He started with Pinkie Pie. The one who ignored him, and was in turn ignored. This didn’t change, even as they passed the burning ruin of Sugarcube Corner.

Twilight hadn’t thought it possible for Pinkie to look any lower, but seeing the shattered windows and smashed-up, doughy remnants of pastries now scattered and thrown haphazardly on the cobblestone seemed to break something inside of her. Pinkie simply sat down, watching with wide, tear-filled eyes, flames licking out after her while they trundled by. Her jaw gaped low at the sight of the once-pink paint now turning black and flaking off. The cages bumped over something which squeaked beneath them, and when Twilight looked back she saw one of the twins’ favorite stuffed plushies: a little octopus with multicolored legs, the colors now dulled by mud and the squeaker inside wheezing pathetically from the tire track through its middle.

“I’m sorry…” Pinkie whispered. As usual, Jason didn’t even acknowledge her, much less slow down while they passed by. After a while, she simply curled up in a ball at the bottom of her cage, hooves under her chin, a soft sob shaking her body every now and again.

“B-but Pinkie didn’t do anything…” Twilight whispered under her breath. “Sh-she probably just heard from somepony how dangerous he was and…”

“And you think that excuses it?” Twilight turned, locking eyes with Pinkie’s hate-filled and decidedly un-Pinkie-like glare, her voice low, quivering, but angry. “You think what other ponies said excuses the ponies like me? The ones who did nothing and turned our backs on everything we’re supposed to stand for?”

Twilight grew quiet then. Pinkie turned away from her and continued to cry in the corner of her cage.

Rarity was next. By the time they reached Carousel Boutique, the changelings had already smashed out the windows and torn the door off its hinges. Nopony needed more than one guess for why they were now all occupied with piling up every bit of cloth, every ponyquin, every half-finished idea, every ensemble, and every sketched-out design into a huge pile in the street.

Here, the twisted caravan stopped, positioning itself so that Rarity’s cage was just a few short feet from the closest edge of the pile. Jason turned back, grinned, then his smile faded on seeing Rarity lying on her side in her cage, not even trying to inch her way towards the bars. Obviously, he’d expected her to beg and cry, to press herself against the bars, desperately reaching for the pile in a pitiful bid to save something. The mere thought of it made Twilight’s stomach twist. Thankfully, Rarity just laid there, tears rolling down her muzzle, watching the first flickers of flame in the window of her boutique.

Then, Jason’s face twisted back into that awful grin. “Tell ya what,” he said, motioning to the pile. “You can pick one item: one sketch, dress, or fabric swatch, for you to save. Just one.”

Rarity looked up at him, lifting her head just slightly. A few more trickles of tears stood out on her face. And then she laid back down again. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Jason took one shocked step backward, the rage slipping away for only a moment, only to return full force. “Five years too late,” he hissed before producing a small tinder and flint from his pocket. He knelt and spent a solid minute striking it over and over again while Twilight’s heart leapt into her throat. Surely, he didn’t mean for the destruction of all that beauty? Surely, he could recognize Rarity’s artistry, her craftsmanship, and spare it?

Her answer came when he stood again, orange flames racing out through the pile, branching out behind him. He grinned and glanced over his shoulder again, looking almost overjoyed to see Rarity pressed against the bars.

His smile faded when she whispered, her voice low, harsh, and desperate: “Sweetie Belle,” she gasped, sitting up suddenly. “Where is my…”

“Safe,” Jason replied, his head tilting suspiciously, as though a wild grizzly bear were presenting him with a leg of the deer it had just killed.

Apparently satisfied, Rarity’s wide, momentarily-panicked eyes settled back into the dullness that had slipped into them the day before, and she laid back down in her cage, looking right through the burning remnants of her life’s work.

“Your loved ones are all safe,” Jason announced, keeping that confused, half-tilted look on Rarity. “This isn’t about them, it’s about you.” Then he motioned to the driver, and the caravan moved along.

They trundled out of town, along streets that were only beginning to fill with smoke. Twilight recognized the route immediately: she’d only taken the road to Sweet Apple Acres a thousand times before. So she wasn’t surprised when the road took them past one of the orchards to see every tree wreathed in fire. Shocked, dismayed, and terrified, but not surprised.

Of course, that hardly matched Applejack’s reaction. She just slumped against the far wall of her cage, eyes wide, mouth agape. Her shackles rattled as she moved, clinking as she landed on her rump. And she just stared. She stared the entire time they trotted along, a tear rolling down her cheek every once in a while, her jaw working up and down. Twilight figured Jason might actually regret this punishment, because he was silent the entire time they walked.

