That argument really put Starlight in a foul mood. She could only bear to go in for about a kilometer before she had to sit down and cool off. A soft boulder protruding from the wall invited her to rest on it. As she did, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dark depths of the cave. The light peering out from the entrance was just enough to let her see, so she figured if there was ever a time for her to regain her composure without spending energy on illumination spells, now was it. Sucker Pop leaned on a wall next to Starlight on her side, as the whip had taught her not to sit down while carrying things on her back. For somewhere around ten minutes she fumed with heavy breath; it would've been a lot longer were Sucker Pop's sweetly smiling face not there to pacify her.

Once the noises of rapid heartbeat and harsh breathing settled down, she could hear the sounds of booms and crackles from the outside. The matter, it seemed, couldn't be settled peacefully. She thought, maybe she could go back out and help her close friend. After all, she was a competent fighter in her own right, perhaps even more than he gave her credit for. And surely, her sudden intervention would be unexpected. He had been protecting her from the harshness of the Wasteland for all this time. Perhaps it was time for her to return the favor. Yes, it was time.

So, she propped herself up and made a thunderous dash to the outside. However, she could only run for some few brief moments before a large beam from the entrance missed her by less than an inch. The entrance to the cave collapsed soon after, closing her off and leaving her in darkness. This left her heart racing, with each beat seeming to echo throughout the cave, and her eyes darting around the unlit chasm. There was no helping him, it seemed. This was his battle to fight. After calming down once again, she lit the way with her horn and slowly plodded her way down the cave.

A chilling breeze brushed against her face, carrying the smell of copper. No sound was present, save for those of her own hoofsteps and the pitter-patter of water that could sometimes be found dripping down from conical rock formations from the ceiling. Starlight decided it was time to break the silence.

“So, Sucker Pop. Are you worried about your master at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I'm sure he can handle some kid with a crown on her head.”

“I have dweam 'bout awicown. Big. Scawy. Move big day staw wit hown.”

“Oh, no, sweetie. That wasn't Princess Celestia. That was Princess Twilight. Two totally different things.”

“Twiwight Cwestia's big boom-boom. Weaw scawy. She fight huge monstew Tiwek.”

Tirek. She remembered Tirek. When that demonic centaur came stomping on her doorstep, she had to go into hiding, escaping through that hidden tunnel from her house to the mountains, watching the devastation that he wrought on her town. No citizen of Our Town today can trace his membership to the days before Tirek, because once he tried to suck away the town's magic, he found his spoils disappointing, and massacred them all in a fit of rage. She was sure he would've killed her as well if she didn't have that one failsafe. The only reason Our Town could have been rebuilt at the speed it did was the displacement caused by his indiscriminately destructive rampage. And yet, Twilight had stopped him with power rivaling his own. And so, she thought that perhaps that sort of power really should concern her. For all the Wanderer's training and all his genetically engineered pure-blooded master race nonsense, he was up against she who would stand up to a Tartarus demon, and win. A one-sided fight wasn't something she could be so certain of.

Worry started to set in.  He was not only a valuable asset to her in a practical way, but also one that she'd taken a real liking to. After all, he saw eye to eye with her on so many things, and they shared many traits and interests to the point where she didn't feel like she had to be manipulative to get along with him. She tried being manipulative with him when they first met – it didn't work out. Not the way she'd intended, anyway. At the time, she didn't have the slightest clue what she was dealing with, and even at this point, he was still a bit of an enigma. To her surprise, she felt somewhat saddened at the thought of losing him, as she thought her life would be less pleasurable without him.

“Sweetie,” Starlight said, “Just what do you think of the Wasteland? Do you think this place is good, or evil?”

“Mastew teww me tose wowds aw meengwess.”

“What? Good and evil?”

“Yes.”

“Well, did he tell you why?”

“He teww me Equestwians cwing on tose wowds so tey can say 'no' to tings wittout tinking 'bout dem, wittout evew tewwing why.”

“So he says they're just words that we use to dismiss ideas and concepts without considering the reasons for it? Sorry, you're a bit hard to understand.”

“Um, yeah, I tink so. He say teww wike ghosts, scawing us fwom toughts an' ideas wittout bein' matewiaw temsewves.”

“Scaring us from ideas? Ideas like Equalism?”

“Yes.”

Starlight took a bit of time to think about this. She had the concepts of “good” and “evil” hammered into her head from birth, and yet, she never did feel like she had a solid grasp on those concepts, so she was often left wondering whether her actions were good or evil. Could this be why? Could it be because they were so nebulous that they could be made to mean anything, and not through any fault in her own reasoning? Could one call her good, and another call her evil, and they would both be equally correct, or equally incorrect? If anything, this idea lifted a huge weight off her mind. Without these phantasmal boogeymen, these spooks, haunting her every moral and ethical decision, she could be even more confident in her knowledge that it only mattered that something was right, and as long as she was working towards the goal of total equality the world over, she was doing the right thing.

“You know,” Starlight said with a smile, “if he doesn't come back, at least I'll have this to remember him by.”

With renewed purpose, she continued on down the cavern. They didn't have much further to go. One could tell this by noticing how the natural rock formations were gradually supplanted by walls of pure, solid bronze. The breeze, once cool, was now warm, even toasty. And in the distance, she saw the end of the hall, illuminated with a red glow. This was it. The key to her destiny.

“Mommy,” Sucker Pop said, “tis wooks scawy. Can I stay hew an' cwose my eyes a wittew?”

“Sure, sweetie,” Starlight replied, “go ahead.”

