Chapter Eight: The Final Memory.

"Great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame."
The War Doctor, Doctor Who: Day of the Doctor.

***

Sparkle frowned as Small Mercy and Sam finished their tale. Her eyes had flitted between them and the unconscious man as they spoke, and her face had settled into a grim, tired expression.

"... and then we woke up," Sam finished. "And thank fuck we did. I don’t think I want to know what he saw in there."

"No," Sparkle said quietly. "You don’t."

"I would have liked to see what was in that room," Small Mercy added. "It probably would explain his amnesia."

"Possibly," Sparkle said quietly. "What you’re describing is certainly… interesting."

"Yeah," Sam said, frowning slightly. "But there’s a more pressing question I’ve got." He frowned as he leant forward. "How in the name of fuck did you know what happened?"

Sparkle raised an eyebrow. "I didn’t."

"Pull the other one," Sam snapped. "‘I’ve seen him before’, that’s what you said. You were adamant that we kill him."

Sparkle sighed, looking away, but she remained silent.

"Please Captain," Mercy pressed. "We need to know what you know about him. It could make all the difference in helping him."

"You shouldn’t want to help him," Sparkle muttered under her breath, her voice a low growl. "You’ve seen what he is. What he did."

"We’ve also seen his world," Mercy responded. "We’ve seen what he was fighting so hard to protect."

Sparkle looked Small Mercy in the eye, narrowing her own eyes and scrutinising the other pony carefully.

"Do you really think this one is worth helping?" she asked quietly.

Small Mercy nodded.

Sparkle sighed. "Fine. Get out, both of you. Leave him with me."

Sam and Small Mercy exchanged glances, and then walked out of the room, out into the base itself, leaving Sparkle alone with the unconscious man.

"Well," she said quietly. "Here we are again. I’m almost surprised. Almost. Part of me was always expecting this, I guess. Always expecting that you’d come. I’ve gotta say, though, I thought you’d be a little more impressive."

"And I thought," the man replied, and Sparkle jumped back at the sound of his voice, "that Captain Twilight Sparkle knew better than to judge a book by its cover."

He sat up, his eyes opening as he did so. He looked at her, his eyes haunted.

"Captain," he said quietly. "You know."

"I know enough," Sparkle replied, scowling at him. "I know who you are."

"Do you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "That’s funny. I only just remembered myself."

Sparkle’s horn glowed, and she settled into a defensive stance. "I won’t let you hurt anypony."

"What makes you think you could stop me?" he replied, standing up to his full, six foot height. "If you know who I am, you know what I’ve done. Who I’ve fought. Who I killed."

"I know everything," she hissed at him.

He smiled, a cold, tired thing. "And I’d quite like to know how."

He raised a hand, and there was a flash of light.

***

Outside the small building, soldiers ran hither and thither, preparing for the next attack. Sam sighed as he saw Eleanor and more Iron Clads walking around, preparing to hold the line.

"Eleanor!" Sam called out. The young woman turned and jogged over to him. "What’s our status?"

"We’ve got troops coming in from all over the city," Eleanor said, panting slightly. "Solamina’s forces have only doubled - it’s like they called in reinforcements!"

"Reinforcements?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. "I knew they were desperate to keep us tied up here, but nothing’s changed that would…"

He trailed off as he suddenly realised - something had changed.

"When she says reinforcements, she’s means in a big way," came a familiar voice.

Walter Minecroft, bruised but smiling, had walked in on the conversation.

"She’s got walking corpses to do her fighting now," he said. "I mean actual corpses. Armour and all. It’s day of the dead out there. Except these corpses move faster than the living and don’t know when to stay dead. It took six of my men to down one they had cornered."

"Bloody hell," Sam swore. "That’s…"

"It’s happening," Mercy muttered, turning to Sam. "The Avatar mentioned tricks and corpses. That might be what he meant."

"The what now?" Walter asked.

"Never mind," Sam said, waving the question off. "I think we can deal with the corpses."

"I’m glad you have faith in us," Walter said proudly. "That’s not even the worst thing she brought."

"What is?" asked Small Mercy.

"Herself."

Something clicked in Small Mercy’s head.

"She knows," he said, his voice full of some sort of unnatural echo. "She knows I am here. She is watching. She will sense it."

Solamina knew Elliot was here.