Fluttershy’s cottage was also engulfed in flames by the time the nightmarish parade arrived, but more importantly, the cages and hutches spread out around it were all empty. She looked around frantically, muzzle pressed against the bars, her breath starting to heave in the beginnings of hyperventilation. Her eyes locked on Jason even as Twilight tried to reach for her in a desperate attempt to take her friend’s hoof. Fluttershy didn’t even spare her a glance.

Jason’s face remained at a steely neutral. His small eyes locked with her massive baby blues, remaining steady even as hers filled with tears. “Please…” she gasped. “Please, you said this was about us…some of them can’t take care of themselves…”

“I’m aware,” he replied with a shrug. Giving a theatric flare of his hands, his voice took on a mocking, saccharine tone. “I just did you a favor. If I was too scary for you to even deal with, then I can only imagine the nightmares those animals were all giving you. But no worries.”

At this, he pressed his face up against the bars of her tiny cell, grinning down at her. “You won’t have to worry about the nasty beasties ever, ever, again.”

He seemed to grow at the abject shock and horror that crossed Fluttershy’s face. Then suddenly, she threw herself at him, shackled hooves grabbing at his tunic. Jason’s eyes widened in surprise, his hands rising to defend himself even as his guards leapt into action, pressing their spears against Fluttershy’s body, prodding her neck and torso, screaming that she’d be run-through if she didn’t release their “King and Emperor.” She didn’t pay them any attention.

“I’m sorry!” She shrieked, tears matting her coat, her wings struggling against their bonds. “I am so, so sorry! Please understand that! Please stop taking out what we did to you on all of Equestria! Please, just…”

She stepped back, her hooves drifting away from his coat. The changelings’ spears remained pressed against her body. “I’m sorry…please understand…” she whispered, her head bowed.

Jason stood there, looking into her cage, hands shaking. When he straightened up again, it wasn’t with that old, stoic hatred, and for a moment, Twilight felt a glimmer of hope.

Only for a moment.

“No,” he whispered. “I don’t understand.”

Fluttershy looked up from under her hooves, tears still filling her eyes.

“I don’t understand how the six mares chosen to represent harmony and friendship itself can fail so completely,” he whispered. “I don’t understand how the six whose love and friendship was able to defeat any enemy could treat a creature so badly just for being different. I…I don’t understand…how you all could show yourselves for what you really are…and how the results could be so far from the ponies I thought I knew, the ponies who all the stories were written about.”

At this, he gripped the bars, teeth bared, his hands shaking the cage with all his strength as he glared in at his prisoner. “Explain it to me! Please! Tell me why this all happened! Tell me what was so awful about me! Tell me why you thought I had to be excluded and driven away from your world! PLEASE!”

In her head, Twilight begged Fluttershy to say something, anything to silence the ravenous creature before her, the one literally screaming at her for answers. Just something to placate him a little, still his wrath the tiniest bit. But Fluttershy just sat there, looking up at Jason with those massive, teary eyes, begging him to understand. And Jason just stood there awhile, a blank, frantic look on his face, looking as lost as a child wandering around in a crowded mall who gazed up and saw only strangers’ faces looking down at him. Eventually, he released the bars, standing away from the cages.

“God damn you all,” he whispered, fists clenching.

And the caravan proceeded.

“My turn, huh?” Rainbow Dash said, standing up in her cage. She locked a death glare on Jason, who returned with his usual half-lidded, thousand-yard stare. “C’mon monkey, go ahead. What have ya got waiting for me? My house demolished? The Wonderbolts Academy levelled? You get Spitfire herself down here to say I was never meant to be a Wonderbolt to my face?”

“No Rainbow,” he replied with tired sigh. “I’m not one to twist the knife when it’s already in.”

“What?” She asked, still glaring through the bars of her cell, but now with her head cocked quizzically.

“Oh, don’t you get it?” At this, Jason reared up, nearly slamming into the bars, causing her to rock back on her haunches in surprise as his face assumed an absolutely feral grin. “I’m never letting you go, Rainbow Dash.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t…”

“Let me explain it to you, so that big, dumb jock brain of yours can hopefully keep up,” he continued, still glaring, teeth bared. “I’m not going to do anything to your house, there won’t be a point since you’re not gonna be seeing it again. I will never let you taste the sky again, Rainbow Dash. Your wings will remain as a decoration, so you can watch them waste away, a pair of unused ornaments that will never soar so long as you shall live.”

Her eyes widened at him, her head shaking. “No, you can’t…”

“I’m thinking of making an Imperial Proclamation,” he continued without the slightest hint of mercy. “Just in case you outlive me. ‘Rainbow Dash is never again to be allowed use of her wings in any situation whatsoever,’ something like that, but with more legalese for the lawyers, y’know? Keep it all nice and perfectly airtight for the courts?”

