Chapter 15: End of my World

"FUCK!"

Cantor cried in a dramatic fit of hooves. He punched the re-enforced window so hard it cracked slightly around the impact - as well as giving the stallion's hoof a throbbing ache in addition.

"Shoot it." He ordered to Faith, who was watching the scene unfold from the doorway, a look of damp sorrow and pity on her face.

"What?" She asked, confused, lifting her head slightly as if threatened.

"Just shoot the fucking window!" He barked again, to which Faith promptly lifted her foreleg and fired a bolt into the centre of Cantor's strike, finishing his job and shattering the window into millions of shiny crystals.

Cantor bent down and scooped up a hooful of the shards and threw them at the escape craft. "Fuck you!" He yelled, turning around and picking up another mass of glass and hurling it over the shuttle. The broken pieces struck the metal body panels and bounced off, twinkling like crystals as they fell to the trench below and rattled down the banked walls.

He snorted and stormed back over to the control room with a limp, muttering with venom. "God damn fucking monkeys; built this place. Fucking safety protocols, dick head stupid bloody... uh, shitty windows..." He reached the centre of the room and stood behind the large console looking out over the smashed window, staring at the spacecraft until his anger re-surfaced. "Complete shit idea of an 'adventure.' Haven't we had enough pain!?" He growled, coiling his foreleg to beat down on the controls, the limb hesitating at its peak. "...Actually, no, that's important..." He mused with disappointment as he relaxed his leg: afraid of smashing something important.

Faith stepped closer to intervene. "Cantor, calm down. It's not like both of us are still stuck here." She said softly, but still holding an air of caution. "It's still not the 'end of the world.'"

"No, but it's the end of my world," Cantor replied, tautness in his tone. "Because I know it's me who's got to stay here." He explained with an emptiness that was somehow filled with reluctance, tapping the symbol denoting sacrifice over his flank.

"Bullshit!" Faith spat, sounding offended. "We're gonna sit and come to a conclusion about this. Stop talking out of your ass." She bore a thoughtful frown as she began to step forward with her eyes lowered. "Literally." She said darkly, raising her focus from the floor momentarily before dropping it once more.

Cantor began bitterly -- not intending to sound as harsh as he did. "Faith, listen,"

But Faith cut him off before he could say any more, and also shocked the alicorn into silence. "NO, YOU LISTEN!" She screamed - so loud it looked as if she hurt herself. Cantor reserved his right to keep silent: an order was an order... "We could never have gotten this far if it wasn't for you -- regardless of the fact that it's now only just us left." She had tears in her eyes, but it was due to the fact that she was working herself up with volume rather than what she was actually saying. "You helped me get the guns from the ship, you tested that first creature we came to to see if it was a threat..."

The pegasus continued, animating her voice with her forelegs and the occasional buck of frustration over the unfairness of the situation. "...You stayed behind to fight off that giant motherfucker so we could escape. It's all on you; this day. And if you had your magic, I'm certain there'd be more than just us two standing here in this room." She motioned a connecting hoof between herself and Cantor before sighing in defeat. "And yet, we'd still be having this same debate..."

Cantor's expression darkened; his brow fell and he merely turned away from Faith. "No we wouldn't..." He had been paying attention to what the pegasus had said, and he appreciated it beyond measure. Regardless, he was stubborn to his virtue, and let out a grumbling sigh as he turned and tried to figure out the controls on the large panel beside him.

Suffering the rejection, a deep scowl grew on Faith's face, and she ended up shaking with anger.

"Hey!" She barked to Cantor, and as he slowly turned with that same desolate expression, he had just enough time to raise his eyebrows in alarm as Faith's coiled foreleg unsprung, and her rock-hard hoof struck Cantor right on the end of the nose.

With a confused, but mostly pained gasp, the stallion stumbled backwards, clutching at his face as fresh blood ran down his foreleg from his bleeding nostrils.

"Oh, what, you..." Cantor started, disorientated more from the confusion and surprise the punch carried rather than its force. "What the fuck!?" He gasped with a stagger in his sentence.

After a moment's groaning, Cantor's eyes widened in panic as he gave the nose a slight twist. "Oh... Oh, shit!-" He started, trying to pry any emotion other than cold detachment from the mare's eyes with his scared and unsettled look. "I... think you broke it!" He relayed, sounding offended, if indeed, a little more confused...

