not, for a multitude of reasons.”

“Veering on the side of caution, Your Highness?” Magic Barrier inquired as he continued to deeply frown at the remains.

“Indeed. We know not what states of mind these Ancients will be in, all we have established by the Asphodel is that they are custodian figures of everything presently around us and all materials of the like.”

Master Chief added as he inspected one of the changeling-like beings, “It would be wise in my opinion that we awaken the senior-most member of the group in their cryptums, if we can identify them.”

“Only by eyeballing, I’m afraid. I have no access to any kind of data stream coming from the components of this facility and I haven’t found any access points as of yet, or else I would have hollered,” Cortana established.

“This location is extremely ornate,” Twilight echoed her prior statement. “Hopefully the design schemes of the cryptums follow suit and we can judge based on ornamentation.”

“Let us hope,” Luna agreed with a quick nod. “Come, we shall proceed into the chamber and attempt to locate a leader’s cryptum if possible.”

Luna began to take careful strides around the antechamber mural and into the rotunda beyond.

Long awaiting visitors, the cryptums’ floating forms greeted them with their sights as they numbered two dozen under the domed ceiling that was painted to depict a nighttime canvas of stars and nebulae. Like Russ’ warrior keep down on Fenris, each of the cryptums possessed their own interface terminals for control and monitoring, and each were as perfectly functional as the last even after millennial if visual appraisal told anything.

Immediately, the group began their survey of the room for the most ornate of the cryptums, as sure enough, some were smooth and largely unadorned as Leman’s had been. Many others however possessed such motifs as argent-coloured engravings of unicorn battlemages in mid-spell, unidentified embossed insignias of various stations and organisations, assorted glyphs, and even weather formations, animals, and plants.

A few moments of analysis passed before the Chief was the first to single one out for direct investigation. It was incidentally one that was directly across from the antechamber, and featured the battlemages most prominently atop a filigreed shell. Alongside the cryptum’s unknown insignia, a set of scales and a unicorn’s horn atop a runic shield, was the Imperium phoenix.

A nearly identical one was beside it to its left. Meanwhile, a security station laid out in a desk-like fashion stood just before the cryptum that the Chief was gesturing to. At a glance, the bizarre intruders in the prior age had apparently not reached far enough for that station to have been used as cover in a supposed firefight.

No remains could be found at the station, only more terminals and levitation racks neatly holding unused weaponry. Many of Twilight’s colleagues wasted no time in inspecting the station whilst leaving the cryptums be for the moment.

“I would recommend that one, or the one beside it,” the Spartan II proclaimed, the group already making their way over to it as they followed his gaze.

“This first one,” Luna said simply, without need to ruminate.

“Expecting a friendly but there is the anticipation of potential danger,” Trixie thought out loud as she readied her bright rifle in a neutral position. “Trixie is always ready!”

“Hey, Knight-Errant, can’t win for losing” Captain Barrier said to her with a brow raised, garnering him a huff from the azure mare.

“Cortana, are you ready?” Luna said as she produced the Smart AI in her hoof.

“Go ahead and yank me, Princess,” Cortana confirmed, giving a light but reassuring smile to Luna and the others before turning around to face the cryptum and tilting her head as she eyed it.

Luna proceeded to withdraw Cortana’s data chip from her pack and approached the first of the two unicorn battlemage cryptums. Reacting to her presence, the console’s screens brightened and stood up as they awaited command.

Following the procedure Cortana had taught her well in the past week, the Princess transferred Cortana off the data chip and into the crystal base of the terminal projector with her magic.

“Immediate success! Data is already rushing to me about this facility … quite a bit as expected; processing it for later. Now onto this cryptum.” Cortana reappeared with her arms folded just above the console’s middle of three screens. “Now, the release mechanisms appear ready to be deployed on demand. It should just be a simple pressing of your hoof on the middle display, Luna.”

“Simplicity to command such sophistication, mayhaps it speaks to us about the principles of this facility’s builders,” Luna speculated as she followed Cortana’s instruction.

The console sounded in confirmation as Luna withdrew her hoof, and the light of the cryptum’s inner shell began to shift from an orange to a more neutral blue as it levitated closer to the terminal, which stood just beside where the cryptum would open to deposit its occupant into the outside world.

Ancient alloy resounded as the cryptum unfurled itself and revealed the glowing white interior within. A pony-shaped figure was already making its way out at an unhurried but measured pace, surprising a few onlookers as it seemed as if the occupant had been waiting up till that very moment for release.

Luna and Twilight, joined by Barrier and the Chief formed up to be the first party for the ancient to meet. Trixie meanwhile paid only a few glances to the opened cryptum as she instead elected to study the security station with the Equestrian researchers and scholars. The lab coat and civilian-attired humans, ponies, and gryphons were discussing their immediate findings with each other as they poured over screens they were surprised to find that they could operate.

