Chapter Thirteen: To Endure And Sacrifice, Part I
~BlackRoseRaven

Celestia pushed upwards through the castle, refusing to fall behind, refusing to slow down. Splinthoof ran on one side of her, and Sally and Whisper the other, as an army of Royal Guard marched in their wake. Sally was terrified, but determined, and Whisper was bruised and hurt... but her eyes brimmed with both frustration and dedication. One way or another, she was going to help put a stop to this, whether Datura liked it or not.

Ponies stumbled out of their way, staring in shock as Celestia led her own army through her own castle. Her expression was grim, and her eyes were cold, and every step hurt... but that pain was a reminder of Terrance's betrayal, and her own foolishness. And every step was a warning of what Terrance was going to do if he somehow took control of the rift machine: somehow, she was sure that the invulnerable alicorn they had encountered was only a prelude of things to come.

Celestia flicked her horn sharply forwards as they reached the double doors leading into the research tower, nearly blowing them off their hinges before her eyes narrowed and she came to a halt in front of the archway, as a familiar stallion smiled contritely at her from inside, flanked on either side by Avatars with advanced weaponry and heavy black and red armor. “Hello, Celestia.”

“What is the meaning of this, Terrance? What are you trying to do?” Celestia asked sharply, leaning forwards and glaring at him. “You are threatening my nation, a nation that invited you in, gave you home and shelter and comfort! You put your own friend in danger, and Datura...”

“Sacrificed himself, did he? What a surprise. He's always had a martyr complex... it would have been nice if he could have just died when I sent those assassins after him, though, or if he'd gone and given himself up at Canon Camp, and saved us all this trouble.” Terrance said in a bored voice, polishing a hoof against a suit jacket, and then he smiled suddenly and added pleasantly: “And you're acting out of character, Celestia. I have on good authority that you should always be polite, with a faint refinement. Your voice isn't suited to anger. More... disapproval. You're a mother-figured, ultimately, with a faint hint of playfulness.”

Celestia looked for a few moments at Terrance, and then she slowly narrowed her eyes before she calmly straightened and said softly: “You're right, Terrance. Excuse me, for forgetting myself in front of all these Avatars. Allow me to rephrase my words.”

Celestia took a calm breath, then she smiled and said in a pleasant voice: “You seem to have mistaken me for someone incapable of anger, but what you fail to recognize is that I am not some static cartoon character. I am the ruler of a nation that has given generously to you for a century now, and I am a mare who has sat and watched – patiently, but tiredly – as you and yours continue to abuse every little gift I give you.

“So I'll phrase it so you and your little friends can understand, my little Avatar: pull your head out of your ass and get the fuck out of my way, or I will not hesitate to kill you.” Celestia became cold as she took a step forwards, saying icily: “I'm just an animal, after all, isn't that right? You Avatars are 'morally superior.' You brought us 'gifts' of technology, and taught us 'stupid ponies' how to harness them, 'evolved' our culture, and showed us all how to kill. But what you don't seem to understand is that unlike the sugary-sweet world you seem to imagine we live in, we have always been very good when it comes to dealing with scum that threatens us, inside or outside of our borders.”

Terrance was leaning back slightly, looking perturbed... but then he only clicked his tongue, even as the Avatar guards around him shifted nervously. “Oh, Celestia. That's so disappointing. Trying to talk all tough, to act like you're so strong and callous... that's not impressive at all, though. I think that's... very sad, as a matter of fact. Tut-tut.”

He paused, then added pleasantly as he rose a hoof: “And besides...” His hoof reached back, then pushed through his own body with only the faintest distortion, and Celestia cursed. “I'm not even really here. So my suggestion is this: we discuss this, civilly, and no one has to get hurt.”

“Avatars!” Celestia said sharply, and the guards on either side of the illusion both flinched visibly, looking uncertainly at the Princess of the Sun: “I order you to lay down arms and surrender immediately, or else I will have no choice but-”

“Oh, that was not wise, Celestia.” interrupted Terrance in a disapproving voice, and then the projection of the stallion held up a hoof... and Celestia's eyes widened in horror as snarling wolves that boiled and burned like they were made of liquid shadow appeared, growling furiously as their glowing red eyes glared hatefully into her. “My machine is still incomplete, but even at its base operating capacity... it's still more than powerful enough for me to create a few Figments. Are you willing to put your Trueborn at risk, against my armies of Avatars and imagined horrors? Or are we going to calmly discuss how you are going to become a figurehead, Celestia, and we're going to discuss how Canon Camp is going to take over all of Equestria... and you ponies and all these Avatars are going to learn to behave properly, in perpetual paradise? Doesn't that sound better, for everyone?”