She suddenly rose from where she sat, glowering. “You…can’t…take…that…from me…” she growled. “That’s my talent, that’s everything. You have no right to take that from me!”

Steam rose from her nostrils as she advanced. Jason looked at this display with that same nonchalant stare. “I’ve seen what you’ve done with your talent,” he said, even as he stepped back to avoid her head as she squeezed it through the bars. “Anyone who uses what powers they have to torture and maim the helpless doesn’t deserve them.”

She screamed, spittle flying from her exposed teeth, head whipping side-to-side as if she were trying to physically force her way through the bars. And even through it all, Twilight could see the tiniest smile curling at Jason’s lips, the satisfied way his head tilted back against Rainbow’s outburst.

This was the reaction he’d been looking for. This was what the night had been planned for all along.

After some time, when the worst of the screaming and bucking and yelling inside Rainbow’s cage had apparently passed, Jason tutted. “Such a nasty temper,” he sighed. “What would that little pegasus filly think if she could see you now?”

Rainbow didn’t even reply, only stood there with her shoulders heaving and her wings straining against the goo caked into them.

He shook his head. “In the end, it’s really a shame,” he sighed. “I would’ve liked to see one of your sonic rainbooms, once upon a time. Now, I think it’d just bring back bad memories.”

Rainbow Dash stopped at that. In an instant, the anger and hatred evaporated, replaced with the same look she gave Twilight whenever she tried to explain Starswirl’s theories on Quantum Entanglement. “Wait, what?” She asked.

Jason shook his head and started walking away from the cage, but after a few steps he paused and cast a look over his shoulder. This time, that thousand-yard stare seemed locked right on her, yet still sailed right through her, as if he’d been browsing through thousands of pictures of Rainbow Dash throughout his life and this was just another mediocre attempt at capturing her essence. “You were my favorite,” he croaked, and continued walking away. Rainbow looked after him, dumbfounded, and started to struggle anew.

“Rainbow, stop,” Fluttershy whispered.

She didn’t listen, throwing herself against her restraints. With a shout, Rainbow leapt at the bars wing-first, apparently hoping to bang the goo off. When that didn’t do anything, she rammed the cage headfirst, earning only a slight rattling for her efforts.

“Rainbow, please stop!” Fluttershy insisted, a little louder now, finally pulling her head out of her hooves.

Tears streaked from Rainbow’s eyes as she reared back, delivering a powerful rear buck to the cage doors, once again only earning a mild rattle. Her shoulders heaved, and she quickly spun, repeating the buck in rapid-fire succession.

“Rainbow, you’re just going to hurt yourself! Please!”

Finally, Rainbow did the one thing nopony expected: she cried. She lifted her leg for another buck, and then it dropped. She collapsed to the floor of her cage in tears, wailing into her hooves.

“Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy whispered and, with tears still drying on her own cheek, closed in as near to the bars as she could and offered a hoof.

Rainbow took it as if she were a filly being offered her favorite teddy. “H-he knew about the sonic rainbooms, ‘Shy,” she sobbed, nuzzling into the offered hoof. “I never did them in Ponyville, he only ever could’ve found out if he’d already known…if he was a fan…if he…was…one of my fans…”

Her head tilted back and a long, terrible sob ripped up from her throat, the sort that started low and built to a long, echoing cacophony, the sort of cry a filly might echo on realizing her puppy had just died: the kind that just built and built until it had nowhere to go, and kept going until it became a long, dry rasp from a failing voice. Her head finally flicked down and she collapsed into her hooves, her wings now shimmering in the light from the fire.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice now beyond raspy, now barely even audible. “I’m so, so sorry…”

“We all are,” Fluttershy whispered, fresh tears springing to her face. Even so, she looked over to Twilight’s cage, where the princess continued to watch the destruction around her with the sort of look one reserved for watching any natural disaster level her home. “At least, I think we almost all are.”

“A little late for crocodile tears, don’t you think?” Six pairs of eyes swiveled to meet Jason’s own, only one pair was still dry, still defiant; the rest looked broken beyond repair. He regarded them all with the same cold calculation.

“And then there was one,” Twilight scoffed, still meeting Jason’s glare as the others looked away. “So c’mon, Wright, what do you have in store for me?”

He grinned as the caravan trundled along towards the Palace of Friendship, the towering parapets and glimmering walls suspiciously lacking in smoke. Twilight arched an eyebrow as they pulled up to the empty front lawn, looking around. “So, where is the pile of burning books?” She asked, almost sounding disappointed.