She went on to the gem alone. As she inched closer and closer to it, she felt her mouth water, and tingling rush through her bones out to her skin. No matter if she won or lost, she was sure that a place in the history books would be hers. And if she did win… well, she didn't want to dwell too much on the idea, as she'd probably find herself drunk on it. Yet, she made sure not to walk too quickly. She wanted to take her time to drink in this moment. As she approached the end of the hall, she could see the source of that red light. A glowing, oval-shaped gem standing upright atop a bronze pillar, just below eye level with her. Once she got close to it, she took some time to ogle at it. She could see her own reflection in that gem.

Then, at the glow of her horn, she magically lifted the gem up to the ceiling, looking at it as she made a loud declaration: “I, Starlight Glimmer, holder of the Gem of Mount Athon, summon the vast golem armies of Wolfram to deliver me the Wasteland!”

Her shouting echoed down the hallway, but then, nothing. She looked left, and she looked right, but there was nothing different.

She tried again, but louder: “I, Starlight Glimmer, holder of the Gem of Mount Athon, summon the vast golem armies of Wolfram to deliver me the Wasteland!”

Again, the hallway did not reply to her in any discernible way. The vigor within her was fading, and her lips curled into a scowl and her eyes narrowed in irateness.

She tried one last time, with clear bitterness in her voice: “I, STARLIGHT GLIMMER, HOLDER OF THE GEM OF MOUNT ATHON, SUMMON THE VAST GOLEM ARMIES OF WOLFRAM TO DELIVER ME THE WASTELAND!”

This time, the ceiling flashed, and a blinding white light filled the hallway. Starlight heard an eerie cackling from the opposite end of the hallway, and the gem suddenly changed from a shimmering precious stone to a common gray rock. Startled, Starlight dropped the rock, causing it to plummet back down on the pillar and fracture itself on the bottom.

“Well,” echoed the deep voice from the hall, “hello there, little lady. So, found a way to get to my gem, now, have you? No, no, that just won't do.”

Starlight growled. “I came all this way because everyone in the Wasteland said your stupid gem would get me an army from the mountains. What gives?”

“Oh, come on. You believed that old wives' tale? Really? That 'gem' is just a worthless pebble. You're stupid. Gullible and stupid. And since you're such a stupid little filly, I'm gonna have you killed now.”

Charging her horn, she planted her hoofs firmly on the ground, her heart beating at rapid pace, her mind and sights racing to spot whatever it was that needed blasting.

“Relax,” the voice said, “I'm fucking with you.”

She settled down, face still tense from combined anger and anxiety, and still with her wits about her. “What do you want?”

“Aww. Can't you at least let me introduce myself?”

Starlight sneered at the voice. “I know who you are. You're that Tartarus demon who tells his beefed-up goon squads to beat up anyone he doesn't like because he's a petulant child.”

“And you're that spoiled Canterlot brat who came all this way to beat up my beefed-up goon squads to fix her little inferiority complex.” He paused. “Yes, I know all about you, Starlight Glimmer. I've been watching you ever since you decided my realm was a great place to start a cult. You've been at it for, what? Three, four years now? And learning to remove cutie marks all by yourself… just how does a magical prodigy get obsessed with making everyone equal, anyway? One would think you'd have stayed in Canterlot and risen up the ranks to become one of Celestia's vassals, but nope! You abandoned everything you ever knew to build cuck sheds in an arid god damned nowhere. Very strange, but convenient nonetheless. You were just what the doctor ordered.”

“What do you mean? Why didn't you just come to me?”

The voice laughed. “Oh, where's the fun in that? I like keeping the idea of my very existence ambiguous. Did you know that Byzuntonia is primarily atheist? Cracks me up every time I think about it. No, I had my own way of getting you here. Getting your Imperial friend to do it.”

“What? Did you have him marked from birth or something?”

“Hah! What, you expect me to have planned Our Town a hundred years in advance? Ooooo, super-special chosen one, huh? Ha, ha! No. That'd be you, sweetheart." The voice paused. "He wasn't anything special at all. At least, not until the Fourteenth Crusade. All the other deserters were either rounded up and killed by Saddle Arabians, rounded up and killed by their own Legions, killed by the elements, or killed by themselves, but he just kept plodding along. At first, he was just a semi-interesting sideshow, but once you showed up, he was the perfect candidate to help get you over here. He was nearby, so I just had to give him the right incentives to stop by at your place, and let your own selves do the rest.”

“Why do you take this much interest in me, anyway? How am I so important?”

“I needed someone whose mindset was separate from that of the Wasteland, yet had no loyalties or ties to any sovereign state outside of it. Hard to come by, since no-one in their right mind would willingly come here. You were that and so, so much more. Now, why would I want that, you may ask? Simple. I want the Empire dead, and I want something fresh and new to replace it.”

Taken aback, her eyes widened and her mouth went agape. “You… you want the Empire dead? But you are their patron deity. They literally worship you.”

“Yeah. They're also very, very boring.”

She pursed her lips, wondering how that could possibly be a good reason. “…boring?”

“Oh, I knew this would happen. Thanks to that brooding, angsty, no-fun-allowed sad-sack, Planetvoid, the Wasteland thinks I'm an uptight, fun-hating jerk.” He paused. “Well, I can admit to being a jerk, but the other two things are way off the mark.”

“Hmph. Well, how is it boring, exactly?”

“It hasn't done anything interesting for the last three goddamn centuries. It's all just Crusade, political strife, Crusade, wash, rinse, repeat. They haven't made any decent headway in the Crusades, either. Saddle Arabia's alliance with Equestria makes sure of that. Now, you know when the Reich was fun? When Planetvoid was still alive, and Byzuntonia and Ruusonia were the Romulan Empire. I mean, you can't even imagine how much shit the Reich stole from those guys. You wouldn't believe it if I told you.”

“Speaking of the Reich… can you tell me whatever happened to my friend? Is… is he alright?”

“How touching. She wants to know how her little boyfriend's doing. You don't even know his name, do you?”

“Well, can you tell me his name?”

“Can I? Yes. Will I? No. But I will tell you that his little spat with the purple alicorn was quite entertaining.”