Celestia trembled for a moment, and then Splinthoof stepped forwards and said fearlessly: “You give the order, ma'am, and we're all with you.”

“You're... you're insane!” Sally shouted, trembling as she stared with disbelief at Terrance, who only gave her a disinterested look. “This isn't our world!”

“It is now.” Terrance said calmly, brushing slowly at the lapel of his suit and making the illusion ripple. “I, for one, will not return quietly and willingly to that cesspit of a planet we came from. If you disagree with me so vehemently, though, you are more than free to leave my nation at any time. In fact, my soldiers will be more than happy to escort you out.”

Terrance held up a hoof, and then he said calmly: “Kill them all.”

The black wolves roared as the Avatar soldiers hesitated, and it gave Celestia the moment she needed to snap her horn forwards and irradiate the room beyond with golden light, sending up shouts and yells and howls from the creatures within before Celestia shouted, in a mix of desperation and fury: “Go, everyone! We have to stop Terrance!”

“How disappointing. I'll be waiting for you, Celestia, on the roof of the tower!” Terrance mocked over the roars of the Royal Guard and the surging of hooves. Then he faded out with a laugh, as Celestia plowed into the ranks of ponies she had once trusted, once given everything to, with anger and disappointment and sorrow in her eyes...

And Sally, Splinthoof, and Whisper followed, united under one cause for different reasons, but all ready to give everything they had to protect a nation that had given too much, too fast, to people who had taken more than they had perhaps ever deserved.

Datura sat in darkness, breathing quietly in and out. He wasn't quite alive, but he wasn't quite dead, either: he was caught in limbo. And limbo was dark, but beautiful, full of galaxies and stars that he was able to watch swirl by, from his comfortable seat here on the floor.

There was no pain and no pleasure: it was wonderful. He was just... calm, and quiet. He had lingering regrets, but he thought even those would fade in time, as he smiled briefly up into the stars... then frowned curiously as the sound of hoofsteps filled his ears.

He glanced over his shoulder... and then softened, watching silently as a mare approached. She looked precisely like Princess Luna, with sapphire coat and a mane that flowed like ephemeral starlight, unadorned with any scraps of pointless metal... but to him, she was someone completely different. He could see it in her eyes...

He looked back ahead as she sat beside him, the two resting in silence for a little while before the mare chuckled quietly, then reached up and touched her own breast, saying softly: “It's funny. Me, looking like this to you.”

“Well, I didn't realize I was writing her as you until... until I was too deep in the story. I never realized... I was just writing all the adventures we never got to have together.” Datura said softly, and then he smiled faintly and closed his eyes. “No, even simpler than that. I wrote her as the most amazing, heroic person I could think of... and it was stupid of me not to realize... that was you.”

The mare smiled at him, and he looked over at her silently before his eyes flicked downwards, and he whispered: “I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to be.” Not Luna reassured him quietly, reaching up and touching his shoulder gently, and the stallion reached up as his hoof snapped apart into a claw, covering her hoof tightly, his body trembling at the contact.

Again, the silence played out between them, until Datura relaxed, and the mare's hoof slipped gently upwards until it touched his face, Datura smiling faintly as he allowed his eyes to slip closed. “I wrote you a story, the other day. But every time I do, we always seem to die, side-by-side, together... and then we come back. We overcome death, you and I, every single time...”

“Just like we always have.” Not Luna said easily, and Datura laughed and shook his head, smiling again over at her as she smiled back; so radiant, so beautiful, so... brave. So much braver than him. “I'm still here, aren't I?”

“Yes...” Datura smiled faintly, then he glanced down before saying softly: “But I... I didn't die with you.”

“That's not what I see.” she replied quietly, reaching out and gently pushing his chin up, and the two looked at each other silently for a few moments before she gently punched him in the shoulder, saying in a firmer voice: “But come on. You don't get to give up just yet. It's time for you to live again, and I'll be right there beside you, every single step.”

“In my heart?” Datura asked dryly, and then he winced when she reached up and smacked him firmly, rubbing at his cheek... but relishing that contact. Whether it was madness or memory or... or something else... “I... need you. You're... you've always been my Valkyrie.”

Not Luna smiled at this, and then she said softly: “I like that nickname for me. But I don't like the one you went and gave yourself. You're not a monster. Monsters don't care about other people.”

Datura shifted a bit, and then the mare added, rubbing a hoof along his back slowly: “And hey. You treat those voices in your head as plenty real. You talk to them more than you talk to me. So why is it that you treat me like some second-class delusion while your lame hallucinations get all the respect?”