While Luna and many other sets of eyes observed, what emerged was an unarmoured unicorn mare whose glossy, almost iridescent coat was one Luna immediately recognised with great surprise as one of crystal pony nature.

Light violet fur was topped by a deep purple and lengthy cerise mane styled in a drawn back tie with intricate braiding. The mare was of the same general build as Twilight Sparkle, albeit more slender with a horn adding a few extra centimeters to her height.

Sæmundar’s mysterious resident had her eyes closed as she took her first steps onto the ground outside her cryptum in millennia.

As if awaking from a sleepwalk, the mare opened her cyan eyes and blinked in wonder at her surprised and raptly-attentive observers.

Just as Luna was a moment away from delivering what she hoped to be the most appropriate address to the ancient, the crystal pony flashed them a warm if rather poignancy-tinged smile that brought her to pause. The mare parted her lips to speak.

“You look like … no-no, you are her! And other ponies, humans, you brought Inheritors!” Her voice was soft, with her distinct accent rendering her pronunciation of Equestrian quite melodious. “Princess Luna!”

“I am Luna, yes ...” Luna replied, her voice trailing off as her expectations of a dazed and reticent ancient were evaporated like water on a stove top.

“You are one of the custodians the Asphodel mentioned!” Twilight said as her wonder rendered her voice trembling and her apprehension momentarily dispelled.

“Really? And here Trixie thought the cryptums were actually holding a race of wish-granting fairies,” Trixie quipped as she joined her four friends standing before the released crystal pony.

The ancient unicorn adjusted her stance as she tested her legs and balance, giving the metal floor an experimental tap with a hoof before casting her smile on the others again. “Fairies? Where is my wish?!” Trixie huffed at her as she continued, “And If you wish to consider me as such, a custodian, though my name is Amaranth and it is not my actual title from … before. Princess Luna, may I inquire of you some very random things?”

“But of course,” Luna said as her ears pricked to attention. “Let it be laid plain that we are here before you with rapt attention.”

Amaranth grinned. “What is the conversion rate of hamanune karekaals to crystal sovereigns? Who are the chief gods of the Jiralhanae lunar pantheon? How many Corvas make up an imperial grex? Who was Archon during the construction of Maethrillian? Last one is a trick question! So, can you answer any or all of these?”

Luna could only blink at her as the mention of Jiralhanae and a lunar pantheon were the only elements of Amaranth’s questions that garnered any glimmer of recognition. The look on the alicorn’s face caused Amaranth’s grin to fall and her features turned analytical with a returned hint of poignancy, her ears flattening in the process as she looked around to face the unopened cryptum closest to hers before looking back.

“No memory, blast! The magic must still be wearing off even after all this time, but it can’t last forever,” Amaranth mused. “I’m sure all of you are starving for context. Hopefully in a brief amount of time, we can … wait ... “

Trouble became etched on the ancient’s face, causing Captain Barrier to inquire, “Something amiss, Amaranth? Did you sustain some kind of injury or encounter a problem during … well however long you were in there?”

Amaranth’s eyes darted towards the antechamber before she shook her head and said in a slightly hurried pace, “Luna is here, and I know he is still yet to be awoken from his cryptum. Now, thanks to the connection I was able to maintain to the Imperium’s last surviving data network via my cryptum for the past couple thousands of years, I know Celestia and Praetor Leman’s statuses as well as a general idea of the state of the galaxy. Though … there is one I still need to verify the status of … excuse me for one moment please …”

Turning apologetic, Amaranth proceeded to break from a walk and into a trot towards the entrance. The motion caught a few researchers off guard, but the Royal Guard present watched with scrutiny and curiosity as they assumed watch positions with their guns readied and telescopic spears at their backs or attached to their satchels at the withers.

“Amaranth? What is wrong? Is someone in danger?” Luna asked as she and her three immediate companions hurried after her.

“No, not now fortunately. That was long ago, I … whatever we find in the antechamber will speak for itself.”

A deep frown settled upon Luna as they began to go around the mural wall.

Amaranth’s pace slowed to almost nothing in an instant when she caught sight of the remains from the ancient skirmish. Her eyes fell upon the fallen alicorn the longest as she stood their mournfully.

“Oh admiral … you and your warriors could have gone to your cryptums and left them to the sentinels ... “ she said in a low voice. “I suppose when one’s civilisation is ending, it makes sense to some of us to engage that chaos on our own terms, even if it means it will be one of the last decisions we make.”

“They sacrificed themselves?” the Master Chief asked after a brief but heavy silence fell upon the area.

