Spike awoke screaming. He had been having the dreams again- -the dreams that had only started recently. He could never remember what they were about, but he could always recall fragments: flashes of profound red fire, and metal overgrown with writhing flesh, and the sound of massive engines failing.

It had not been the dreams that had awoken him, though- -it was the pain. He immediately reached up for his face, feeling as though he had been stabbed in the eye. There was not much that could cause pain to a dragon, and almost nothing that could hurt him- -but his eye felt as though it were on fire.

His door slammed open. “Spike!” cried Scorpan. “I heard you screaming- -what’s happening?”

Spike looked up at his friend, and froze. He did not know what he was seeing. There was a kind of double vision, but the images were not duplicates. With one eye, he saw Scorpan standing in the doorway, looking truly worried. With the other, however, in Scorpan’s place, he saw a Pegasus. Except as he focused on it, he saw that it was unlike any pony he had ever seen.

It was larger than a normal pony, by far, and Spike was reminded of how Celestia had appeared to tower over her subjects. This pony, however, was not an alicorn. He had wings, but no horn. His body, however, was clad in, or made of, ornate golden plates. The angular format made him look alien, like something neither alive nor equidroid. Apart from all of it, though, he appeared mildly amused.

“Grand Magus?” said Scorpan, still worried.

The golden pony looked at Spike. “You are not Crimsonflame,” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

“Scorpan…are you seeing this?” asked Spike.

“Seeing what?” said Scorpan, looking around the room. “Come now, Grand Magus. You’re beginning to frighten me. What do you see?”

“A golden pony,” he said, knowing how strange it must have sounded.

“I don’t see anything,” said Scorpan.

“Of course not,” said the golden pony. He stepped closer to Spike, following Scorpan’s motion. “Interesting…I never meant for the eye to be used…there’s no way you should be able to see straight with it. A mad eye without a mad mind…must be maddening, I suppose.”

“Who are you?” demanded Spike.

“Nopony. Nopony at all, he said to the cyclops. A remnant. A final thought. Of all the times, though…”

“What do you mean?” asked Spike.

“Spike…who are you talking to?”

“Surely you must have seen it. A Creator. A living god. Or…no. That’s not entirely right.” He stared into Spike’s eyes, and to Spike’s surprise, he saw that the golden pony had one empty eye socket. “I was never one for self-sacrifice. And if you are remembering this, well…it means she’s almost done.” He smiled. “And take that eye out of your head. You look like an idiot.”

The golden pony faded away, and that half of Spike’s vision was replaced with one of Rainbow Dash, in glaring impressionist sepia, preening her wings.

The Grand Magus stood and pulled the eye from his head. It shifted slightly as he did, as though it were trying to resist- -or to help extricate itself from his face. The image of Rainbow Dash vanished.

“The eye,” said Scorpan, looking at it. “You saw something again?”

“Yeah,” said the Grand Magus. “Yeah, I did. Except it was so detailed this time. I heard it, Scorpan.”

“Are you sure it is safe to continue using it?” asked the gargoyle, genuinely concerned.

“None of us are safe as long as that thing is alive. I don’t have time for this.” He slid the eye back into its socket, and once again it started hurting. He ignored it. “The dragons we sent to the site of the surge- -have they reached it yet?”

“No,” said Scorpan. “But they have reported back. Grand Magus…there is nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about,” laughed Spike. “You felt it, didn’t you? Thebe and that creature- -if there had been any habitation in that area…”

“There wasn’t,” said Scorpan. “Spike…I know you don’t like her, but I sincerely believe that Thebe knows what she is doing. That, and she was likely successful. Nothing could survive a blast of that magnitude.”

“The volunteers- -are they trained in suppression spells?”

Scorpan considered for a moment. “They were all trained in invisibility spells, if I recall…”

“No. Not in invisibility. In full suppression.”

“Yes,” said Scorpan, confused. “Yes, they are.”

“Good.” He grabbed his cloak from where it was hanging. “I will be joining them shortly.”