“Alright, alright.” Datura laughed a little despite himself, shaking his head briefly before he gave a faint smile to the mare, nodding to her slowly. “I... I do talk to you, though. Sometimes I even hear you talk back, or... maybe just talking to you is enough to remind me what you'd always say. How you'd always... push me, or remind me that things weren't so bad, or just...”

Not Luna slapped the back of his head, and Datura flinched a bit... then smiled a little again and dropped his head forwards, murmuring: “Yeah. Like that.”

She looked at him, and he gazed back at her silently before he lowered his head and whispered: “I don't want to live anymore. I don't want to live without you. It's too hard: there's so many voices in my head, and everything about me is upside down: I've spent so long trapped in a broken body that pain has become pleasure to me, or an illusion, or just fuel for... for all that anger and hate inside me. I don't want... this world to end. I want to live here forever. I don't have a home to return to, or people who love me. I don't have a family. I've ruined every friendship I've ever made. There's nothing for me, anywhere.”

“Stop it.” Not Luna said firmly, and Datura dropped his head before she reached up and took his face gently, tilting his head back and meeting his eyes. “You were never a coward. You'd complain about the stupidest, silliest things. You'd whine about... dying in a video game or act like it was the end of the world when you screwed up some presentation or stubbed your damn toe. But when you actually had real problems, when you were... thrown out on the streets, or when you started getting sick, you'd just smile and act like it didn't matter. You'd never tell a soul.

“You're not alone. You will never be alone, because I will always be with you, and you have at least one person waiting for you, whether you like it or not, you selfish son of a bitch.” Not Luna continued quietly, reaching up and shoving her hoof against his chest. “And it would disappoint me to see you live through everything else, then give up here. What about your new friends? Are you going to turn your back on them? Even more, are you going to let Terrance of all people beat you?”

Datura grimaced slightly at this, and Not Luna nodded firmly, saying softly: “I didn't think so. I want you to pick yourself up, to go out there, and to kick ass. You are the most creative, the most enduring, and the most sadistic person I've ever known. You really want to prove to people that darkness, that evil, is part of a balance, can be used to do the right thing? Then go out there, and prove it. You take all those broken parts of you, and you make them cooperate, and you bring that bastard to his knees. You save your friends, because you and I both know that whatever he's got planned is a whole lot worse than Celestia pressing the reset button. And I'll be with you, the whole time, until you get home.”

“And I'll come visit you. I promise.” Datura said quietly, breathing a little harder before he nodded quickly, then looked up into her eyes. He leaned forwards, but the mare smiled faintly, slipping a hoof between them and catching his lips, holding him back for a moment.

“Remember... you make your choice, and then you don't turn back. No giving up halfway through.” said the mare quietly, and Datura smiled briefly before he nodded quickly. Then her hoof slipped down to his shoulder, and she pulled him in as he leaned forwards, eyes closing and mouths meeting in a silent kiss as a black tear ran down Datura's cheek.

His forelegs reached up to embrace her, and for a moment, he pulled her close... and then his limbs squeezed through her, and she vanished with a soft, final breath, the stallion staggering forwards and barely catching himself on his claws as he looked back and forth, trembling. And as he gazed around, sound filled in, and pain filled his mind, and there were suddenly a thousand screaming voices that made him grind his teeth together and clench his eyes shut...

At least, until he realized that not all those voices were in his head.

Datura looked up in shock as he realized he was somehow standing in one of the upper halls of the castle now: he must have been hallucinating while his body dragged him towards his goal. It looked like one way or another, he was determined to finish this, even if he felt so sore, so weak...

But he had so much more than just pain powering him now, and the scarred stallion gritted his teeth before he started forwards... then twitched in surprise as a voice at his side said warmly: “That's right! For everyone else, never for ourselves, we must always do what is right!”

Datura looked to his right, blinking in surprise as he stared at another version of himself... but smaller, younger-looking, without a scar or blemish or claw. His mane was well-kept, his eyes were normal, he seemed so... innocent, and determined...

“Kill them all. Feast on them. So much pain... look at them suffering, it's wonderful!” said a voice to the left, and Datura gritted his teeth as he looked to the other side and saw a hideous, warped version of himself, his mane jagged and twisted, his body burning with a malicious, dark essence, his eyes nothing but hellish black spotlights with tiny, grim glints of white-hot hatred at their center. He had gnarled talons and horns instead of ears, grinning with vicious fangs as he said hungrily: “Destroy them! Destroy them all!”