“Burn knowledge? Just what do you take me for, princess!?” Jason gasped, going so far as to poise a hand over his heart and fan himself with his free hand, a motion Rarity was only too familiar with. “I will admit, however, that some sacrifices will be made.”

At that, a pair of changelings walked out of the palace, arms filled with scrolls. Twilight frowned. “Those aren’t books,” she said.

“No,” Jason replied, striding over as the changelings dumped the scrolls on the lawn and retreated back inside. He stood in front of the small pile, that wicked grin never once leaving his face. The changelings again returned, carrying more armloads of scrolls, which were also unceremoniously dumped into the pile. Still, the grin remained as he whirled around, facing the caravan again. “This is every letter you and your little friends have written to the princess.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. She bolted to her hooves, then slowly leaned against the bars, mouth open in horror. “Y-you wouldn’t…” she whispered.

Still grinning, Jason extended his hand, and a changeling from the caravan leapt forward with a torch flickering in its hooves.

“Y-you can’t!”

“I can,” he replied, turning again and regarding the pile. He extended his arm out over the scrolls, the torch now flickering carelessly just a few yards from everything the ponies had learned about the magic of friendship.

“Please!” Twilight screeched, now pressed as tightly against the bars as she could go. “I’ll do anything, please!”

At that, Jason’s quivering hand paused. He turned to her again, the grin no longer present, replaced with that thousand-yard stare again. “Anything?”

She nodded desperately.

“Take back the last five years.”

She stood back from the bars, head bowing low. “Jason,” she whispered breathlessly. “You know I can’t…”

“Take back the last five years,” he hissed, teeth baring, a dark glare rising over his features. “Undo every buck, every lightning strike, every thrown rock and piece of flying garbage. Erase the cold, lonely nights in my cave, crying myself to sleep with nothing but the tattered remains of my old clothes for warmth. Take back the times I hated myself for being what I am, for not being something you could love as you loved each other. Take away the knowledge of what true hunger feels like, what total desperation feels like, what it feels like to want to die!”

At that last bit, his voice dropped to a furious growl. Twilight backed away from the bars. And still, Jason never relented, even as his chin dropped and he glared into her eyes with half a decade of pain and misery focused in his stare. His fingers ran over the long scar, tracing it all the way up through his hairline. “Take this away, and most of all, give me back what you stole. Give me back my heart, my love, my peace, and my ability to get some fucking rest without thinking about that goddamned cave you left me to die in!”

Twilight looked at him like a deer in the headlights, still stunned, unable to process the sheer volume of his tirade. Jason met her gaze, and finally sighed. “Of course you can’t,” he muttered, then, in a single fluid motion, he whirled and plunged the torch into the heart of the pile.

Twilight pressed herself to the bars again, tears building in her eyes. “Please!” She cried, only this time she was totally ignored as the flames rose over the scrolls. Every lesson, every “Dear Celestia,” every intimate, friendly moment shared with the princess, vanishing in a flickering orange blaze. She couldn’t scream, she couldn’t cry, she couldn’t beg, she could only sink to her haunches and stare with abject horror.

Something shattered within the castle. Twilight could barely muster the strength to look up from the burning pile on the lawn, just catching the moment another changeling spell smashed against the starburst-shaped pattern on the castle’s facade, scorching it.

“Well, that greatly improves this eyesore, dontcha think?” Jason chuckled, turning back to the princess. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to destroy the whole castle. Do you have any idea how long that would take?”

Twilight said nothing, surprised at herself when she couldn’t even find the energy to try and calculate an answer to that question, just to have something to do, just to distract herself. Surprised and dismayed that instead of howling something clever and defiant Jason’s way, she could only find the strength to lay there in her cage and look through the burning embers of her friendship reports.

“Not worth the time,” Jason waved a hand dismissively after a few moments. “Instead, I’m wiping out all traces of you in it. Just like I destroyed your statues in Canterlot, just like my changelings are, right now, smashing every stained glass window and burning every record of you in it. When I’m done, the only thing left on this planet with your name on it will be a fucking birth certificate.”

She didn’t bother to look up at him again; she knew where this was going. Odds were he knew she’d figured it out too, but he just wanted to twist the knife.

“I’m going to erase you, Twilight Sparkle. All your accomplishments. Everything you defined yourself by. Gone forever. You will die, and you will take your name with you. In a hundred years, nopony will even remember anything you’ve done.” He grinned wickedly. “Including the abuse you levelled my way, so hey, some good’ll come of it, right?”

