The clouds swirled above, and strange white lightning pulsed through them. Occasionally it would pass from above in oddly orderly fractal lines and fall into the ocean below, boiling the water in brilliant flashes of light.

Between the tempest ocean and the gathering storm flew the Grand Magus of Draconia. The storm and the wind did not concern him. Although he had little ability to fly unassisted, he had enclosed himself in a powerful spell that enhanced his speed and protected his body. Had he chosen to, he would have been able to exceed the speed of sound through solid rock so long as the spell remained viable.

Rock, however, was not his goal. Far behind him, the others of his kind were examining the devastation caused by the fight between Thebe and the unknown creatures. The fallout of the area was making the task difficult, and the other Draconians were curious about so many strange and academic things at the site. This pleased the Grand Magus, but he already had seen what he needed to.

They all knew what direction the creature had taken after the battle. Under normal circumstances, this would be meaningless, but somehow the Grand Magus knew that such information was all that was necessary. Deep within himself in some dark, instinctive place, he somehow felt that he remembered the creature- -and he knew that it would travel in a straight line.

Initially, he had begun to doubt himself. As he drew closer, however, he began to realize that he had been right. The magic was incredibly strong, to the point that he could feel it thickening the air and rebounding off the spell that coated his wings. His life had been long, and he had spent much of it studying magic. He had learned of many kinds: of his own dragon magic, of the spells cast by zebra sorcerers with potions and herbs, of the magic wielded by unicorns and alicorns, and even of Order and Chaos. Many of those seemed to swirl around him, but the magic was distinctly different. It was heavy and powerful, but there was more to it than that. The magic that permeated the air was powerful but dead and empty, devoid of soul, as if it reeked of some bizarre and obscene chemical.

Even then, the Grand Magus felt that what he was experiencing was not only magic. The magic certainly existed, but it was not alone. There was another power present, one pulsing with life, that was something else entirely, a power that he could not identify.

Yet, from outside, this field of magic was almost entirely imperceptible. That was what had startled the Grand Magus- -that something this powerful could be contained so easily and so well hidden. It had seemed externally no greater than a filly unicorn charging her horn- -but within it felt like being surrounded by a flaming hurricane.

Such magic was profound and in its own way terrifying- -but not too unlike what the Grand Magus himself was doing. He knew Thebe well, and knew how powerful she was- -and that she had been defeated by one of these strange creatures. Although he wanted to face them, he knew that confronting even one them would be a battle that he might not win.

So he had called upon the spells that Crimsonflame had taught him and wrapped himself in a cloak of magic. This was not one of defense, but one of stealth; from outside, his own magic would be entirely imperceptible, and his body imperceptible.
Unicorn invisibility spells paled in comparison to this kind of magic, but the Grand Magus was still afraid. Dragons did not have cutie marks, but each one was born better at a certain type of magic than others. Spike’s specialty was translocation spells, and his predecessor’s had been elemental attack. Few were born with a specialty in stealth.

The Grand Magus shook his head and tried to clear his mind. He had spent so many years in training- -some, even, when he instead should have been with his friends- -and he knew that he needed to have confidence. Even if he did get into a fight, there was no way he would allow himself to be outdone by Thebe.

Then in the distance he saw it- -and stopped in midair. Before him, looming on the horizon, was a structure. Even by pony standards it was massive, a hulking mass of material rising asymmetrically as dark-colored spires toward the inverted funnel of clouds above that refused to approach it. Spike did not know why he was afraid, but the structure terrified him even at the great distance. It was bizarre and unnatural, and seemed to be hemorrhaging energy that slowly swirled around it, rising into the high atmosphere before falling back into the structure.

The Grand Magus reminded himself that he was invisible, and a master of teleportation. Although he could not teleport into this realm without alerting the creatures, he surely could teleport out. So, with this in mind, he dropped the flight spell from his body and began to approach slowly under his own power.

The appearance of the structure did not improve as the Grand Magus approached it, even slowly. He was not sure what it was for, or why it had been built- -or even what it was made of- -but it did not resemble any other practical structure he had ever seen. It was the size of a small city, built on some unfortunate island below, but it was clearly not meant for habitation.

As he got closer, he could see figures moving about its structure. He gasped and held his breath, slowing his approach to a crawl. Until that moment, he had only surmised that there were more than one creature. Even though he had known in his heart that there were more than one, he had hoped and prayed that he was wrong.

Never in his worst nightmares had he believed that there could be so many. There were hundreds of them standing at various distances from the structure- -either on the ground that was left on the nearby islands of the archipelago, on the water, or even in the air, suspended by no apparent mechanism.

Spike approached one slowly. They looked exactly as he had seen in his vision- -nearly as tall as he was, but far thinner, standing on two long legs and having two long arms. Their bodies were completely covered in strange metal. The worst part, though, was the eyes, those horrible luminescent orbs that were stared blindly with absolute focus toward the monstrosity that they were creating.

Each one was surrounded by an extensive magical field, and material would continually pour out of a transdimensional source. The Grand Magus recognized some of what came out: pieces of metal, fragments of equipment and electronics, and similar random bits and parts- -and some things that were far more organic. At one point, he thought he saw and heard several life ponies emerge, only to be torn apart by the creature’s magic.

The creatures would suspend the material that they produced around them, surrounding themselves with large spherical shells. The materials would move rapidly within these spheres, modified magically, broken and reconstructed with impossible speed as new equipment was created and molded by magic. These new components, when constructed, would be ingrained into the unfinished structure that they surrounded.