"We have to prepare immediately," said Small Mercy. "Solamina is gonna come for Elliot."

"And she’ll go home without him," Walter noted.

"Dammit!" Sam swore. "We can’t go in there, he’s still unconscious and I don’t want to risk waking him up. But we’re not ready to fight the Tyrant."

"Sir," Eleanor said resolutely, taking a slight step forward, "we’re ready to give it our fucking all."

He looked at her, and smiled. "Yeah, that I guess we are."

Mercy saluted Sam. "I’ll get the medical bays ready."

Walter chucked. "Today is going to be quite the battle."

"That it is," Sam said quietly. "The only question is, is it one we’re gonna live to see the end of?"

***

Nightmares. Dreams of other worlds, other lives, coin tosses gone the other way, death, confusion, lies, battle… losses… all of it...

"I don’t want you to ‘explain’ why you are failing, I want you to stop failing, do you understand the difference?!"

The haunted her every night...

"The Empress can never wait."

A thousand lives were hers to live, every night, and there were days where she almost felt she could get lost to it… so many things she had done… so many things…

You don’t want to know! Please… if you value your sanity, don’t touch it!

So many lives, so many choices, so many different paths and every single one she trod in her dreams...

"Twilight Sparkle, Dusk Shine, Captain Sparkle of the Equestrian Systems Alliance, Twilight Star of the Night Guard, Commander Sparkle of the Equestrian Guard, Nightmare Paradox, Captain Sparkle of the USS Equestrian, Archmagister Twilight Sparkle of House Moon and Star, Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria, the Undead, Chancellor Sparkle of Equestria, Princess Twilight of Camelot, the Avatar of Albion, Corporal Twilight Sparkle of the Canterlot Defence Force, Twilight Sparkle of the Equestrian Resistance, Twilight Sparkle of Unicornia..."

...Twinkleshine, Centurion Sparkle of the New Roman Republic, Regent Sparkle of the New Solaminan Dominion, Queen Sparkle of Canterlot, Empress Tenebria Lucea Scintillula, Revenant Sparkle, head of the Legio de Mort Extremis, Captain Sparkle of the Equestrian Resistance…

… except that one was her, wasn’t it?

She remembered so many different lives. When she was awake, it was almost easy to forget them, banish them back to the recesses of her mind…

… but there were days where she felt strange being "Captain" Sparkle when she remembered being a High Commander. There were days when she wondered when the crew of the Equestrian would come to beam her out, or catch herself looking out of the corner of her eye as if afraid that Celestia would come out of the shadows, a bag around her neck…

And most of all, she feared him.

"Little Pony. An age and more it has been since I killed you and killed you and killed you. I know your fears. I know your hopes. I know your soul - I have tasted the darkest regrets and the deepest torments that lie in the very heart of you."

She remembered everything. A blade stabbing through her as an army burned. The feeling of her soul laid bare before the power of a dark God. Every death, every time that man came forth… she remembered everything.

And then a voice spoke into her mind.

"I remember too."

***

The Heart of the World - a long time ago, in another world…

Pain… pain unthinkable..

He could see... he could see every possible life he could have lived, every single version of himself…

***

… and he could see her.

She was tall, elegant and powerful, clad in golden armour that crackled with unknown energies and wielding a giant glaive in the grip of her magic. Her ethereal mane and tail calmly waved in a breeze of their own. Her wings were extended out in a display of challenge, and her glowing eyes were fixed on Elliot, appraising him. She smirked at something.

In response, the Avatar glared at her as she stepped into the room, his eyes narrowing balefully at her. If looks could kill, she would have been obliterated. The energy that surrounded Excalibur extended beyond the blade, enveloping his form, and a moment later his silver-armoured form stood against the armoured Alicorn, Excalibur crackling with power as he kept it levelled at her in challenge.

"So," she began. "You are the Avatar of Albion. The one they claim can destroy me."

"I am," the Avatar replied simply.

"You know you cannot defeat me," she said, her voice betraying her anger. "Nothing can."

"I can," the man replied, spinning Excalibur once in his hand, before bringing his second hand up and standing in a battle ready stance. "It is my destiny, my purpose. The lives you have destroyed call for vengeance, for retribution. Your people scream in horror for the things you have forced them to endure. The souls of the Converted lie shattered at your hoof. For them, I will claim vengeance."