"It's because you were being stupid. And I wanted to get you to listen to me!" Faith spat back viciously.

"Well why didn't you just shout?" Cantor replied upholding his exasperation, still holding his bleeding nose. "O- or you could have at most slapped me like some of my other friends do when they want my attention!"

Faith lowered her gaze, and she hid a smirk as she replied. "Yeah, well... This time you were being exceptionally fucking stupid!"

The stricken alicorn fell silent and looked to the floor. He wasn't entirely 'scared', however felt a substantial distance from Faith in terms of authority - and not for the first time that day, either... He sniffed wetly and wiped his nose along the back of his foreleg, hardly noticing a difference in the limb's bloody camouflage as his own blood mixed with countless others'.

"...Sorry." Faith quietly apologised after a less-than comfortable pause. She sounded saddened - but whether it was by cause of the situation or her actions, it was hard to tell... Cantor didn't ask.

"It's alright." Cantor said an a voice struggling to hold back accompanying tears. Then, after a pause of reconsideration, "Well, actually, it's not. But I forgive you... How's that sound?"

Faith raised her eyes and huffed a smirk. She could only hold this temporary optimism before recalling her situation. She started weakly. "W- well... what do we do now...?" She asked with clear apprehension.

Cantor frowned in response. "Are you putting this on me now?" He replied harshly. "Are you asking me to make this decision?"

"No, that's why I said 'we'." Faith countered offensively, returning the heavy look. She breathed gruffly and shook her head as if to expel the constricting feelings squeezing her mind. "Look at the facts, Cantor..." She said with utter emptiness. "Me being in this condition, I don't think I'll last another day... And I don't mean in terms of fighting -- at all."

Cantor agreed, but he didn't say. He just lifted his intense eyes to Faith and stared with his own haunted reverence.

"Cantor..." The pegasus decreed with a frightened voice. She was strong, and if it weren't for his skill at tracing the subliminal emotion behind a pony's words, Cantor wouldn't have been able to tell; she was far too proud to admit it. And to be honest, that was why Cantor liked her so much.

"Cantor, I... I think you should leave on that ship." She slowly motioned with her head towards the sleek shuttle, the long bangs of blonde hair hanging over her face waving to the craft as she did so.

"What!?" Cantor retorted in exasperation - his one-track mind blocking out any logic. "But... that's what I'm supposed to do: sacrifice. After all the ponies that have died today when I couldn't help them, this one time I get a chance to save a life - like I was meant to do from the start, you expect me to just leave?"

Faith stared at him with sorry and blatant eyes. "Yes." She plainly said. "I think you've become so absorbed with this idea of being some kind of hero, that you can't see the logic in the situation."

Cantor looked, in a submissive light, offended. "I was never trying to be a hero..." He said softly - not so deep-down, he knew he was lying. He didn't ask for praise when his valiance shone, nor did he feel cheated when none was given. However, when told he was some kind of hero, the young alicorn grew excited beyond measure: like the elation for being recognised as the one who helped out was so great it was a drug.

Faith shook her head and smiled. "Don't lie to me." She said with a quirky grin. "Who doesn't want to be a hero? Regardless of whether you expect people to like you or not, heroism is always a great thing to have as an aspiration." Cantor responded with a meek grin and a mild blush: she could see right through him. "Now, what I need you to do, is use that great sense of direction you've got to get yourself home, and when you do, tell everyone about what happened here. Let them know how much suffering was endured so that the families of the ones who've died can get at least some sense of comfort that their loved ones were brave, and died fighting."

Cantor's expression softened into sorrow. "...Faith..." He breathed, knowing one of the most horrible 'goodbyes' of his life was about to play. "Are you certain you-"

"I'm done, Cantor." Faith interjected gently. "I didn't want to say anything, but... I can sort of 'feel' my own life slipping away. It's so strange, and to be honest... I'm scared as hell right now." She sunk to her haunches with a slightly displaced chuckle and closed her eyes. "Even if by some miracle I make it to see Equestria again, I can never hope for a normal life: the things I've seen and done are gonna haunt me forever." She weakly peered up at Cantor, the smile undying on her face. "I'm not like you: my mind's not as strong. I know for a fact what happened here will haunt you for years, but eventually, you'll learn to live with it - I wont..."