She furrowed her brows. “I want to know how he's doing.”

“Hmm… You know what? How about I show you?”

The ground below her flashed blue, and when she snapped her gaze downward, she found herself chest-deep in a thick brown smoke, which filled the air with the stench of fire and brimstone. Looking for any sign of the Wanderer, she darted her eyes all around the hall, but there was nothing visible inside the smoke. It seemed like she'd have to wait until the smoke passed.

The first thing the Wanderer noticed when he woke up was the sweet scent of honey in the lightly clouded blue sky. Around him was a thick forest of pine trees, each one with a hole in its center, where honey oozed from top to bottom. When he brushed the ground with a leg, he felt smooth blades of grass, moistened with dew. Now a bit more acclimated, he brought himself up, and by the lack of weight on his body, he could tell right away that he was wearing no armor. Turning his head around both ways to see the rest of his body, he found that he was wearing a thin white cloak which danced in the breeze.

He looked to the front; saw a dirt trail running down the forest, and a soundly sleeping Princess Twilight in a similar white cloak, under a wooden sign, which read: “Welcome, ye brave souls who have earned your eternal keep.” His mind urged him to move forward, but his eyes kept coming back to Twilight. He couldn't help but want to talk to her; to know more about her. Reluctantly, he dragged himself over to her, until he was close enough to see the movement of her chest with each soft breath. As much as just watching the little filly sleep endeared him, he wanted her awake. Raising a hoof, then setting it on her belly, he made gentle pushes on her to urge her up.

“Wake up, little filly,” he said, “you have a big day ahead of you.”

After some few moments, Twilight outstretched her legs and let out a hearty yawn. She smacked her lips; opened her eyes slightly. When she saw that it was him who had woken her up, she darted up on her hooves and put on a menacing expression.

“YOU! You did this to me!” She pointed her horn at him, straining to cast some magical attack, but her horn did nothing. Yet, she remained unfettered. The Wanderer could only stare in indifference as she charged him and made flimsy hoof-strikes at his bulging chest, which left him unphased as they bounced harmlessly off it. “I hate you,” she shouted, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

Eventually, he grabbed her hoof with his own, and gave a concerned look into her anger-filled eyes as he set it down. Their gazes were locked for a while; he let his face give her his “heartfelt” apology.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Twilight began bawling, and wrapped her hooves around him in an embrace. “Wh-… why? Why did it have to come to this?” She paused, choking up. “I'll never get back to my friends now. I don't have anyone here, and I… I don't know what my friends are going to do without me.”

The Wanderer put a hoof on her backside, giving it a gentle rub. “Shh… it will all be okay, child. Death is a natural part of life. Be glad they did not have to witness it.”

“But my friends are never gonna see me again.”

“They have their memories of you. And they will remember you fondly, as a brave filly who fought and died for what she believed in. That is all you can ever ask for, really.”

She, having regained some of her composure, released him from her grip and looked into his eyes. “It didn't have to be this way, mister… what's your name?”

“Just call me 'Wanderer'.”

“Wanderer. It didn't have to be like this. You could have come with me to Equestria and helped me fix everything. Why did we have to fight?”

“Because we were at an impasse, and violence is often the only way to settle disputes. In my world, it is the most common way. I had no desire to hurt you.”

“But… but you killed Party Favor. You lied to me, and you killed him. How am I supposed to believe that your goals are just when your means are so cruel?”

He sighed. “The Wasteland is a cruel place, full of cruel folk. Often, the only way to fight a great evil is with another evil. And besides, you saw what the wastes had done to him. He was ready to go.”

“But you told me you did it without remorse.”

“When you have lived in the Wasteland as long as I have, your heart turns to stone out of necessity.”

Another tear left her eyes. “I'm so sorry, Wanderer. I'm sorry you had to spend your life there. When I escaped the Empire with my friends and asked Celestia about it. You know what she said?”

“Please tell.”

“She told me that although most unsavory folks in Equestria have good in them and are worth redeeming, there are a few who are so wrought with corruption that they have no hope of being saved; that the Wasteland is where those few are banished so that Equestria can remain pure, and that as the Wasteland was filled with the corrupt, it grew to become a corrupting force, itself. The underworld of pony civilization. A symbiosis of wickedness; Equestria's antithesis.”

“And yet, you would seek to salvage the unsalvageable?”

“I feel that it's my moral duty to fight evil wherever it manifests. Even there.”

“Then why were you so reluctant to fight me?”

“Because I sensed good in you, and I still do. Not outwardly, but deep down, hidden beneath all the layers of corruption that the Wasteland laid on you since birth. I thought I could talk that tiny speck of good out of its shell and make you see that what you were doing was wrong.”

“I see. And what gave you such a sense?”

“I just felt it, that's all.”

The Wanderer shook his head. “Now, child. You really aught to know better than to put all your stock on a gut feeling. It does not matter now, I suppose. We both ended up the same way, at the same place.”

Twilight turned her head, looking all around her to scan her surroundings. “What is this place, anyway?”

“This is the Hall of the Fallen. The Häl vom Välisch. A lush, green land of milk and honey. Those who come here are treated to fighting and feasting until the end of time.”

“Hold on. Fighting? What kind of afterlife forces you to fight forever?”

“Did you not enjoy the fight that we had, Miss Sparkle?”

“What? No! How can fighting be something that you enjoy? All you're doing is hurting others and getting hurt yourself. I only fought you because you made me so angry and there was no other way I was going to get to Starlight. Y-… you actually enjoyed that?”

“Any Imperial in his right mind would have. Fighting you was both an honor and a pleasure.”

“Maybe I should've brought Rainbow Dash with me. Something tells me you two would've gotten along pretty well.” She sighed. “Well, does everyone in the Wasteland come here when they die?”