Solamina laughed, a cruel, mocking sound.

"You think it is you of all beings who will stand against me?" she said, her tone darkly amused. "You can barely stand up."

"I have strength enough in this form for this," the Avatar said, not flinching, not even moving, the massive ornate Zweihander held up still, pointed directly at the monstrous Empress. "I have fought your mockeries and slain your Captains. Now, Astra Solamina Maxima, former Celestia, I will finish what I started."

Solamina snorted. "You will finish something little man - your pathetic life. I will take great pleasure in mounting your severed head on a spike and putting it before the people of your home, the final proof that their cause is hopeless."

"There is always hope," the man said, a soft smile forming on his face. He span the Zweihander, faster than one could imagine such a massive blade moving, and then aimed it at her again. "To the death, creature."

"To the death," Solamina replied, snorting. And then she charged…

***

... and he was alone again.

“I fought her!” he yelled into this white shapeless void. His voice echoed in the nothingness. “I destroyed her!”

And he found himself…

***

...somewhere else, staring at an armoured Alicorn who was battered and bruised, but still unbowed.

“You show no fear,” he said quietly. “I am impressed.”

“Silence,” the Alicorn said with a hiss. “You’ve destroyed countless lives. Murdered innocents. I don’t care about impressing you!”

“Very well, Princess Celestia,” he said, and he aimed the blade at her. “Are you prepared to meet death?”

“To stop you, you monster, any price is worth paying!” she yelled. She spread her wings wide, and then charged at him…

***

… and he recoiled.

“But…” he murmured. “But that was…”

***

“... an innocent!” someone yelled at him. A rotten tomato struck the armour of one of the men surrounding him. “You slaughtered innocents!”

The Avatar paused in his march toward the stairs before the square. All around him were crowds and crowds of ponies and people, who had apparently lived in ‘harmony’. He resisted the urge to laugh again at the thought - harmony was a lie. Peace was a lie. All that existed was death - yours, or your enemy’s.

This was a lesson he had learned long ago. He looked down at his hand and mused at the transitory nature of most things in life - even the flesh. This form was a temporary concern, a mere splinter of the whole. He had ascended - and now his concerns transcended the mere protection of one world. All of them had to be freed. All of them had to be shown the truth.

He looked down at one of the armoured figures surrounding him.

“Maintain order,” he said quietly.

“It will be done, my lord,” the armoured man replied. He aimed his Halberd rifle without another word and fired, blasting the offending thrower apart. There was a sudden hush over the crowd as the Avatar ascended to the top of the stairs. Once there, he looked out upon the crowd and smiled beneath his helm.

“You are fortunate,” he said to them. ”You are about to be freed. Freed from the fear of destruction at the hand of Tyrants and monsters.”

“What does that make you?!” some bold figure called.

“I am Salvation,” the Avatar replied. “I am Albion…”

***

… and he was a monster.

Everywhere, he was a monster. He could feel it. He was living it. He was nothing but a monster, and there was worse to come!

No! No, that would not be him! No!

***

London base. Now.

Captain Sparkle gasped awake, and found herself looking across the small space at him. He was slumped against a wall, his grey hair and stubble making him look old, far older than she knew he was.

"You were there," she said, her voice a breath. "You saw it."

"The Heart of the World," he replied tiredly. "In some worlds, when I stepped into that place I saw her - her across creation. Celestia, Astra Solamina Maxima, Ra-Abaddon, Solaris, Corona, The Dark Star, Stella Imperatrix Supremus, Astraloth, Vasa the golden, Japheth…" He trailed off. "In some worlds."

"But not in yours?" she asked.

"I saw what became of me," he said quietly. "I saw the man I become. The man you’re afraid of."

"You’re already him," she pointed out. "You practically razed Canterlot in your battle with Solamina. There must have been thousands of civilians killed by what you did."

"Tens of thousands," he replied quietly. "At least. Possibly the entire populations of Ponyville and Canterlot. All their Guard. All of them."

"Then how can you say you’re not him?!" she yelled.

He looked up at her. "Because I remember. I remember what I saw."

Darkness inescapable. An army of loyal, fanatical soldiers with only one order - win. His army. His war, eternal and unstoppable. His destiny - to free the human race from fear by annihilating every single enemy they would ever face.

"I would have been him," he murmured. "If the Heart had shown me something else."