“It doesn't matter what you do.” came a cold, empty voice from behind the scarred stallion, and this one, Datura didn't dare to look back at, dropping his head forwards as he clenched his eyes shut... but he could still hear the voice of the grim and callous follower. The stallion, he knew, who would look just like him, but with dead and hollow eyes... “They'll forget you. They'll all abandon you. Every single one of them, just like always. And if they don't, it'll be worse, because then you know you'll make a mistake. You'll drive them away. No mistake you ever make, is ever forgiven. You are weak. You are a failure. You are poison. You will craft your own destruction.”

“Forget everything else, don't turn back; our life may be worthless, but we can still help other people! We have to help everyone, to give our life meaning!” pleaded self-destructive good side: the giver, the ever-charitable, the part of him that had to give to everyone, that had to be there for others to feel like he had meaning, that had to protect and was naive and foolish and a Pariah...

“All that matters is power! Power and strength! Rape them, kill them, everything belongs to you, you only have to reach out and take it!” roared the dark part of him: the part that knew no boundaries, was animal and vicious and savage, was driven purely by hatred and his endless hungers and all those desires he strove to keep under lock and key, but his Id always fought to release in the most primal, cruelest form it could...

“Nothing matters. Not you, them, or anything else. So why bother? You're less than worthless... you are a weight. You ruin what you touch. If you've ever succeeded in making someone happy, it's only so you could make them even more miserable later on.” the nihilistic, empty part of him said, the part of him that was nothing more than a starving, broken Crow, here to feast on the carrion of his soul. “Dreams don't come true. Ambitions can never be achieved. Hope... is a lie that stems from weakness...”

Datura stumbled a bit as he looked ahead, breathing hard as his eyes darted back and forth. He could hear them, see them clearer than he could the rest of reality around him, and the scarred stallion gritted his teeth as he felt madness beginning to creep through his mind. The further it spread, the more his emotions went wild, the more the yelling and the screaming made him want to curl up in a corner or lash out like an animal at the blurry, faceless ponies darting by...

He couldn't drown them out, any more than he could focus through what they were demanding: sooner, rather than later, he knew he was going to lash out. He was going to grab whoever was unfortunate enough to stray too close to him and-

“Help them! You have to help them!”

“Kill them! Devour them!”

“Just abandon them... like they have abandoned you...”

Datura slammed his claws into the ground in front of him, clenching his eyes shut, but they wouldn't shut up, they wouldn't shut up, they wouldn't shut up! He grabbed at his face, snarling in fury, his whole body shaking-

“You're better than this.” said a soft but firm voice, and Datura felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing into him, and warmth flooded through his entire body before the voice, his Valkyrie, ordered sharply: “Now control it!”

“I am... not just one broken piece... I am the sum of all my broken parts...” Datura gritted his teeth as he forced himself to straighten, even as the voices continued to clamor, to plead, to shout, to whisper through his mind before the scarred stallion suddenly turned to look at Pariah, snapping: “Do you want to protect everyone?”

That good part of him stared for a moment in surprise, then it nodded quickly before Datura said quietly: “We can only help them... if we help us, first. If we go in weak, unprepared... we'll just get in the way.”

Pariah shifted uneasily, and Datura turned quickly towards Id, adding in a sharper voice: “You want to fight? You want to kill? There's a challenge waiting for us ahead, but like I just told him, we have to work together. And not just us: we have to protect the ponies who need protecting... but it'll make it even easier to pick out which ones we need to deal with. The best part about guarding a flock of sheep is that you always have more little wolves coming to try and steal away the meat.”

“But we'll get them to them first. They'll be our meal...” hissed Id eagerly, licking his lips hungrily. “I don't care, as long as I get to destroy!”

“And power. True power.” Datura promised, before he turned around and looked steadily at the last reflection of himself, as Crow only looked silently at the ground, before Datura said quietly: “We can't disappoint our Valkyrie.”

“Shut up. I'm not going to fall for that old trick.” murmured Crow, who shook his head bitterly before he whispered: “We turned her into a joke. Look at what we did... taking tragedy, and making... a mockery of it...”

“No. We remembered her, in the only and the best way we could. We shared her, with the entire world.” Datura replied quietly, bowing his head silently forwards and closing his eyes. “Even you know that. Even you couldn't convince yourself we ever did anything to dishonor her, to take away her value. We all love her... and that's more powerful than the pain, the hate, and everything else. For her, we'd throw away the world... just like for her... we'll protect it, too.”

Crow looked away for a moment, and then he whispered: “But it's hopeless. We can't do anything... we can't save anyone...”

“Maybe not. But we can still try.” Datura said softly, and then he took a step towards Crow before holding up one of his claws silently. “I need all of you with me. I need balance. I need lucidity. We need to work together... for power, for honor, for the right reasons. Help me.”