Cantor could do little more than stare and listen in awe: the mare in front of him was sacrificing herself to allow him another (albeit small) chance at salvation. Never had he felt so small, so powerless, and so honoured at the same time...

Cantor unfastened his saddlebag and took out the wrapped Peripharous crystal. He planted it on top of the centre console and began to unwrap it.

Faith looked on quizzically. "What are you doing?" She asked, stretching her neck to try and get a better view.

Cantor quietly watched his hooves work. Then, calmly, and with an odd sense of closure, he said, "I'm leaving this here."

"What?" Faith asked curtly with a frown. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"Look, Faith," Cantor began, "This stone is some kind of weird material that absorbs and emits magical energy... Now when Celestia took me to, as it were, 'fill it up', for some reason, it brought out the worst in me." He explained himself under a neutral light: as if reviewing himself rather than telling Faith the story.

"What do you mean?" The pegasus asked, dreary, but curious.

"Remember that thing I said about unicorns having a darker, more magically exempt side to their personality?" He asked, recalling the time where he blasted a hallway filled with the swarm of creatures. The memory was like a blur: a blip - it seemed like it had happened so long ago now, but had happened so fast. "Well..." He continued, pausing unwrapping the stone from it's soft cotton tomb. "...That sort of happened when, uh... when I was... 'connected' with this stone."

Faith watched silently - she was following, even if it did appear as though she were struggling to sit up straight.

"Basically, the power contained in this stone is so dark, so evil..." He turned and stared at the bundle of cloth covering the crystal and licked his lips. "And so powerful... that it would serve the perfect candidate for a weapon of mass destruction: capable of wiping out an entire country - and then some."

Faith's response to this news was a shocked, but reserved "Oh..."

"You know why I don't want it anywhere near me?" Faith raised her eyebrows in silent response. "It's because with how I've been lately, I don't trust myself not to be the kind of pony who would use a weapon like that." He spoke coldly, and as he looked at Faith, he could tell she saw a similar chill in his eyes.

Faith looked Cantor in the eyes, trying to gauge his true intentions; whether he was merely saying these things for effect - whatever odd purpose it would serve. "Could you do it?" She asked slowly, speaking softly as the alicorn turned his attention shamefully to the mass wrapped in cloth. "Could you honestly and knowingly do something like that - to all the living things there? She could see the workings of Cantor's mind simply through the intense stare he was giving the stone, his hooves placed either side of the parcel like he was psychicly interrogating it.

"I know you're thinking about the griffins." Faith stated with a tone thick with concern. Cantor upheld his silence, but intensified his thoughtful frown. "You've probably heard what they've done to ponies in the past - I have..." She dropped her head with the distressing images that quickly came to mind, and when she looked back up, Cantor was looking at her with questioning eyes: listening intently to her take. Faith adopted a fierce brow with the next words she spoke. "No pony has the right to condemn thousands - millions of lives for old crimes - especially when those millions include innocents. I thought you would know this better than anyone." Her comment ended on a sour note, but regardless, Cantor understood, and he nodded slowly in silent agreement.

"You're right." He simply stated, his mood quickly darkening. "...But you're wrong about me." Faith's expression lifted into confusion, and she sat up slightly for the debate. "Obviously you don't know enough about me to know that I'm quick to stupid and violent decisions." He was speaking somewhat quietly, but the temper in his tone was clear. "I don't know how to use this thing to like... amplify my power or, use it as some kind of... bomb, but I'll find out given the motivation. And recently, that kind of 'motivation' has been all too available."

Cantor glared at Faith, but his outward angst was undoubtedly coming from something deep inside him - something he, himself knew was there, but could not tell what it was or what it wanted. This made him afraid, paranoid... Quick to anger. "So yes, Faith, I could 'do something like that.' I'd regret it, and I'd know I'd regret it whilst I was doing it - but it wouldn't stop me; not even slow me down." He grew agitated at himself for saying such things. But what really made his blood boil was that he meant it, and once again, didn't know why...

Not wanting to take his rage out on the weakened mare beside him, and his current injuries made killing himself if he stomped on his own hoof a risk, Cantor targeted the only other entity in the room worth mentioning. He turned to the wrapped crystal. "...Ever since I touched this thing in Celestia's lab, I've felt like complete shit. Hardly anything excites me like it used to - and the slightest problem just pisses me off so fucking much."

