Marcus looked around him. He had done it. He had killed Celestia.

He walked out onto the balcony. Wait, wasn’t he just in the throne room? There was no balcony there. But for some reason, that didn’t feel very important right now. He looked out, and saw masses of people standing outside, cheering him on. There was a tap on his shoulder, and Marcus spun around, coming face to face with the president.

He smiled. Shook hands with Marcus. Congratulated him.

What was the president of the United States of America doing here? In the White House?

In the White House?

Marcus wildly looked around. Everything was laid out exactly the same as it was the last time he had been here. Before the attack, of course.

He rushed outside. Looked at the civilians. They were shouting his name. Celebrating his victory. But they sounded so…robotic.

He rushed out of the room he was in, went through the hallways. Everything passed by in a blur, and he reached the exit far sooner than he expected. But there were more pressing matters at hand.

Marcus opened the doors and stepped outside. There were people everywhere, as far as he could see. Everyone had smiles on their faces, but they seemed almost forced. He pushed his way through the wall of guards that was blocking his view of the outside.

Everybody’s eyes were glazed over. They were just mindless drones, programmed to hail him, the almighty.

He pushed his way through the crowd, trying to escape the nonsense. Hands grabbed at his armor, feet trampling his royal cape. Marcus struggled wildly through the crowd, when he heard a sound he had heard but a few minutes ago.

The sound of a crown hitting the floor.

It was picked up, kissed, passed back to him by a sea of waving arms. He picked it up in shock.

It was Celestia’s tiara.

He threw it from him as far as he could, then ran blindly through the packed labyrinth of bodies, screams and gratitude alike reaching his ears. He only stopped when he ran into a tiny, fragile woman, one he should have been able to easily knock over.

Marcus stared in shock. Absolute silence filled the empty field.

She was dressed in a white shirt and a green hoodie, with amber-colored pants and a hair clip shaped like a lyre stuck in her blond hair. She just stood there, staring at him, smiling at him.

No, she wasn’t. She was just smiling. Staring past him.

Lyra.

No, Lyra.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

Marcus clutched his head in agony as voices filled his mind. Some screaming, some crying, some content. But they all echoed the same damning words.

I’m so happy that now I’m a human.

How could this be? The president did this? Humanity did this, while he was gone?

The president cleared his throat behind Marcus. “As you can see, the potion has worked wonderfully. 99% of Equestria has been cleansed. Marcus could only gape in horror as he looked at his surroundings again, this time soaking in as much detail as he could.

The “White House” was but a mere mockery of the real thing. There were no historic monuments anywhere in sight.

No, there was one.

A statue of Marcus in flowing robes.

Another of him in full battle gear.

A whole garden with everything featuring his face on it.

Marcus fell to his knees. How could this be? Was this truly the future of Equestria? This was what happened when he did the Elements’ dirty work for them?

The president looked at him, concern etched on his face. Or was it amusement? “Are you alright?”

Marcus slowly got back on his feet. “Yeah, I’m…yeah, I’m fine.”

The president nodded his approval. “Good. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to Our Glorious Savior of Humanity, now would we?”

The sudden venom in his voice hit Marcus like a slap. How dare he speak to his king that way?

No. No, he wasn’t that monster. He wouldn’t be. He couldn’t be.

Upon seeing the look of displeasure on Marcus’s face, the president immediately tried for a smile, but it was so fake it seemed more like a grimace.

Studying the president’s face, Marcus noticed a small red dot on his forehead. Almost like a laser dot.

Laser dot. Laser. Laser sight.

“GET DOWN!” Marcus bellowed as he tackled the president to the ground, covering up as much of his body as possible.

The president chuckled mirthlessly. “Yes, I know, there’s a sniper drone waiting to kill me on your command, in case I show any sign of rebellion. Did you think I was that naïve? I knew from the very start you were suspicious of me, since I was one of the first ones to speak out against the Conversion Bureaus.”

“No…”

“Yes, now you see. Now you are afraid, because you know that we know. We will always defy you.” The president suddenly grabbed ahold of the back of Marcus’s belt and ripped something off.

“No…it can’t be…we…I…”

“We wanted you to stop. We can’t force anybody to do or be anything. Except maybe be a Christian.” He gave a short cough of laughter. “Man, were we corrupt back then.”

“But you…you roped the public in. They started rioting, forcing the serum you had a crack team of scientists develop into the natives’ veins. To turn them into us. The master race. The perfect race.”

“No,” Marcus whispered, almost pleading. “No, not me…not humanity…no...it was Celestia, it was Celestia the whole time! She turned humans into ponies.”

“Celestia was the figurehead of our rebellion. But I guess she can’t be anymore, now that you killed her.” The president locked eyes with Marcus. “But a life for a life is fair enough, isn’t it? Celestia killed that traitor Luna, but she died in return. Now you have to die, and me…” The president brought the object into Marcus’s view. A small silver cylinder, same as the rest on his belt, with a tiny bump of a button on the top. “Well, if you win, then I won’t have much to do, now will I?”

The president pushed the button.

A shot rang out, and Marcus felt an incredible pain rip through his abdomen as the president’s head exploded underneath him.

He staggered back up for a second, but then fell to his knees once again. He looked up at the sky, but no sun greeted him. There was only a moon. A moon with a face on it, almost like a horse’s head.

Was the face’s eye looking at him? With…pity? Sorrow? Pain? Was its mouth moving, trying to say something, to say I’m sorry, to say wake up, to say wake up, to say WAKE UP, to say WAKE UP—

Marcus awoke with a start, gasping for air as he frantically looked around him. He was still on the ground, in the cave with a lake that he found. He frowned as he remembered little snippets of his nightmare. He couldn’t help but feel like there was something important aabout the moon.

Yes! There was a moon at the end of his dream! And it was…talking to him?

Wait…horse…moon…Mare in the Moon…talking…

Princess Luna had infiltrated his mind.

“DAMN IT!” Marcus slammed a fist into the ground. Those vile sisters…

Was Luna sided with Celestia in the past? He couldn’t remember, he had seen her so long ago, and for such a short time…

But if she truly was sided against Celestia, then she wouldn’t invade the inner sanctum of his mind, now would she? She was the princess of dreams, so she obviously knew how sacred a mind was.

No, he wouldn’t let her see any more dreams. He wouldn’t let her steal this away from him.

He had enough dreams stolen the day Celestia came.

Author's Notes:

So, after a quick write from about 8:30 PM to 10:48 PM, this is what I have cranked out. Have fun with my depressing depression relief. You know, like stress relief, but less violent and more weird because it's depression relief.

Also, as of the release date (1/31/14), this story is EXACTLY 7,000 words long! Yay! I have no life!
Oh, what a momentous day. It's also the end of the month, the day before the start of the Born of the Gods prerelease, and Chinese New Year (It's the year of the horse/brony)!