Slowly and with the utmost care the Grand Magus approached one of the creatures. It did not react to his presence in any way, and he had a chance to examine it and to try to image what horror lurked beneath its armor and wondering why they went through so much trouble to cover themselves so completely.

He leaned in closely and observed the creature closely. Two things became immediately apparent that he had not expected. The first was that its armor was changing; the swarm of reconfiguring machine parts around it would sometimes interact with the metal of its body, pulling away pieces and replacing them at lightning speed. The Grand Magus could only guess that they were improving themselves as well as building the structure.

The second thing was that the individual he was looking at had a marking carved into one of its shoulder plates. Of all the things it could possibly be, it was a trio of cloverleaves. The Grand Magus wondered why such a creature would have such a bizarre choice of mark drawn on it, but for some reason he could not find it comical. Once again, he knew something terrible deep within himself- -and did not want that thought being pulled to the surface of his mind.

So he passed by that creature and descended through the air, landing on the sandy soil below. The waves crashed heavily on the shore, and he was surprised to see that he was not alone. Waiting down at the base or lumbering slowly were the familiar forms of several of Thebe’s golems, their eyes white instead of Thebe’s ordinary red.

The Grand Magus felt even more nervous. The golems were part of Thebe, and yet these creatures had managed to steal them, a feat that was impossible not in terms of power but in terms of technical difficulty. Fighting the creatures was easy enough if they were mindless destroyers, but the thought suddenly occurred to Spike that they might have great levels of intelligence. The thought made him shiver; imagining the nature of the minds of such creatures was far worse than trying to determine what they looked like.

Intelligence also brought with it new dangers. There was a possibility now that even if the Grand Magus could teleport, the creatures would simply be able to follow him. They were not dragons, and they could not teleport as easily, but their magic was strong, even if the aura- -or in their case corona- -around them felt oddly out of place.

So he focused instead on their tower, approaching it with silent footsteps. The structure loomed above him, illuminated only by the flashes of lightning and the strange luminescence that it seemed to produce internally. It was large, and the architecture almost unfathomable to the point of seeming physically impossible, but that was not what made it so horrible. The structure itself seemed almost alive.

The Grand Magus was reminded of the tales his predecessor had told. There had been times when he had managed to persuade his mentor to tell him of how the old times she spoke so often of had ended. Crimsonflame’s eyes, though blind, would always grow distant and misty when she spoke of the final battle of the First Choggoth War over one million years earlier. The story was a sad one, but the part that had always terrified Spike was that of the Great Portal, and the creature that had come through. What he saw now reminded him so much of that story that he wanted to run and to take his friends as far away as possible.

Eventually he came close enough to see the material of the structure. The lightning flashed, and he felt his breath catch. Although made of so many things- -of stone and steel and plastic and things that had no name in Equestria- -he had seen parts of it recoil, hiding within itself. Components of it were capable of motion, of reaction- -and some of them had a pale color that could not be anything except flesh. That brief flash had confirmed what the Grand Magus had feared and known- -that this was no building. It was alive.

Then he did something that he could not understand. He reached out and put his hand on the metal of the machine. It felt strangely warm, and it sparked with energy but not painfully. Something felt strange, though.

Then it became apparent. Spike pulled his claw away quickly, but it was already too late. Surrounding him were hundreds of pairs of white, glowing eyes no longer directed at the tower. They were now looking at him.

Their work had stopped, and for the first time the Grand Magus understood their power. His spell had never once faltered. He was still invisible and imperceptible- -and the creatures had never for a moment not known of his presence.

From the crowd appeared one creature that was far larger than the others. Its limbs were longer and armor thicker and partially overgrown with lengths of pale blue-white crystal that emerged from one of its metal-clad shoulders. This one was the one who had existed the longest- -and the only one who bore no mark on the armor that covered its shoulders.

Spike summoned his strength to teleport, and to fight if he had to- -but he suddenly cried out in pain as his golden eye erupted with horrible searing pain. The noise was deafening as the eye spoke to him, transmitting the rush of white noise directly into his mind, blotting out the wind of the storm and the power of magic that surrounded him.

The largest of the creatures stepped forward, and pointed with a long metal finger.

“Leave…this place…” it said, its voice infinitely complex but transmitted into Spikes head. Those few words felt like the creature had taken years to say them. Every syllable was agonizing.

“First,” said Spike, resisting the pain in his skull. “Who are you? What are you called?”

The creatures continued to stare down at him, and not one of them moved. Then one among them spoke. It was impossible to know which one.

“We are…Human…”

The spell engaged just as there was a powerful surge of magic. The Grand Magus was cloaked in flame and pulled across space- -but even then, in that void, he could feel them watching, and he knew that had they desired to, they could not only have followed him but pulled him back.

The output spell erupted in a the floor of a forest, and the Grand Magus dropped to his knees. Without hesitation, he reached into his skull and tore free the Aurasus eye that he had implanted in his skull. The pain immediately stopped, but their horrible rasping voices continued to echo in his mind.

As fire filled his eye socket and repaired his eye, he looked down at the one he had borne for so long. It stared up at him blankly, but he knew that it was still seeing, still thinking and still hearing. It had always known their power, of those horrible things with their accursed name. Now Spike himself had seen them, and he felt like a child trapped in the path of a timber wolf or some other terrible beast.

For the first time in a long time, Grand Magus Spike did not know what to do next.