“No. Only those who die in combat come here.” Twilight hung her head down in sorrow. “Those who die in any other way are sent down to the pits of hell, to spend eternity in fiery torment.”

“So nobody there even gets peace in death.” She looked back up to him. “If force is really what's needed to save them, then with Celestia's sanction, I would've fought with every ounce of my being.”

“And I do not doubt that you would have fought well, Miss Sparkle.” He motioned to the trail down the forest. “Come with me. Let us not make the Hall wait any longer.”

As they walked down the hall together, they had a real conversation for the first time ever. They spoke with each other about their different life experiences. Twilight told him about all the adventures she'd had with her five friends. How they'd first met and banded together to defeat the corrupted Princess, Nightmare Moon. How they'd recovered their friendships after they'd been torn asunder by the chaos god, Discord, and turned him to a motionless figure of stone, which he still remains to this day. How they'd overcome suspicion and paranoia to defeat the Changeling Queen, Chrysalis, and sent her back to her hive to lick her wounds and brood for a long time to come. How they'd inspired hope for the Crystal Empire and destroyed Sombra, the tyrant king who had been haunting them for millenia. And finally, how they'd remained strong in the face of despair, to face down and send the nefarious Tirek back to rot in the lowest depths of Tartarus. On a lighter note, she'd also told him about some of the little joys that she'd shared with her friends. The Wanderer found it fascinating, as it was a look into a psychology completely different from what he was used to. It was a genuine novelty for him to hear about altruism that wasn't beaten into a slave with a whip and biting scorn.

Eventually, they exited the edge of the forest, and in front of them laid a glistening bridge of solid emerald, arched over a roaring river of flowing milk and leading to a castle in the clouds fashioned entirely from gold, shining in the bright blue sky like the sun, itself. As both Twilight and the Wanderer marveled at the Hall's glory, the screech of a bird echoed downwards from the sky. Once their eyes snapped in that direction, they witnessed an alicorn black as the voids of space, riding down to them on a golden chariot pulled by the mighty wings of a giant golden eagle; to his sides, two Imperial mares of immense size, clad in winged suits of steel plate and riding chariots of silver, drawn by giant silver eagles. 'That is him,' the Wanderer thought to himself, 'the great Planetvoid, himself, in the flesh. What interest could he possibly have in us?' After the eagles' feet touched the ground, and the chariots ceased movement, the three disembarked from their chariots and came fourth to face Twilight and the Wanderer.

“Sir.” the Wanderer said as he executed an Imperial salute with a professional rigidity.

“At ease, Centurion,” said Planetvoid in his smooth voice that echoed with each syllable, sounding like many voices. “There is no need for that. Such formalities are reserved for the realm of the living.” He looked to Twilight. “And I see that you have brought an alicorn with you. Other than myself, I have not seen an alicorn since my banishment to the Wasteland so very long ago. Twilight Sparkle, I take it?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes. Twilight Sparkle. Princess of Friendship, loyal vassal of Princess Celestia.”

“I am not interested in your titles, young one. I am interested in your deeds, and your deeds are, indeed, extraordinary. It is an honor to have you in my Hall.”

“But what is Equestria going to do without me?”

“The same as it did before you,” he replied. “It is time you move on. This is your home now, and I have a place for you here that I believe is worthy of your exceptional character.”

“And what would that be?”

“I would like for you, child, to take a place in the ranks of the Valkyries.”

“Valkyries?” She looked to the Wanderer. “What's a Valkyrie?”

“Let him tell you,” the Wanderer replied.

“A Valkyrie,” Planetvoid said, “is a member of the personal guard of the head of the Hall, that being myself. The Great Lord, Wolfram, resides formless in that highest plane of the immaterium, the Eldritch. The plane between the Mundane and the Eldritch, Tartarus, where this Hall resides; I am the Great Lord's will made manifest in physical form in Tartarus, just as the Pillar of Justice in Wenn is His will made manifest in the realm of the living. The Reich defends the Pillar from earthly threats, just as the Valkyries defend me from demonic threats, since once the Lord's physical manifestation in a realm is destroyed, He no longer has presence in that realm.” He looked to the mares to his sides. “Introduce yourselves to her, please.”

“I am Fluffles,” said the first one, “loyal Valkyrie of the Prophet for one-hundred-fifty-two years. I would be honored to have you in our ranks.”

“And I am Grindstone,” said the second one, “loyal Valkyrie of the Prophet for twenty-seven years. I, too, would be honored to have you in our ranks.”

“Of course,” Planetvoid said, “I would not force you to become a Valkyrie. However, as I have no other spot reserved for you, there is only one other, far more painful alternative, which I would be saddened to see fall upon you. Please choose well.”

Twilight hesitated for a brief moment, then spoke, “Fine. I'll be a Valkyrie.”

“Excellent. You may mount my chariot and follow these two to the barracks, for proper initiation. Do not let that term, 'barracks', fool you, though. It is quite comfortable.” He motioned back to the chariots. “Go on, now. The Centurion and I must speak privately.”

With that, the two Valkyries led Twilight to the golden chariot, and after helping her mount it, they stepped atop their own chariots. At the shout of “Vörtz!” from Grindstone, the eagles of all three chariots ascended up into the sky and flew onwards, facing back from whence they came. After waiting for the chariots to fly out of eyeshot, Planetvoid shot his gaze back to the Wanderer.

“So,” said Planetvoid, “you are he who would burn my Reich to its foundations and build his own atop it.”

“That is correct,” the Wanderer replied.

“Shockingly, The Great Lord, abundant in His fickle wisdom, supports you in your endeavor.”

“Does He, now? Why would that be the case?”