Cantor was getting frustrated, and Faith could sense the growing danger of the situation with every passing second.

With heated malice, Cantor focused his outrage on the small, obscured lump of mineral. "I wish I'd never agreed to this: Equestria's not prepared for this kind of travel yet. Hell, if I hadn't said I'd do it, we wouldn't even be here!" The stallion developed an unfathomable hatred for both himself and the Peripharous crystal, turning back to the stone with renewed resentfulness. "I wish they had never even found this stupid fucking rock!" With a malicious grunt, Cantor swiped at the bundled crystal, sending it and the cloth around it sailing through the air.

Faith ducked as the projectile launched over her head, but quickly jumped to her hooves when the stone broke free of its fabric prison and began lashing the room with thick tendrils of intense violet energy, connecting with all the electrical devices and producing crackling sounds.

Cantor and Faith had just enough time to cry "Oh, crap!" in unison as the crystal struck the wall harbouring much of the sensitive equipment and all the dials and screens flared into life. The stone rolled down the front of the instruments and hit the floor with a sharp and finite clatter. Its activity seemed to stop, but for a few seconds afterwards, an occasional lick of purple lightning would run along the face of the electrical boards.

A moment passed, and the Peripharous crystal did nothing. Cantor and Faith waited for a sign of life, but all that the stone did was sit there on the floor steaming, its mild glow illuminating a small area of the floor around it. It filled the air with the same feeling experienced shortly after a pony rages out of their oppression, leaving the loved ones around staring in shocked silence. The two equines simply stood and stared at the stone, one not daring to look to the other in fear of somehow being attacked by the smouldering crystal.

Their attention was only captivated for a short moment, though, as soon, a refined, feminine voice manifested from the speakers in the room, and a hauntingly familiar image appeared on the large display screen beside the controls.

"...Encrypted coordinates received," The female spoke with an oddly present sense of benevolence in it monotone voice. "Uploading stellar route to [THIRD PARTY CRAFT] in Tower B launch bay. Coordinates: zero, seven, seven, six, zero, two..." The unnervingly fluid robot voice rattled five long sets of numbers off to the ponies' uncomprehending ears. The minutes-long experience barely felt like seconds, however, as the ponies were entranced by the rotating image on the large screen.

After finally reaching the end of her excessively particular set of directions, the disembodied voice continued, repeating the message heard inside Christian's ship. "Error: on-board ignition system malfunction on-board [THIRD PARTY CRAFT]. A repair technician has been notified. Alternatively, emergency launch protocols available from Tower B flight traffic chief's centre console." And once again, "Have a nice day."

The audio cut off with a deep 'thump', and simultaneously, a bright, beacon-like light began to flash above, what was quite comically, a big red button, its soft rubber surface intermittently illuminated by the similarly coloured bulb just above it. Despite the absence of the somewhat unsettling voice, the screen stayed on, and continued to display what was undoubtedly a slowly revolving Equestria.

"..." Cantor moved his lips, but no sound came forth. He swallowed his bewilderment, sucked in a breath, and tried again. "...How the hell..." He felt as though that was enough - it was, but he was sure he needed to keep talking to avoid succumbing to the fortuity of the situation. "That's Equestria." He stated, still in shock.

Faith gave a single, steady nod and answered with a similar attitude in her tone. "...Yeah."

There was no way it couldn't be: the thick band of ocean separating a vast polar desert sitting atop an unending landscape bisected only by a gargantuan network of lakes and impossible rivers was far too similar to the equine planet to be mere coincidence. It still held all the beauty from when it was first viewed by the crew of explorers - maybe even moreso now since it was a direct link to salvation.

Cantor made a point of breathing again and spoke. "I think the crystal somehow let the computers know where it came from."

Faith showed she was following along by finishing the stallion's remark. "...And it's made them set the ship to automatically fly back home..." She added with awe - not an entirely proud or excited variant of the feeling; still, not particularly shameful, either.

Before, the odds of navigating the way back home were basically nothing. However, now they were definite; and the thought of this insured salvation was so tantalising, yet so immeasurably cruel and contorted, that both ponies could turn to each other once again and tell exactly what the other was thinking.