There was silence for a few moments, and then Crow reached hesitantly up before taking Datura's claw in one of his own cracked, bloody hooves: and a moment later, Crow simply vanished as a cold blue aura glowed across Datura's body, wiping away his pain and tiredness and replacing it with a serious, unflinching fortitude.

Datura looked down at his claw, flexing it slowly before a hoof and talon settled on his shoulder from either side, Pariah saying hesitantly: “You... you have to save everyone you can.”

“And you have to destroy all those who would stand in your way.” Id added, then he grinned, licking his lips slowly. “But we can all agree on one thing: you don't have to kill. Killing... is far too easy. We hunger for challenge.”

“Protect Whisper. Protect Sally. You promised.” Pariah smiled, and then both he and Id vanished, and the scarred stallion gritted his teeth as he felt strength pulse through his body, muscles bulging as his mind filled with clarity and lucidity.

He rose his head, and he heard the voices... but inside his mind, there was perfect, ready silence. For the first time he could remember, there were no arguing voices, no moral debates, no screaming, no laughter, nothing but his own voice, his own thoughts, his own focus.

He looked ahead, through the surging crowd of ponies running in all directions, and then Datura flexed before he launched himself forwards. And as he ran, he could feel that he wasn't alone: he could feel her presence there beside him, urging him on, steadying him, keeping him strong even though his body felt almost alien and numb.

But nothing was going to get in his way now, as he ran through the corridors of Canterlot ever higher and higher, before gritting his teeth as he tore through the doors that led to where Terrance's research tower had always stood and found dead and wounded Royal Guard.

It looked like an entire army had moved through here... and suffered heavy losses doing so. And the stallion could hear fighting above, too, the stallion swearing under his breath before he hurried forwards, grimacing as he looked back and forth and felt the psychic residue of death and saw the broken piles of equipment and armor, the stains of blood and smears against the ground that had been caused by Avatars disintegrating. Knowing Terrance, he would have a whole army of them... but what the hell was he up to?

Whatever it was, it seemed like every soldier in Canterlot was up here: he was surprised to find it wasn't guarded, but then again, something had been happening in the castle below, too. Considering how his mental state had been, he had likely walked right past whatever had been going on below... although if Terrance had Avatars working for him, he could easily guess. Attacks, likely all over Canterlot, to distract the guards and sow panic...

Datura grimaced as he hurried towards the stairs and began to make his way up, and he couldn't help but grit his teeth at the sight of the dead bodies he passed. Avatars had killed some, but many of the wounds were from something else: something with big, sharp teeth, from the looks of those injuries... and something that liked to go for the throat and belly.

Halfway up the tower, a Royal Guard shouted at Datura almost desperately, and the scarred stallion simply gave him a sour look and then ignored him, continuing on his way up. He was frightened and trying to protect his friends: Datura could taste his fear, and the best thing he could do wasn't to reassure him, but to keep going so that the tense, terrified stallion didn't mistake him for an enemy and attack him.

Unfortunately, it wasn't long before Datura heard more hoofsteps coming down a set of stairs, and he looked up with a grimace to see several soldiers running towards him... and one of them had a goddamn radio clipped to his side, of course. They immediately skidded to a halt on the narrow staircase, blocking his way as two of them rose crossbows and the unicorn in the center shouted: “Don't move! We will not hesitate to shoot!”

They were covered in blood, armor broken, bodies bruised, and Datura studied them intently before he straightened and said coldly: “I'm here to stop Terrance. I know Celestia is here with Splinthoof and an Avatar named Sally.”

The unicorn frowned at this, leaning forwards and studying Datura intently, and the scarred stallion looked unflinchingly back before the Royal Guard stepped backwards, gesturing at him curtly. “They need every hoof we can get up there. If you can fight, you're welcome. Celestia is trying to disable the rift machine, by any means necessary: somehow that bastard Terrance is using it to create Figments.”

“What?” Datura's eyes widened in disbelief before he gritted his teeth: there was no time to wonder how the hell Terrance had managed that, of all things. Instead, he only strode quickly forwards, asking quickly: “What about the other Avatars? I'm guessing Terrance has a lot of them.”

“They look like they're from every faction. Celestia tried to talk to them, but the Crossworlders set off a bomb somewhere in Canterlot, then attacked.” The unicorn soldier shook his head briefly, grimacing. “Soldiers have been trading in and out, but with Terrance summoning in Figments and monsters, it's a losing fight. Especially with attacks going on below as well...”

Datura nodded, then he bit his lip before asking a question he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to: “How long has it been since the fighting started?”