“You may have been given a wrong impression of Him and His demeanor. Suffice it to say, He works in mysterious ways. Now, the Lord, again in His arbitrary wonder, has put a limit on the number of questions you may ask of me. Five, to be exact. You have used up one, so now, you have four left. Once your questions have expired, I will tell you what the Lord has planned for you, so that you may satisfy His will. Ask your second question.”

The Wanderer looked up into the sky, wondering what he wanted to know from the great Planetvoid. One can only imagine what sorts of answers he could provide. What insights. What thoughts. What otherwise unknowable facts. Testing the waters, he asked his second question: “What is the name which I was given at birth?”

“I have been forbidden from telling you your birth-name. Lord only knows why. Ask your third question.”

“Let me know the status of my mother, father, and any wives and children I may have had.”

“Very well. Father: Knapped Flint. Centurion, First Legion. Deceased, died in the Sixth Battle of River Styx Canyon in the Twelfth Crusade, at the age of eighty-nine. Currently resides in the Hall. Mother: Black Eyes. Deceased, died in honor duel at age one-hundred-forty-one. Currently resides in the Hall. First wife: Cotton Ball. Sired two sons. Currently lives in Sorkrunn at age ninety-two. Second wife: Quartz. Sired one daughter and one son. Currently lives in Brustworth at age eighty-six. First son: Bronze Sickle. Legionary, First Cohort, Second Legion. Deceased, died to his peers in Decimation at age forty. Currently burns in eternal hellfire. Second Son: Titanium Boot. Legionary, First Cohort, Third Legion. Deceased, died in the Battle of Hutten Hill in the Fourteenth Crusade at age thirty-seven. Currently resides in the Hall. Third son: Copper Hammer. Deceased, died in Initiation at age twenty-two. Currently resides in the Hall. Daughter: Shattered Bones. Currently lives in Brustworth at age forty-one. Ask your fourth question.”

“What are your thoughts on the latest Crusades?”

“Many believe them to be exercises in futility. This may be true, but only because of the sorry state of Imperial leadership. They have become decadent, preferring to go through the motions of leadership rather than actively engage in it, to the point where the Kaisers as of recent more closely resemble the degenerate Byzuntonian Prime Ministers than any proper Imperial autocrat. This decadence is represented well by that swine, Shattered Dreams, who lays claim to the staggering achievement of being too obese to fit in a suit of armor without falling deathly short of breath. They have failed to learn a crucial lesson of our history that goes back to the days of the First Reich: That stagnation leads to apathy, apathy leads to degeneration, and degeneration leads to ruin. Just as the First Reich did more than four-thousand years ago, the Second Reich rots from the inside out from the hubris of its leadership, which believes itself to be invincible for as long as it can contain itself within its own incestuous bubble and simply assume the form of leadership without adopting or even understanding its content. The Crusades of current only exist for the sake of having Crusades, because the Imperial leadership understands the nature of the Crusade on only the most superficial level. They know that war revitalizes the nation, but they do not know how or why, or even the point of such a revitalization in the first place. The Reich's failures against the Saracens is symptomatic of its loss of purpose. Were that to be fixed, all other major issues would follow. Ask your fifth question.”

Again, the Wanderer looked up to the sky. This last one needed to count. He listened to the breeze brushing against his ears, looking for answers within it. After some time, the wind gave him one. “What do you think will be the end of history?”

“To put it simply, total obliteration. But I assume you mean the end of history, as in the stage in the evolution of society at which there is no further evolution possible. However, this leads to stagnation, which, as I stated before, leads to ruin. Therefore, there can be no such end to history. I know you sought to destroy chaos and establish an eternal order, but the struggle against chaos is forever. The day the Third Reich falls to the assumption that its order is invulnerable and everlasting is the day it repeats the mistakes of the two which preceded it. In order to keep chaos at bay, one must remain ever vigilant, suppressing it as hard and as often as possible. Chaos is eternal and unrelenting, so those who would oppose it must also be such. You believe that enforcing a universal sameness on the world at large will achieve the end of history, but although that is a way of achieving it, it requires a hugely substantial amount of discipline and resources to sustain itself. If you seek to end history in this fashion, then you must commit to being its gatekeeper forever and for all time.”

The Wanderer hesitated. “But that would require eternal life. Unless I had that, I would have had no choice but to destroy every last shred of life on the planet.”

“I was getting to that.” He cleared his throat. “You have redeemed yourself in the eyes of the Great Lord. However, you have no place in the Hall for the time being. The time has come for you to return to the realm of the living, and finish what you started. Ten full Legions of centaurs, made from the stuff of the very mountains, themselves, will be yours to aid you in carrying out the Lord's will. Additionally, both you and your companion will be granted the Gift of Ascension. You will be alicorns, with new physical forms, immeasurable magical power, and complete immunity from aging and disease. For example, your friend will be able to remove marks within the radius of an entire city, and should she channel that magic through the Pillar, she will remove every mark in the Wasteland simultaneously. Your own power will also be quite formidable, but other than that, you are on your own. The Gift is a highly exclusive and prestigious honor. Do not waste it.”

“Of course.”

“And before you go, I must tell you one last thing.” He paused. “As I said before, the Great Lord works in mysterious ways. As He has decided to put the sword to my Reich, one can only guess when he will do the same to yours, or any Reich that may succeed it. Now, the Great Lord's word is law, and it is only right to serve Him whenever possible. However, I would not be shocked if a more unscrupulous Reich were to turn on Him and remove His influence for its own security and interests, and although I would strongly discourage this sort of betrayal, I would be completely understanding of it.”

The Wanderer nodded. “Understood.”

“Excellent. I wish you good luck and happy slaughter, Centurion.”

Taking a deep breath, he bid farewell to Planetvoid with an Imperial salute. After Planetvoid reciprocated the salute with his own, both stallions let their hooves fall back down on the ground, and a bolt of black lightning shot down on the Wanderer from Planetvoid's horn. As the thunder echoed in his ears, he was flung back into the dark purgatory that stood between the Hall and the mundane world.