Regardless of this mutual understanding, Cantor, for whatever reason, felt the need to vocalise it. "Whichever one of us goes back, we'll need to be the bearer of bad news for-" He turned back to the display of his home: the subject of his comment, "The whole world..." He said with eyebrows raised in alarm.

Faith attempted, when all else failed, an approach to humour. She laughed, "Sorry about that, bud." She said with a smile, putting a hoof on Cantor's shoulder.

Still with a fog of bafflement lingering in his mind, Cantor returned a quizzical look to Faith. "Why are you so dead-set on sending me back?" He asked; not with such an acute sense of denial, this time. "I mean... I never expected to be able to get back on my own: it was as if we were both going to die, just not together - or at least not both here." Faith tilted her head a little. The situation had grown lighter with the prospect of 'home' being the topic, but there was still a great issue at hoof.

Cantor looked over his shoulder to the shiny craft. "...But now that thing can definitely get one of us home, why do you still want me to leave instead of you?"

Faith sighed heftily as she forced herself to fall into that sombre, heavy persona yet again. "It's because," She looked like she struggled to voice the next words, however the grey mare was really only trying to find the best way to say what she meant without making herself feel too bad. "...It's because you have something to live for." She held up a hoof before Cantor could interject. "Sure, I could be happy back home... No doubt I'll be decommissioned if I wanted to: given somewhere nice to live and enough money to live off from Celestia, but... There are just some things I'd have to carry around forever..."

Faith gave another sigh. She didn't enjoy this, but as she spoke, she helped herself realise takes of the situation she wasn't even aware of before. "L- like you, for a start. I'd have to live the rest of my life knowing that the only pony who's ever cared about me - truly... loved me, is somewhere I can't get to, and I'll never see him again." She had started crying again, though what was odd was that she only realised when she felt the all-too familiar cold trickle on her cheek. "I know what you said about choosing Twilight over me and shit, and I'd be lying if I said I was even the slightest bit happy about it, but regardless, that feeling was there.

"And also," Faith continued, another few tears streaking her scarred cheeks. "If I ever did find a stallion who actually 'loved' me, I couldn't ever have a family: a 'proper' one." As she spoke, for whatever reason, the pain circling the bullet-wound that had penetrated deep into her belly flared up again, as if to re-enforce her own point - even if it was only her who could feel it.

Faith winced and her back legs buckled a little as the pain pulsed dimly, but deeply, yet she didn't fall - only continued to make her point. "And overall, all the ponies we've seen killed by those monsters are going to haunt me forever..." She shook her head as the gruesome images flashed vividly in her mind even now, as she closed her eyes in pained reverence.

Her demeanour changed dramatically from pitiful to ferocious as she remembered another side to the situation. "Also," She stated loudly, not quite at a shout, but a voice filled with heat, nonetheless. "Who the hell's going to look after that kid of yours? Yeah, sure, it'll have it's mom, but imagine how she'll feel when that question is asked when they're old enough to ask it." Cantor's eyes widened as his jaw dropped slightly - this point was hitting hard. "Mommy," Faith began, raising her voice enough to displace herself, but not sound silly. "Where's my daddy?"

Cantor closed his eyes and winced, turning away slightly. He knew that would hurt, but the feeling roused by the statement was something else.

"Imagine how that'd make her feel, Cantor. What would she say?" Faith pressed on tenderly. "And your friends, too. I remember the stories you told be about them: to get on that rocket and go home would be like personally hurting every single one of them." She noticed tears pooling around Cantor's eyelids, and could see he was trying not to cry. "...You can't expect me to do that, Cantor. And if you do, then you have no right to put sacrifice to your name."

The pegasus finished with a curt, relieving exhale. She cleared her throat and took several calming breaths. When she had her emotional faculties in check, she returned her attention to Cantor, who definitely looked worse for wear.

He stared silently and shook his head. "...I honestly don't know what to say." He replied quietly - almost at a whisper.

"Don't try and think." Faith answered for him, sitting down and unstrapping the belt around her foreleg. She unbuckled it and caught it as it fell. She stood and stared deeply into it for a long moment before presenting it to the alicorn, who looked at it quickly before returning his eyes to Faith's and silently questioned her.