“At least an hour. We can't hold out much longer. I don't know how the Princess is still going.” the Royal Guard answered, and Datura gritted his teeth: that really did go to say something about Celestia and her ponies, and how strong they were... especially if they were fighting a combined force of Avatar factions and whatever the hell Terrance had created.

With the Royal Guard escorting him, Datura made it quickly up to the top of the tower, where the Royal Guard had established a checkpoint of sorts: wounded were being treated, officers were trying to coordinate with each other over radio, damaged and broken equipment was being replaced and hurriedly patched.

Datura's eyes flicked sharply to a group of Royal Guard who had assembled at the ready in front of a broken set of doors and who were undergoing a last-minute equipment check, and the stallion muttered a quick 'thank you' aside to his escort before breaking away from the three and heading quickly to the back of the unit of soldiers.

The officer at the head of the line scowled before striding quickly around to the rear, opening his mouth... and then his eyes widened slightly before he leaned forwards, asking sharply: “Datura?”

Datura blinked, looking disbelievingly at the soldier before his eyes widened slightly and he said in a stunned voice: “Royce? But... you were...”

Royce laughed, the huge earth pony shaking his head as he replied with a grin: “Oh, I've changed, have I? Son of a bitch, look at you! I heard that you were being dragged back here but... I never actually expected...”

He quieted, studying Datura intently for a few moments before he shook his head slowly, and Datura smiled briefly before he said finally: “You were a unicorn the last time I saw you. Now you look and feel like an earth pony.”

“I stopped using my horn about thirty years ago. After about ten of getting no exercise apart from me occasionally using telekinesis to fling a book at my alarm clock, it just kind of... started to shrink. Until one day, poof, it vanished, and here I am.” The stallion paused meditatively. “Glad not every part of our body works like that.”

Datura sighed tiredly, shaking his head briefly before Royce stopped, then said quietly: “I still owe you one for breaking my leg, you know.”

“You didn't care about the fact I broke your leg as much as you did me biting you, as I recall.” Datura remarked dryly, and then he smiled briefly before looking ahead, saying quietly: “In my defense, you were the first pony that Celestia ever sent to try and retrieve me.”

“In my defense, I thought that meant by any means necessary. And I didn't expect your cheap-ass terror powers.” Royce halted, then he smiled briefly before looking up and shouting down the line: “Everypony, get ready to move in! Escort this asshole to the Princess by any means necessary!”

Royce firmly slapped Datura's back, and the scarred stallion glanced in surprise at the Royal Guard, who only smiled back at him. “Don't overthink it. One day I'm going to smash you in a fair fight. But until then, we can use your help.”

“I don't know if this is coincidence or dumb luck.” Datura said dryly, and then he smiled ironically. “You know, if this was a story, I'd say it was bad writing.”

“Life is full of bad writing. Look at how many crappy decisions people make on a daily basis.” Royce replied with a shrug, and then he gave a brief smile. “Unless you're trying to say you're afraid of going in, that is, and you need my boys to soften 'em up a bit more for you...”

“Stop stalling, Royce. I'm eager to bust Terrance's face.” Datura retorted, and Royce laughed before he suddenly became serious, leaning down and meeting Datura's eyes.

“Fine, but one warning: Terrance's machine is generating some kind of energy that interferes with magic. You might not feel it out here, but once you get close enough, it's going to make your brain sizzle. Don't go berserk, asshole.”

Datura only smiled wryly, then he looked forwards and said quietly: “It's a promise. Now come on. Let's move.”

Royce nodded firmly, then stepped back and pointed forwards, shouting at the Royal Guard on either side of the broken doors: “Go!”

The unicorn soldiers on either side of the doors both immediately snapped their horns to the side, gritting their teeth as they forced either damaged door to swing open, and the unit of Royal Guard charged quickly through, with Datura bringing up the rear and refusing to look back, even as Royce shouted 'good luck' after them.

They charged up a short set of stairs, then burst out of a shattered hatch and onto the enormous rooftop of the tower: the moment they stepped outside, Datura stumbled, his eyes bulging in pain as he felt an immense wave of psychic force rip through his mind. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stagger after the still-moving line of soldiers even as he looked hurriedly around, his eyes widening with horror at what he saw.

Ponies clashed on all sides, fighting each other, fighting Avatars, fighting monstrous Figments that looked like both beast and machine. Dozens of Trueborn lay dead, and Datura could only imagine how many Avatars had fallen as well... but more were climbing up the sides of the tower, while others dropped from enormous airships, and a few even portaled in using both magic and technology.