She forced her eyes shut, blinking back tears. “Ponies will…”

“They’re mortal, Twilight, and you know as well as I do that mortal memory can be such a fickle thing,” he sighed passively, studying his nails as though he saw something more interesting there than the princess before him. “One minute everybody’s singing your praises, the next the only time they wanna talk to you is to ask: ‘well, what’ve you done lately?’ And that’s if they even think of you at all.”

He grinned at her over his fingernails. She shivered within her bonds. “That’s my goal for you, Twilight, and that’s what I’m planning to take away. Everything you’ve done, completely and utterly erased. I may not be able to hold you forever, but I can guarantee that when you finally do get out, you’ll be dropped in a strange world that sees nothing when it looks at you. Sound familiar?”

Her jaw working up and down as she fought back the sobs, Twilight gazed around, head whipping in every direction out of desperation. Rarity and Applejack faced away from her. Fluttershy still cried into her hooves. Pinkie Pie only barely acknowledged her with a sideways glance before turning away in her cage. Only Rainbow Dash met her gaze, scowling through the bars.

“R-Rainbow?” Twilight asked, reaching out for her.

The pegasus drew away. “You deserve it,” she hissed, tucking her muzzle back into her hooves.

Twilight fell back on her haunches, her face vacant and filled with tears. In that moment, she realized she was at her lowest. In that moment, she had hit rock bottom, and everything she’d known was gone forever. The loving, comfortable world of just barely a week ago had changed, and someone was going to make sure that she wouldn’t be included in the new one. This was it. This was what it looked like to be at her lowest.

And then, somepony handed her a shovel and told her to keep digging.

“Twilight!” A voice cried over the flames. At first, she didn’t register it, but then it hit her. Her eyes widened. Oh no…he can’t be here! Please tell me he isn’t here!

The thought was so awful, just so utterly terrible, that at first she didn’t want to believe it. But then it came again: “Twilight!”

“N-Spike!” She cried, leaping to her hooves. All eyes in the little yard widened in surprise as they locked on the little, purple dragon, now standing in the doorway, looking over the lawn with the shocked eyes of a child in a warzone.

Spike’s didn’t seem to know where to look, his narrow pupils darting over the changeling guards, the burning pile, the caravan of cages, and the human standing in the middle of it all, who looked as surprised to see a purple dragon as the dragon was to see him. Finally, Spike honed in on Jason, and he glared.

“Let my friends go! Now!” He screamed, raising a small, chubby fist in the air and shaking it. If anything, Jason still looked surprised, as though Spike literally couldn’t be where he was standing, even as he leapt down from the doorway and scooped a partially-burnt scroll out of the fire, wielding it like a sword.

“I said let them go!” He repeated, holding the scroll over his shoulder, ignoring the burning embers bouncing off his scales.

“Spike, don’t!” Twilight cried.

“Put it down, you li’l idiot!” Applejack screamed beside her, knowing full well how a full charge against Jason Wright could end.

The dragon didn’t appear to hear them, still waving the stick in the air. He let out a cry and charged, running as fast as his little legs would carry him towards the Changeling Emperor.

It was no good, of course. Long over his initial shock, Jason easily seized the end of the burning remnant and, with a twist, not only deflected Spike’s attack and sent him sprawling but wrenched the weapon out of his claws. Spike fell to all fours in the grass with a little grunt, immediately trying to press himself to his feet, only to be scooped up by Jason’s powerful arms.

“D-don’t hurt him!” Twilight shrieked. “Please, don’t hurt him!”

“Lemme go!” Spike screamed as he struggled to no avail. Jason held him tight against his side, an arm wrapped around Spike’s barrel. The baby dragon’s fangs and claws were no match against the cotton armor around the arms holding him. Finally giving up on trying to claw his way out, Spike settled for trying to squirm free, reaching for Twilight as his struggling became more desperate and tears started to fall from his eyes.

“Twiliiigght!” He cried, reaching for her.

“Spike! Stop, don’t fight them!” She cried. “Just stay safe! I will find you again!”

“Twilight!” He cried again, this time with a cracking, wavering voice as tears poured down his chubby cheeks.

For his part, Jason only made a single, swooping motion with his free arm as he carried the dragon away, and suddenly, the caravan jerked into motion.

“Spike…” Twilight moaned, and then she too sank to the bottom of her cart, her heart shattering in ways she would never be able to put into words. In the corner of her mind, she wondered if this was what Jason meant. If this sort of pain was the kind Jason was talking about.

She could only hope so. She quivered at the thought of there being something even worse to suffer from out there. As it was, she could only gaze through her tears at the fading silhouettes in the flames, and wonder if she would ever feel whole again.