"All you need to say," Faith started, an oddly serine smile on her face. "Is that you're sorry. And that everypony fought, and died bravely trying to protect each other." Her smile grew to a unique juxtaposition of happiness, peace, and crippling sorrow. "And... privately, tell Celestia that Faith was thankful to have been able to grow up in her care, and that she loved her like a mother."

Faith extended the band further, and Cantor respectfully took it, tucking it into his mane - (outside of the situation, briefly, he still wondered where things placed there went...)

The two stared at each other for a loose and tranquil moment. Faith slowly warmed a smile, and Cantor cultivated his own. After a minute or so, all that was to be said, verbally or otherwise, had been said, and Faith took a breath to speak. "Well, I guess this is goodbye, then."

Cantor didn't react outside a disheartened sigh. "...I hate goodbyes." He softly and plainly stated.

The two pulled each other into a caring embrace. It was odd how it felt like they'd meet again someday - perhaps in both their hearts, they knew they would: not in Equestria, not on this dry and bloody Absencicy, but a whole new world that promised salvation - and unlike the facility, kept it.

They eventually parted, and Cantor paced slowly over to the broken window. He turned to face Faith, and breathe the same air as her for one last time before raising a hoof to his brow and giving a small salute to the mare. She returned it with a brave smile and a strong nod.

Cantor wore a grin of his own as he turned and stepped over the rim of the shattered window and onto the cold metal of the floor beyond.

Cantor only turned back when he had entered the shuttle. He locked eyes with Faith one final time and called out. "You don't know what this means to me, Faith." He said loudly in order to be heard over the distance. "I will never forget you, or what you've done."

"That's alright, Cantor." Faith called out cheerfully - even if that chirp in her voice was coming from an early form of post-traumatic stress as well as the inflicted madness via the seclusion she was about to deal herself. "And hey, don't feel bad." She continued with sprite. "It's just that some ponies have more to live for than to die for." It sounded odd for something relatively profound to be spoken with such light-heartedness, but regardless, it was better to part on cheerful and friendly terms than dark and stale ones that could lead to resent.

Cantor responded with nothing more than a firm, agreeable nod: nothing more could be said. He quickly darted into the cabin, pressing the switch to close the door behind him, instilling an air of haste as he hated the idea of slowly watching someone leave his life forever. He convinced himself that there was still a mission to be done: that there was some kind of time frame which needed to be kept inside.

He pulled himself in front of the captain's seat and sat uncomfortably down in it. He was unable to find some kind of fastening for launch, and upon closer inspection, noted that there was no such security at all. Instead, the alicorn 'buckled up' mentally, and anticipated his ride, gripping the underside of his seat and preparing for the thrust.

Faith, too adopted this mindset of urgency: rushing across the room to the pulsing red light standing proud from the large centre console. Her heart rate was rapid: her breaths short. Her forehoof hovered perilously over what had announced itself the button to launch the ship.

She stared wide-eyed at the button - and it gave the suggestion that it was testing her: reminding her that if she pressed it, there would be absolutely no hope of getting home. Regardless, the young, battle-scarred pegasus cracked a smirk in the face of this reality: she had already made up her mind.

"Heh..." Faith said as she grinned a small, but triumphant grin. "What's it gonna take to bring you down?"

She forced her hoof onto the button, and that same electrical whirring filled the air. The glow from the rear of the spaecraft intensified as it warmed its engines to its own powerful soundtrack. Faith's expression was one of captivation, and her face was washed an azure blue from the engines.

Rods that were supporting the craft sunk into the walls of the launch basin. The ship fell an inch or two, but corrected itself and wobbled to an equilibrium in mid air: floating itself upwards as the engines glowed brighter and brighter, and the sound roared louder and louder.

Two leviathan metal shutters pulled back to create a colossal parting in the side of the hangar, letting the dirty tan light and harsh winds rush inside. Faith's mane was whipped up almost instantly despite being mostly protected from the gale. The wind pushed the broken shards of glass along the floor towards the opposite wall. Their haphazard shapes made them dance and skip as they slid along the floor, glinting like thousands of tiny silver diamonds.

After a while of whistling wind accompanied by the evolving growl of the engines, the hangar doors were finally open fully, and they came to a rattling halt with a great clatter that echoed around the room for seconds.

Cantor's ride home lifted even higher into the air until it was directly in the middle of the hangar airspace. And then, without warning, the engines all fired at once with an almighty 'boom' which shook the very ground.