Starlight watched as the smoke around her dissipated. Immediately below her, a corpse was present. This corpse was clad in that familiar plate armor, complete with the white bolts on the flank, and smell of seared flesh emanating from it. 'So that's it,' she thought to herself, 'he's really dead.' She filled her lungs with the dusty air, then expelled it, trying to expel her sadness in the process. After a moment of silence, she turned back to the voice. “How long is it until the Princess gets here?” she asked.

“There's no need to worry about that,” the voice replied, “he took care of her for you before he went.”

Starlight turned her head back to the corpse. 'That glorious stallion,' she thought. She lifted the visor on the corpse's helmet and put a hoof on the corpse's face, seeing if she could still feel some life from it. Although its eyes were still wide open and its mouth was agape, she felt no life on it. But she wouldn't accept his death just yet. Not while there was still something that could be done about it. Face stern, she turned back to the voice.

“I want him back,” she snapped.

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“But aren't you glad he isn't in your way anymore?”

“He wasn't in my way. He was the one who got me here. Give him back. Now.”

The voice chuckled. “You would make demands of a god?”

“I would. Now, give him back.”

“Hah! I like your moxy. Looks like bringing you here really wasn't a mistake. Okay, I'll bring him back. Just make sure you give him a proper welcome.”

A bolt of lightning boomed from the rock Starlight had dropped, onto the corpse. The corpse glowed a yellow aura, and emanated a blinding light as the stench in the air faded away. Starlight closed her eyes and turned her head, but she could still hear the humming of the light. It felt like an hour as she waited for whatever was happening to be finished. Once the humming ceased, she looked back to the body, and saw that its eyes had turned from its usual beige to a brilliant gold. She carried herself a couple meters back as the body fumbled back on its hooves and looked around it until its eyes locked into hers. They stared at each other for a while, until the body urged her forward, with seemingly no hostility in its eyes. It was him. It was really him, brought back to life.

“Wanderer!” Starlight exclaimed with a smile beaming with joy. She ran to him and hugged him, squeezing as tightly as she could. “Oh, Wanderer. I'm so glad you're here.”

The Wanderer took a deep breath, then put a hoof around her. “It is good seeing you too, Starlight.”

She took her hooves off him and backed off slightly to look closer at his eyes. It wasn't just an illusion; he really did have golden eyes now. She took a good look at the rest of his face, which showed much fewer wrinkles and a pure white coat to match his beard. Whatever happened, either in the battle or in his resurrection, it seemed to have removed many years from his face.  Then, she looked back into his eyes. Before her, they shined like the most illustrious Canterlot jewels, leaving her mesmerized. Whether this was from her amazement at watching the dead rise or genuine aesthetic wonder, she did not know, but neither did she care.

“You… your eyes…” she whispered. “They're so shiny…”

He blinked, and was quiet for a second. “You really need to get over your predilection for shiny things.”

“Just… just let me look at them.”

With magic, the Wanderer slammed his visor back down, then raised a hoof up to the side of her face for a backhoofed slap. “Snap out of it,” he said before he smacked Starlight squarely in the face.

Pain jolted from there to her entire head, and she temporarily lost awareness of her surroundings. After a dizzy, star-filled moment, she shook her head violently to make herself lucid again.

Starlight glared up at the Wanderer with an angry grimace. “Hey! That hurt!"

She lit her horn and raised up her own hoof, and after winding up all her strength with muscle augmented by magic, she struck the Wanderer up from the edge of his jaw, filling the air with the ring of vibrating steel. They both were silent until the ringing stopped, and the Wanderer looked back to Starlight.

“Good hit," he said. "Feel better now?”

She puffed. “Yeah. Sorry. I don't know why you had to hit me so hard, though.”

“I apologize. Sometimes, I forget how fragile you Equestrians are. No hard feelings?”

She chuckled. “No hard feelings.”

“I hate to break up this little reunion,” the voice from the hall said, “but there are other matters for us to discuss.”

Starlight brushed a hoof on the ground. “Oh. Right. So, what about that thing we discussed earlier? What's going on with that?”

“Oh, that? Your pile of walking rubble is already outside. Don't worry about it. There's only one more thing for me to do before I send you off…”

Two more bolts of lightning unleashed from the rock that was once the Gem of Mount Athon; one onto Starlight, and another onto the Wanderer. Starlight watched herself sink into a red abyss, as her veins filled with boiling ichor and her skin bubbled with tingling fluid. The maelstrom of swirling liquid aether filled her ears with its pulsing rhythms. The sides of her spine pulled themselves apart in opposite directions; they grew into two new, complex appendages which protruded from her back and stretched outward, trying to touch the sky, yearning to feel the wind brush between their feathers. Then her entire body stretched and pulled in all directions. Her bones and hair grew longer. Her muscles grew larger. Her face contoured to sharper features, and her horn grew taller and at a finer point. She felt her lungs expand wider than ever before, with ice-cold air entering them and leaving her entire physical self trembling with the sheer, raw energy the air injected into it. Drowning in sensations, she lost herself in the moment until the flood eventually passed away, and she found herself back in that bronze hallway, breathing rapid breaths.

Her eyes drew down to the floor, then to the wall, then to her own body. She looked at the majestic pair of wings she was given, and gradually drew her gaze downward. The leather suit she wore had become a white toga made of shining satin, embellished with flowing decorative golden stitching. From around her neck, a purple satin cape outlined with golden thread hugged her back, and a diamond necklace in the shape of the equal mark hung down over her chest on a golden chain. Her hooves were given golden shoes encrusted in purple sapphires, and on her head, a solid gold crown of woven thorny branches was adorned.