He paused, before lowering his head, sighing heavily.

"Do you think," he started, "that someone who makes a mistake can change it? Can make it better?"

She frowned, unsure how to reply to that. This man… this man was not the man she feared. But he was like him. Like him enough that they had walked the same path…

… a path she had walked to. If she was going to condemn him for what he had done in other lives…

"No more games, broken mirror. Time to smash you."

… then she had to condemn herself as well.

"I think," she said, speaking softly and calmly, "that they can try to make up for it." She frowned. She couldn’t bring herself to offer real comfort to this man. "But they can't change it. They can’t change anything."

"But they can try?" he asked quietly, leaning forward. "They can at least do that?"

She shook her head, almost remorseful.

"You can try forever," she said. "But it won’t give you what you want. It won’t change who you were, what you did."

Slumping back against the wall, he sighed heavily, closing his eyes. "I know. But maybe I can change who I am now."

"And how would you change who you are?" she asked. "You don't even know who you were."

"I do know," he countered, his eyes opening and looking straight at her. "Who I am, and who I was. And I know what I've done."

"And what do you think?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

His reply was a question in turn. "Honestly?"

"Honestly."

His eyes misted over thoughtfully, gazing off into an abyss only he could see, before he finally replied.

"I think," he said, "what I did was all I could do."

"Does that make it right?" she asked.

His eyes were dead as he looked up.

"That makes it the least wrong," he said softly.

The mare sighed, not responding for a moment, before looking back up to the man.

"Is that the judgement of a man who can't remember?" she asked bluntly.

He chuckled slightly at that, as though this were somehow amusing.

"No," he replied. "It's the judgement of a man who can."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "But what did you remember before?"

He shrugged. "Fragments. Bits and pieces. Enough."

"Enough to know where you were?" she asked.

He chuckled for a long moment, before looking up at her, a soft, humourless smile on his face.

"Enough to know who to kill," he said bluntly.

She sighed.

"And who did you kill?" she asked.

"I killed my enemies," he replied bluntly.

She raised an eyebrow at that. "It was that simple?"

His eyes were still dead, still filled with that hollow emptiness. "Nothing was simple."

She thought about that for a moment.

"It sounds simple," she said after a moment, tilting her head toward him slightly.

He scowled at her comment, as though he found it somehow demeaning.

"My enemies were an entire race,” he said testily. “Adults, children, the elderly, the infirm."

"Why isn't that simple?" she asked. Her voice was filled with something akin to scorn or criticism.

"It isn't simple,” he replied slowly, “because I remember every face."

Stallions. Mares. The young. The old. Foals. All of them, fallen like wheat in the harvest. His enemies. Ponykind.

There was a long pause between the two of them as she digested what he had said. She had a morose look on her face as she tried to remember the next question she wanted to ask.

"Do you remember..." she began.

"Everything,” he cut her off.

"Six particular faces,” she said, frowning at him slightly.

His eyes were tired, and he looked old. "I remember all of them."

She was uncertain as to whether she wanted to know the answer to her next question.

"And I suppose... one face in particular?" she asked.

"Yes," he said simply.

For a long moment, her eyes were full of conflict - she wasn’t sure she trusted him. If he were being honest he was sure he couldn’t blame her.

"Do you really remember them?" she asked softly.

His eyes were tired and sad, and yet he smiled quietly. "I'll always remember them."

***

"Then why ain't you got your little friends here to shoot me, already?" Applejack asked, narrowing her eyes at him with an expression of disgust.

"Because," he said, holding his arms open. "I want to kill you myself.”

With that he raised his hand-cannon and fired, but she was quick. He scowled, cocking the gun and firing again, and again he missed, and she ran into the woods, quickly disappearing from view.

“She’s escaping!” one of the SAS men yelled.

“Not for long,” he growled, and he drew a dagger, bolting after her into the undergrowth.

She was quick, and she knew woods well - but she was used to Orchards, not wild woodland, and though she had been in this sort of terrain before, it was not quite what she knew. that being the case, he knew she would slip up. He pushed himself.

A moment later, he spotted her, dodging between shrubs and trees awkwardly. In an instant, the hand-cannon was back up, aimed carefully, and fired. A single bullet sailed through the air, before impacting in her spine, severing vertebrae.

“Got you, bitch,” he said, scowling. He walked up to the mare.