Faith stumbled, her ears clamped to her head to drown out the noise. She managed to steady herself on the centre console as the ship slowly pulled away at a slight incline. The shaken mare turned as it breached the sunlight, leaving a growing pool of white smoke in its wake as it exited the building. She could feel the heat from the inferno that were the craft's engines even from where she stood.

Her mouth was agape at the awesome spectacle playing out before her. She had heard of fireworks - even seen a video once, and they were nothing compared to the flash and gleam and godlike noise this rocket was creating. Cantor may be going home, Faith reasoned in thought, a fierce grin manifesting on her face, But he'll never be able to see something like this!

The shuttle had now fully cleared the hangar, though Faith could still see the end half of it from where she was standing: its square, elongated body, its sleek copper finish, and its magnificent engines burning brighter than day. It came to a mid-air stop once more, then began to tilt backwards, positioning itself towards the thick cloud layer. Somehow, the engines grew brighter yet, now just five balls of intense solar rivalry. Then all at once, they blasted into a secondary launch stage, accelerating itself and Cantor into the sky at epic speed.

The sound faded quickly, and Faith rushed as best she could with the pain pulsing in her stomach to the metal rail of the launch basin, catching a glimpse of the glowing speck soaring miles away in the sky before it entered the clouds, dying the bottom layers a strong cyan before they faded back to the (grimly) familiar milky brown.

Despite her now sealed fate, Faith smiled and rested her head on her forelegs as she leaned upon the rail. She had done the right thing, and knowing that put her at peace. It was an odd sense of acceptance the young mare was experiencing: it was sad; empty, but at the same time, quiet, gentle, and simply carefree.

...

But after a moment's adventure through the emotions of closure, Faith began to realise she wasn't alone any more. She gradually opened her eyes to see the hangar doors still open: the rocket's smoke being whipped about by the agitated winds.

Hearing snarls and the 'tip-tap' of sharpened claws on the floor behind her, Faith spun around and dropped onto all fours.

There were thousands.

They were swarming all over the ceiling, the walls and more personally, the floor in front of her. Baying for blood with their jaws clamping wetly together, eliciting throaty hisses and rattles as they tested their advance. The immense racket made by the rocket launch must have woken up every creature in the facility: and if nothing else, their curiosity was ravenous.

A breath caught in Faith's throat, and she managed to transform a rising scream to an uncomfortable exhale. She dropped her eyes to the floor, hearing the murmurings of thousands of renditions of death close in around her. She thought about Cantor, then Celestia, then home in general... Then back to the princess.

"...Sorry I'm not coming home, mom..." She meekly said.

Faith lifted her head. A single tear streaked from each eye, falling down her face and around the curve of her determined; headstrong as ever smile. She checked her rifle: four rounds. Upon closing the bolt back up, Faith laughed triumphantly - if indeed a little maniacally...

"Ha ha...!" She chuckled slowly. "You want a piece of me you ugly fucks!?" She cried out, dropping slowly into a battle stance, murmuring under her breath with a dark and tempting voice, "...Then come and get me."

She broke immediately into a gallop and soared over the first couple of rows of monsters, landing her hooves with a splat directly onto one of their heads.

The creatures, despite themselves, recoiled at the grey mare's actions - but only fractionally: they were quickly rushing to swarm her once again. Faith kissed the top of the barrel of her gun, took aim with her dead-eye,

And fired...

Cantor's teeth were clenched as his body became ever-more moulded to the chair he was sitting in. The g-force was so intense at this point that he could hardly breathe. His eyes were screwed shut in a mixture of pain, fear, and a crushing (though not entirely unpleasant) feeling in his lower organs as their weight multiplied several times.

Much like his haphazard and stunted breathing, Cantor flashed his eyes open every few seconds to keep himself aware that he was indeed alive. Every time he stole a glimpse past his eyelids that had begun to flash intense colours, the scenery was the same: dull, dirty white clouds that were infinitely opaque, but somehow allowed a shocking perspective of the incredible speed they were being ploughed through at.

The shuttle was shaking violently. Red curtains lining the cockpit window had all been pulled backwards and were fluttering in the gravity-made 'wind'. If not for the apocalyptic roar of the powerful engines, ornaments, the contents of wardrobes, and other such miscellanea cascading from their holdings would have been heard having a most energetic 'party' in the living quarters of the ship.