She looked up to the Wanderer beside her, who was looking down at her, examining her as she was examining him. He was a great deal bigger and even bulkier than he was before. The glistening plates of his armor were grown to three times their thickness, and they were as purely white as his coat and the wings that now rested on his sides covered by a white metal outer frame. The saber-toothed skull that was once glued on his helm was now fused with it and made from that same white metal, with golden glass covering the eyes, and a plume of roaring fire on the top. A shimmering cape of gold draped down his back, and on his armor's flank was stamped a blazing golden symbol of equality.

“Now,” the voice from the hall boomed, “I have bestowed upon you alicornhood, and marked you for greatness. You have been blessed by the mighty Wolfram with divine power and authority, and in my name, you will use it to butcher all those who stand in my way. Step out of Mount Athon. Let my will be done.” The last word echoed, with no further word coming from down the hall. The two newly ascended alicorns looked to each other for a moment, then nodded, and started their way out. Their journey had only just begun.

A snowy blizzard obscured the view from outside the cave with its flurry of flakes. The deafening booms of thunder had spooked Sucker Pop into making a desperate sprint out of the cave, which had driven themselves into her brain like picks on a soft block of ice. She'd just barely saved herself from falling down the mountain after noticing the absence of a floor connecting the exit to the rest of the trail. However, the whistling of the breeze dulled her fear as she let her damaged mind meld into it. She'd been at peace for a good long time, but suddenly, she heard familiar voices behind her. Once she looked back, she saw two behemoths of ponies, one made of white metal, another covered in satin, both sporting both horns and wings, approaching her. The one that caught most of her attention, however, was the lavender one that looked remarkably similar to Momma Starlight. Then it hit her. These weren't just really big ponies, these were monsters. Vicious, flesh-eating monsters, and one of them ate her mommy! An infantile fury consumed her. This was a crime she simply could not excuse. She brandished her teeth in a grimace, and charged the monsters as she shouted: “YOU ATE MY MOMMY, YOU BIG MEANIES.” However, at the golden glow of the white one's horn, her legs were frozen in place and she was levitated close to them.

The lavender one giggled. “Oh, no, no, no, you silly little filly,” she said in Starlight's voice, “I didn't eat her. I am her.” She looked to the white one. “Isn't that right, Wanderer?”

“It is,” replied the white one in Master's voice, except one octave below his normal bass, before looking back to Sucker Pop. “Do you not recognize your own mother, child?”

“Oh, yeah?” Sucker Pop said, looking to the lavender one. “Wew if you my mommy, den wat town I come fwom?”

She replied, “Ponyville, sweetie.”

That was the reassurance Sucker Pop needed. The anger inside her subsided; that dumb little smile showed back up on her face. The glow on Master's horn faded, and she felt her hooves touch the ground. She exclaimed “Mommy!” and squeezed Starlight with a warm fondness as she showered her face with kisses. Starlight smiled and laughed, then put a hoof around her before urging her to get back down. Sucker Pop looked to the white one; her smile shrunk as she found that the glass over his eyes covered the beige that would've denoted her master. That Momma Starlight was with him suggested that he was likely the right one, but she still felt somewhat uneasy. She had to know for sure.

“Siw, can you take off hewmet pwease?”

He replied, with slight bitterness in his voice, “You are not to make requests of me.”

“B-but siw…”

He strided his way beside her and shoved her down, sending her crashing down on the ground. She tried to get up, but she found her legs magically bound once more, and her head being crushed under his hoof. Her vocal cords felt like they were being torn by her anguished screams.

“You barbarian scum,” he barked. “Do not forget your place, you worthless little whelp. You are a slave – one that I purchased with my own money – and I will have your complete and total obedience. Do you understand?”

Starlight narrowed her eyes and scowled in anger. “Let her go.”

The Wanderer looked to Starlight. “You spoil her. I will let her go when she affirms her servile state.” He looked back to Sucker Pop. “Now, do you understand, child?”

“Yes, yes,” cried Sucker Pop, “I undewstand, I undewstand!” She felt his hold loosen, but she still felt a sharp pain from where he laid his hoof.

“Good,” he said calmly. “Now, apologize to your mother for the grief that you have caused her.”

“I'm sowwy, Stawight. I'm reawwy reawwy sowwy!”

“Very good.” He released his hold and removed the magical bindings from her legs. She continued laying on the ground, panting and waiting for the edge of the throbbing pain in her head to dissipate. “Have you learned your lesson now, child?”

She took a few more breaths. “Y-yes, mastew.”

Starlight looked to Master with a deadpan expression. “Was that really necessary?”

“It was,” he replied.

“Why?”

“When you spare the whip, you spoil the slave.”

“But we're supposed to be abolishing slavery.”

“That does not mean we should not discipline our subordinates.”

“True, but Sucker Pop is cute. She's like a little puppy. I like her. Look, I know corporal punishment is often necessary, but can you please not overdo it with her? Just because the Empire is stuck in the Ice Age doesn't mean you have to be.”

He hesitated. “Ice Age?”

“Pre-Diarch times. Look, it's not important. Just try not to be too nasty to the filly, okay?”

“Hmph. Fine. If it really bothers you that much, then I will try to keep it to a minimum.”

She smirked. “Alright. Let's go now. I wanna see what our army looks like.”

As Sucker Pop's breathing settled down, she listened to her two owners' hoofsteps around her and to the entrance of the cave. She felt the urge to hum a soothing song to herself, but she didn't want Master hurting her anymore, so she just listened and closed her eyes and waited for further instruction. The hoofsteps stopped in short order.

“Wow,” said Starlight, “look at that. So many of them… and in such an orderly formation! But why is it arranged like a checkerboard?”

“You see the ones with the crossbows?” the Wanderer asked.

“Yeah.”

“A lot of it has to do with them. Another lot of it has to do with traversing hilled terrain. It will be apparent when you see them in action.”

“Alright.”