Amazingly, she was still struggling to move when he reached her. He laughed aloud, and brought the dagger to bear.

“Y-y-you… bucking… monster…” she was struggling to say.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he replied, before slitting her throat.

***

Rainbow Dash blocked one blow, then another, then another, but her wrist blade was notched and she could feel her forelegs straining under the power of the blows, and he was toying with her! He was holding the steel and black marble weapon one handed, swinging it almost nonchalantly.

“Come now, Rainbow Dash,” he said, his armour gunmetal grey and glinting, and the blade clanging down once more on her own, denting it further and forcing her to the ground. “You were the finest warrior of your friends. Fight harder. Show me your power.”

“You… bucking… MONSTER!” she yelled, jumping up and lashing out at him with her blade. He blocked the blow, and lashed out with his fist, catching her in the face and sending her reeling. She struggled to get up, but she found a blade held at her throat.

“You are done,” he said quietly.

“One of us will get you,” she hissed.

He drew the blade across her throat and watched her life blood spill from her throat, her eyes widening in horror as she gurgled and choked.

“No,” he said. “You will not.”

***

There was a deep breath before she next spoke.

"And do you remember her?" she asked.

He smiled coldly. "Most especially."

She looked him in the eyes. "Did you do it then?"

He raised an eyebrow at her:

"Do you not remember?" he asked, surprised.

“I was dead.” Her voice was cold and full of something - almost like fear. “I asked you a question. Did you do it? Did you kill her?"

He sighed. "Yes.”

"Could you do it now?" she asked.

"Maybe,” he shrugged at her.

Her eyes bored into him. "Will you?"

He looked right back at her. "Do you want me to?"

***

Sam heard it first - the rumbling of feet marching in almost perfect unison. He growled.

“They’re coming!” he yelled. “Everybody, everypony! Take your places!”

”Grey Squadron is on station,” a voice said quietly in his ear. Rainbow Dash had been unusually subdued upon learning that Astra Solamina herself was coming.

“When she gets here, get clear,” Sam said sternly. “Leave her to the Clads. We’re the only ones with a prayer.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Dash said. “We’ll stick around long enough to keep you covered from the air then fall back to the outskirts and meet up with the reinforcements.”

“Remember troops,” came Walter’s voice on the radio. “every day before this has been a walk in the park. These Guards are ten times as tough. Separate the heads and limbs as fast you can. The longer you fight one, the more tired you get. These Guard don’t get tired.”

“Clads at the front, other troops on support,” Eleanor’s voice added. “Constant fire, don’t let up.”

Then they could be seen. Cobalt blue armour, soldier after soldier, ponies that might almost have been Royal Guard were it not for the blank, dead looks in their eyes.

“Targets inbound!” Sam yelled. “Everybody open fire!”

***

The two sat opposite one another. She sighed, not sure how to proceed. This was beyond anything she could have imagined - she had never thought that this moment would come for her, and if it ever did she had expected something entirely different from herself. She looked up at him.

He was slumped still against the wall, not looking at her. His memory was all there. He remembered every single thing, and to her great surprise, it was killing him.

"So," she said simply, unsure how to proceed from here. "What now?"

He looked back at her. "That depends, Captain Sparkle. What do you think should happen now?"

She smiled, a cold and empty thing, far removed from whatever she used to have. "I don’t know." She sat forward, a question coming, almost unbidden, to her mind. "When you fought her, were you afraid?"

And his answer surprised her. "Honestly? No. Either way, it would be an end. I didn't fear the end."

There was a crack of gunfire from outside, and he closed his eyes.

“She’s coming,” he said quietly.

Sparkle looked at him, her eyes widening. “What?”

“When you’ve fought the Tyrant, you know her, and you know when she is on her way,” he said softly. “She will have sensed my presence and sensed my use of the power earlier. She’s on her way here, now.”

Sparkle gulped, unsure how to react. This wasn’t a situation she could ever have anticipated - Solamina had spent eight years of war sat on her throne throwing ponies at the British Isles like cannon fodder.

“What…” she said, stammering. “What are you going to do?”

He groaned, pushing himself into a standing position.

“I’m going to do what you brought me here to do.”

***

Author's Notes:

Boom.

With thanks to RoyalPsycho for proofreading, and the Void for assisting with certain moments of dialogue. :-) Hope you enjoyed.