Despite all the chaos rattling the small, enclosed world around him, Cantor could think of nothing else other than the sickly feeling coming from his compressed stomach. This felt more intense than when his own ship had launched from Equestria... Not that it felt, in a word, 'worse', just... something 'more.'

Cantor cracked his eye open again to discover the sky above and around him had darkened. Startled into opening his eyes fully, his senses became less clogged with this ideal of haste and panic: slowly dissolving to allow wonderment and an oddly tense state of relief to blossom. As he began to realise himself, Cantor noticed that the ship's shaking had dulled to a harsh vibration - and that sensation barely had enough time to announce itself before it was corrected and the flight path became smooth.

Small points of light began to appear in the sky, and grew more intense as the dark clouds faded to the total, infinite blackness of space.

There was a short moment of weightlessness: a moment where Cantor was at a loss for words. He merely sat there, staring open-mouthed at the strange isolated beauty of the view as his body slowly began to drift up into the cabin's breathable and fresh airspace.

...Until, "Artificial gravity systems online."

The female computer spoke calmly, followed by a polished mechanical 'whirr.' Cantor fell the foot or so he had lifted back into his seat as the computer continued.

"...Estimated time to arrival: two weeks, five days, thirteen hours, five minutes,"

Cantor huffed a laugh: his current status both mentally and physically drained. "Hmph... 'estimated'..." He said in light of the ship's 'rough' judgement to the minute. The stallion ignored the ship as it seemed to understand his tone, and asserted itself:

"...and forty-three seconds."

Cantor rolled his eyes, but was alerted to a small orange panel that had emerged from a holographic projector. The translucent dial hovered inches away from the window, and failed to flicker even once in the ship's near perfect condition. The orange panel displayed a countdown to the arrival date. According to the ship, home would be reached on the '18th of March, 3074.' Whether that was this craft's pre-determined time and date, or whether Cantor had suffered an immense bout of relative time travel, either way, it was going to take more than two weeks - and all he could think about now was sleep, food, and a hot bath. In that order.

Cantor slumped forward in his chair and rubbed his weary eyes as the feminine voice of the ship continued, bringing on a slight headache for the alicorn.

"Thank you for flying with Chakushu Machines - we hope your voyage is a pleasant one." She sang: voice positively glowing... And as ever,

"Have a nice day..."

Cantor leaned forward and touched the tip of his hoof to the clearly marked white cross icon in the upper-right corner of the panel, and it shut down, casting the room into darkness spare from the festive lights blinking on the control board to the left of the room, their light making a feeble attempt of illumination before they were dominated by the darkness invading from the rear..

Cantor dropped his hoof heavily into his lap and slumped back into the seat: getting as relaxed as he could in this awkward, but most cushioned position. He closed his eyes after a long, (very) painful failure of an expedition: himself the lone survivor doomed to tell the world of the horrific news....

...Yet this was a future problem: and all Cantor was could focus on now was the euphoric sensation of rest as his eyes closed and his body began to lighten.

He was almost asleep - despite everything, a comfortable smile fuelled only by his relaxed and grateful body was woven upon his face. It slowly wilted and died, however, when the lone stallion felt a wave of cold air pass over him as he saw a shadow slowly creep over his face behind his eyelids.

He waited for it to pass before frightfully, although terribly slowly opening his eyes to see the stars and twinkling colours of faraway galaxies slowly moving past the window. He became aware of his own trembling, shallow breath, increased heart rate and cold sweat running down his face as he creaked his pupils to the left corner of his eye, suddenly feeling anything other than 'alone.'

It suddenly occurred to him with a grievous chuckle that he had never bothered to check elsewhere on the ship: just this one room he was sitting in now...

Epitomising the sensation of anti-excitement in his horrified and expectant stare, Cantor reluctantly turned his head to stare at what he presumed was an empty space beside him - though now wasn't so sure, and could feel icy eyes burning him from one fixed point in the room...

He turned to the left, the expression of pure terror frozen in his eyes, only to see silence, darkness, and an empty chair...

Whether it was fatigue that made Cantor close his eyes again, or whether he simply passed out from a mixture of draining emotions, everything from the stallion's point of view went dark as his consciousness slowly slipped from the world, and he fell asleep...