Datura gritted his teeth before his eyes locked on a flash of golden magic: there was Celestia, trying to fight her way towards some kind of barrel-shaped structure on the outer edge of the structure. His escort of soldiers was pushing straight for her, trampling any enemy in their way as the unicorns of the group created a wide magical barrier around them: weak, but easy to maintain and still powerful enough to deflect or slow any ranged attacks that came their way.

But then Datura's eyes flicked towards the center of the tower, and he gritted his teeth at what he saw there: Terrance, seated in a small tower occupied solely by him. It was surrounded by curving stairs that led up into the open, covered platform the pony was inside, but he was protected by some kind of forcefield that extended between the enormous columns supporting the domed roof above his head.

Without thinking, the scarred stallion broke away from the group: dealing with Terrance was more important. The stallion gritted his teeth as he ran forwards, his eyes glowing with hate as his mind sizzled with the energy in the air-

Terrance's eyes suddenly turned sharply towards him, and then he grinned before shouting: “Cease fighting!”

Waves of amplified mental force rolled through the air, and Datura flinched and stumbled to a halt as Figments, Avatars, and Trueborn all ceased fighting across the rooftop. There was only dead silence for a moment, and Datura gritted his teeth as Terrance sat back in his throne, smiling contritely as he clapped his hooves slowly before remarking: “Well, my my. It looks like you managed to get away from that child locked in the basement.”

“I guess you underestimated how good I am at killing things.” Datura said coldly, striding forwards and shoving his way through the ponies as he glared up at Terrance... and now that he was able to focus better on him, he could see that he was wearing some kind of strange... crown. And his corrupted eye saw such... energy flowing around him... “What have you done?”

“Oh, excellent, yes. You see, I was so rudely interrupted when I tried to explain the first time what I have here.” Terrance said pleasantly, reaching up and tapping his crown calmly. “But you've always been a curious sort, haven't you, Datura?”

Datura smiled grimly... and across the battlefield, Whisper whispered his name and Sally looked up in shock, trembling hard. But Celestia only smiled faintly, looking across the crowd of ponies before she closed her eyes tightly.

Her horn gave the faintest golden gleam, and Datura frowned a bit as he felt himself... nudged. A mental, magical nudge, and he cocked his head slightly, his own horn responding with a thrum as his mental powers stretched out, even as Terrance began to monologue away about his 'divine creation.'

Datura only paid attention to the broad strokes as Terrance rambled away, ever-so-proud of himself: the gist was simple enough. He'd easily been able to disable all the rift machine's security and move it upstairs to his private research tower, where he'd been experimenting with the technology for the last few years. He'd found a way to use it to override the laws of Equestria using special machinery: a miniaturized version of this machine had been hidden away where the rift machine had once been, and then keyed to Death Oppressor, giving him unlimited power in a zone Terrance had purposefully kept very small.

And then Terrance had built a much, much larger version of that same machine here, but modified it further: to make it even more effective, to allow him to alter reality on an even larger scale, Terrance had designed the machine so it absorbed the thoughts and beliefs of Avatars from across Equestria. It crystallized his very will, brought forth any thought he had into reality, allowed him to tamper with the lives and fates of anyone in Equestria...

Datura ignored the rest, turning more of his attention towards Celestia as Terrance blabbered on about how all this fighting was just releasing more energy into the air, making him stronger. The stallion could feel a mental message from her...

Terrance began to slow, perhaps realizing that Datura was no longer paying attention to him, but even as he began to narrow his eyes dangerously at Datura, he couldn't help but brag: “And of course, I decided to test if I could modify the rift through this machine as well, since it contains many of the same parts and principles... and what would you know? I actually pulled through an Avatar from my home town who had never even heard of My Little Pony...”

Sally looked up sharply in disbelief, and then she stepped forwards, asking disbelievingly: “You? You're the reason why I'm here?”

Terrance laughed loudly, turning his eyes towards Sally as he replied easily: “It was just an experiment, and you are nothing more than a result, a... calculation that exceeded my expectations. Now I just need to learn to control this, and imagine the power I can give myself! My talent has always been for diplomacy, for... figuring out the right thing to say. I speak, and others listen. Now imagine, with all this power, if I can drag a... a corporate mastermind, a country's president, a world leader into Equestria, into my Equestria! I could milk them of all their secrets... and then, when we return to reality, imagine how powerful I'll be, knowing every password, every code phrase, every secret of every important nation!”

Terrance laughed again, grinning as he looked down at his hooves before he whispered: “No one will ever treat me like I am a nothing ever again. Look at me, Datura! You might weave dreams, but I weave reality! My powers are now far, far beyond your comprehension!”

Datura ignored him, keeping his eyes closed for the moment as he breathed slowly in and out, and the stallion scowled darkly at him, pointing at him and saying sharply: “Listen to me!”