“Not exactly, as I see that the Elements of Harmony ultimately dealt the fatal blow to the enemy. That cube you see there in Admiral Thanaxes’ hand? It is a durance, containing imprints of their final memories and emotions, which means they were in a state of warriors’ requiem. Willful self-destruction, basically.”

“Yet further evidence of the cost that vengeance carries,” Luna mused. “They chose valiant ends, hopefully it was a decision they were at peace with.”

“I’m going to access the durance. I want to see, please,” Amaranth stated as she carefully approached Thanaxes’ skeletal form.

“You need not ask, most definitely not!” Twilight replied as they watched her slowly free the runic silver cube from the alicorn’s grasp. “We actually hope we didn’t desecrate something without knowing … “

“Don’t worry. Despite this, this place is no tomb, nor must I allow it to be,” Amaranth said with a small smile to everyone before activating the durance with a hoof after having levitated it over to her. Her gaze was neutral as she stated, “It’s a place meant to be one of the emergence points for the dawn of a golden age, a milestone on the road to attaining the Mantle of Responsibility. And your looks, Inheritors, yes … it will be explained as soon as we are all awoken and have been given time to recuperate. Imagine my hunger.”

With the activation of the durance, a holographic scene in full colour but of flickering quality unfolded into being around and above the macabre maze that covered the floor at present.

Admiral Thanaxes, olive-skinned, dark-haired and with violet eyes narrowed in concentration, could be seen standing in front of his warriors, presumably also the sailors of unknown warships. They were frozen in time as the admiral held out the cube, mouth open and likely reciting a ceremonial line as the rest stood bipedal with their forelegs resting on hardlight shields in a dignified posture while others held their weapons high just as stiffly postured.

Amaranth interacted with the durance cube again and the scene shifted to an animated capture of what had unfolded following the ceremony, though it was devoid of sound. The Imperium soldiers were arrayed in a wedge formation with Thanaxes at its head in the center. Their weapons were shown to be beam-based and precise, whilst others fired the beam in heavier, short bursts such as the pistol-like weapon the admiral brandished.

These weapons were of great note to some of Twilight’s present colleagues, while more further were scrutinising every last detail they could from the durance’s projections.

Bolts of plasma from their unseen foe flew through the air past them, a few of them striking and felling two pony warriors of the formation before the entire rank drew swords of hardlight or plasma and rushed forward on either two or all fours. Thanaxes was pointing the tip of his sword forwards at their targets before he retrieved his scabbard and put the blade back in its place then both at his back. The final element of the projection consisted of the admiral readying a spell in his free hand as he wielded his pistol once again.

The spell was let loose into the antechamber of yore before the recording had ceased completely.

There was a quick and quiet hum from Amaranth. “Judging by size and latency of this durance … their actual consciousnesses and genetic structures may in fact be within it. If so, we can partially restore them later into Promethean constructs or some other platform if they so desire, as we will be hard-pressed to find the alicorn technology necessary for a full physical reconstruction any time soon.”

“You mean the Crystal Imperium was not capable of such feats?” Twilight conjectured with disbelief.

“While it is true we were capable of things that could seem godlike even to people of your present day and age, alicorn technology designed to restructure an organic being’s consciousness back to a biological state was ancient even when the Imperium was young. It was mostly lost to time and the alicorns of the late Imperium by that point had forgotten how to even reproduce it.”

“We shall arrange to have accommodations provided for you and your compatriots as we awake them,” Luna announced to Ameranth as she began looking over the remains a second time. “Is there any specific way we should handle the deceased? Is there a kind of rite that must be performed?”

Ameranth shook her head after giving Luna a grateful smile. “After their requiem and us playing back that durance, I think we pretty much covered all necessary ground. Those weapons in the security station? I will use the embershard rifles to physically lay them to rest, one by one. Not a fun task obviously but it has to be done. It was what was making you, my fellow unicorns and magic users all, so full of unrest. Puppets of the Nightmare Forces often give off a negative aura even long after death.”

“Should we delay the opening of the other cryptums then, you think?” Twilight wondered as she looked between Amaranth and the cryptum chamber repeatedly.

“Not by much, my work will take only a few moments once I have my materials gathered. After that I hope to eat and then … find where my husband’s Exarchate stashed my armour and personal effects, assuming there even was time to do so.”

“Very well,” Luna stated with a nod. “I shall direct most of my companions here to explore the facility as they see fit until we are ready for opening the cryptums, your defenses were all inactive by the time we arrived so there should be no threats to personnel or materiel.”

“By all means … fellow Reclaimer!” Amaranth replied with a smile. “As Inheritors it is technically their birthright to do so anyhow. By all means completely, but oh, Luna?”

Luna quirked an eyebrow in question. “Hmm?”

“Helping to crush this meddlesome ‘Covenant’ I have read about on the Cathedral Network is going to be a much needed new highlight of my long, long life.”