“But you see, this is the wrong formation. This one is for fighting, not for marching.” He took a deep breath in to bellow his orders: “LEGIÖNEN. VÖRMATIÖN VON MARSCURTZ. VÖRTZ VEST. HÄST.”

“Now, do you really need Reichschpeak for that?” Starlight asked as the outside thundered with the sounds of the marching of legions.

“That is how I am used to giving orders. Why? Do you take issue with it?”

“Not terribly so. It's just such an ugly language is all. Really rough on the ears.”

“That is how it was meant to be since its inception.”

“What? You mean you intentionally made your invented code-language ugly? Why?”

“To discourage non-Imperials from wanting to learn it, or to eavesdrop on a conversation where it is being used. There is also an intimidation factor involved.”

“Hm.” There was a moment of silence, until she spoke again: “That charred thing over there. That wouldn't be Twilight Sparkle's corpse, would it?”

“It would.”

She giggled. “You sure do love putting the 'over' in 'overkill', don't you?”

“We have a saying in the Empire: The excessive kill is the virtuous kill. And additionally, I have a plan concerning her corpse, and a small artifact I picked up from Lesbos. The child-princess will be useful to us even from beyond the grave.”

“Oh, do go on...”

“Celestia has strong emotional bonds with her alicorn ascendants, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“If we were to send this corpse to the good Princess with a provoking letter written so that it looked to have come from the Kaiser, we could have ourselves a useful ally on the other side of the River Styx. That last part is important.”

“But you said before that the Equestrian army was all quantity and no quality. They'll be bottlenecked at Brustworth Bridge. And you saw how well that worked out in Lesbos.”

“You forget that the Imperial Legions are a professional and highly skilled shock force. They function best on the offensive, and the Equestrians would be cutting them off from their primary sources of metal ores, in Goldberg, and monetary funds, in Brustworth. If anyone will be bottlenecked, it will be the Empire.”

“And if the Empire manages to drive them back and gain ground south of the bridge…”

“… which is exactly what I intend to let happen…”

“You know, I think I'm starting to get where you're going with this. I like it.”

“I figured you would. Now, all I need is a paper, a pen, and some wax.” He turned his head to Sucker Pop. “Slave!” he barked, “get over here.”

Sucker Pop opened her eyes and bolted up on her hooves. As she galloped to her master, she saw Momma Starlight levitating a charred alicorn body from the outside to inside the cave, and the three aforementioned things from the load on her own back. By the time she was within leg's length of her master, Starlight had already finished gathering the things and gave them to him. She waited as he laid the paper on one of the walls and wrote on it. While he was writing, Sucker Pop looked to Starlight with a frown and sad eyes.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Can you sing to me?”

“Hmm…” she looked to the Wanderer. “Can I sing to her?”

“Wait until I am finished, please. I would do well without distraction.”

While she waited, Starlight stroked her hoof down her short mane and smiled to her. That smile, motherly and soothing as it was, made Sucker Pop forget the pain in her head entirely. She couldn't help but rub her cheek against Starlight's neck, as Starlight's increased size didn't allow her to reach her face. Eventually, the Wanderer finished the letter and levitated it over to Starlight, who stared into its contents with a smirk on her face. Once finished, she looked back up.

“I like it,” she said, “but what's the wax for?”

The Wanderer's horn glowed, and a bag was lifted off Sucker Pop's back and between the two alicorns. The tie which closed the bag shut was undone, and once the bag opened, an Imperial seal was extracted from it and presented to Starlight. After a moment of observing it, Starlight folded the letter, melted the wax onto the center of the folded paper with her magic. With a devious grin on her face, she pushed the seal against the wax, forming the image of the growling wolf which denoted the mark of the Kaiser. Then, again wasting no time, she made the glow on her horn more intense, and made both the letter and the corpse disappear in bright flashes of teal.

A grand, toothy smile stretched across Starlight's face as her eyes grew wide and her body trembled in a manic bliss. She said, “Oh, what a rush! It's happening. It's. Really. Happening! I really, really just wanna throw myself into a crazy fit of laughter. But… it's so cheesy. Oh, what do I do, what do I do?”

The Wanderer gave Starlight's back a hearty rub. “Embrace it, my dear. Moments like this do not happen often in life. Treat yourself to the cathartic release it will give you. Nobody will know except me.”

“Alright. Here goes.” Her nostrils flared as a strong stream of air filled her chest. She unleashed a laugh so lively, so bombastic, so delightfully and self-indulgently insane, that she seemed to have transcended into a higher state of being. Sucker Pop felt a deep joy in her heart, seeing her mother so happy, and she couldn't help but think Master felt the same way. In the biting chill of the air at the top of Mount Athon, it made her warm. After some time, the laughter settled down, and still smiling, Starlight sighed.

The Wanderer nudged Starlight's side. “It felt good, did it not?”

“I loved it!” Starlight replied.

He gave her back a rub. “I knew you would.”

“Sing to me now, mommy?” Sucker Pop asked Starlight.

“Oh, sweetie, of course!” She looked to the Wanderer. “You can make us a platform, right? Then we can stand on it and get down faster.”

“I will.” His horn glowed again, and the cave ruptured as he tore a piece of the mountain out, and moved it in front of the cave entrance. It was a square, twenty meters by twenty meters, and about as flat as one could get out of a giant cone-shaped rock. The three embarked on the platform and stood in the center.

Once they started descending, Starlight looked to Sucker Pop and began to sing softly: “Life is so grand in Our Town. We're always filled with cheer. We never have to look around to know that we're all here.”

The Wanderer said, “I did not know you had such a marvelous singing voice.”

Starlight chuckled to herself. “Thank you,” she replied, then continued: “In Our Town, in Our Town, we don't have to wait, to find out that our destiny is just to emulate.” Next Chapter: Chapter 16 Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 39 Minutes