Datura flinched, stumbling backwards... and then he slowly looked up as he felt that mental nudge from Celestia again, the scarred stallion looking fearlessly up at Terrance as Terrance frowned back at him, before Datura said quietly: “No.”

Terrance stared, lowering his hoof in disbelief as whispers of shock ran through the crowd, and Datura cracked his neck before he straightened, looking coldly up at Terrance. He could feel the psychic force hitting his mind... but Terrance's powers were getting lost in the cracks in his fragmented personality and bouncing uselessly off his stubborn psyche... and even more than that, he could feel hands gripping his shoulders, and hear a whisper guiding him. Terrance boomed and thundered and had incredible power, but he had something more watching over him. He had more than just a reason to fight: he had a promise to fulfill, to a person whose courage and strength had always been his entire reason to be...

The two looked at each other, and then Datura leaned forwards and said coldly: “If we shut down your machinery, we shut down you. You've always been a moron, Terrance: you think you have the upper hoof here, but do you really?”

“Yes, Celestia and her little soldiers did destroy one of my Zealot Casks, but so what? Let them destroy all of them! My machine will still run, and I'll still have enough willpower, enough psychic strength, enough... whatever your puny mind wants to call it, to create anything I desire.” Terrance retorted, gesturing sharply outwards. “Watch, as so.”

Terrance smiled coldly as he thrusted a hoof into the air, and a shape began to form... then became a massive bird. And a moment later, the bird burst into red flames, shaping and altering itself rapidly as it screamed loudly, the phoenix flapping its wings powerfully as Terrance said quietly: “You see, an even better than my power source... is the belief of others. My machine is designed not just to draw power from the Casks, but to make what is seen reality. And oh, Celestia has already tried crafting illusions of her own, but you see, my machine inhibits magic, very specifically, as well. You're free to try yourself if you want, Datura, but no form of magic will work here.”

Datura felt Celestia's firm mental nudge to his mind as his instincts flared as well... and then he smiled slowly, licking his lips as he understood. He understood why he had been drawn upwards, why he had been so driven to unite his fragmented mind under one banner, why that energy in the air sizzled through his body.

“One problem, Terrance. I'm a Dream Weaver. And before Celestia watered down the Dream Weaver program, do you remember how we were trained?” Datura asked coldly, and his eyes glowed with psychic power as he rose his head high, before Terrance's eyes widened as reality trembled violently, the entire world starting to darken around them.

The firebird turned sharply towards Datura, screaming before it began to lunge forwards on instinct... and then it screamed in agony as a blast of lightning hammered down from the clouds above, spasming and quaking before simply exploding in midair into ashes and flames that were quickly scattered by a brutal blast of wind.

There was silence for a moment, and Terrance snarled, his eyes glowing with hatred as he leaned forwards, but Datura only laughed before he leaned forwards and shouted: “Let's have a battle of wills, Terrance! Because I'm willing to bet that I can kill anything you throw at me!”

“P-Protect the Zealot Casks! Don't let them destroy those casks!” shouted Terrance, looking back and forth before he gritted his teeth, his eyes glowing as he said coldly: “I'll deal with this weakling myself. This has been a long time coming, Datura.”

Datura only laughed again, his whole body thrumming with psychic malice as he leaned forwards, feeling darkness, and cold determination, and a need to stop this tyrant at any cost all flowing through him and further empowering him as he retorted: “I just hope you don't die too quickly, Terry!”

Terrance snarled in anger, and the Figments across the rooftop all vanished one after the other before a terrible, ominous energy began to gather rapidly, but Datura only grinned and rose his head high, malice leaking from his body as he whispered: “The Valkyries will guide my path, and Hel shall walk beside me.”

A titan of fire and golden armor burst free from the rift, hefting an enormous battle axe as it stomped quickly towards the scarred stallion, but Datura only laughed as he flicked his horn, a blast of mist erupting through the air around him before it transformed into terrible, skeletal death, a hooked scythe hanging from one skeletal hand and sockets glowing with hellish light.

Titan and Death clashed, and Datura grinned as he cracked his neck, saying hungrily: “Let's start with the bar low. Let's play. I want to enjoy this game!”

But even though his eyes glowed with malice, and a cruel grin masked his face, his thoughts were calm and lucid as he promised silently: I will buy them all the time I can. And I am going to finish this, one way or the other.

And as Figment and nightmare clashed together, Trueborn and Avatars surged against one another, one side determined to protect their home, their nation, their way of life... and the other desperate not to lose the paradise they had been promised, even if it meant following in the wake and ways of a tyrant.