“I am judgement, come for your head!”
David Elliot, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Rainbow Dash.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“That would be your mistake. You should be.”

***

The Everfree Forest. May 5th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

The first thing Twilight realised, when she woke up, was that she had a pounding headache. That made sense: she’d been hit by something heavy and metal. In fact, judging from the slightly blurry vision and the fact that she was feeling more than a little woozy, it didn't feel like too much of a stretch to imagine to herself that she had suffered a concussion. She'd probably be fine in a little while. Probably.

The next thing she noticed, which was rather more pressing in some ways than the possible concussion, was that she had been tied to a tree with what looked and felt like vines. She tested the bonds, trying them as best she could given her condition. They were strong, or at least strong enough that she, dizzy and headachey as she was, couldn't do anything about them.

“Don't bother,” the harsh voice of the biped spoke. Suddenly he came into view. He'd taken his leather jacket off, leaving him in his battered off-white shirt and trousers. A cursory glance showed the jacket hung on a nearby tree, the longer metal weapon leaning against the same tree. They were in a small clearing - presumably the Everfree Forest, judging from the canopy of thick leaves above them.

The creature crouched in front of her, bringing him to eye level with her, his face hard but impassive.

“I've never improvised with vines before,” he said, “but they seem to work quite well.”

“H… how long w-was I…?” Twilight asked.

“Unconscious? About an hour and a half,” the biped replied blandly. He gave a half smile. “Not a bad amount of time, really. Woulda thought you could take a hit better than that, but I guess it’s not too surprising to learn that you’re a glass cannon.”

“W-w-why did you hit me?” she asked, stammering through the dizziness of her concussion. She ignored being called a ‘glass cannon’, whatever that meant. “W-w-”

“Hang on,” he said, holding up a hand. There was, surprisingly, a soft golden glow, and then Twilight shook her head, feeling a little better. The biped’s expression hadn't changed.

“You… healed me,” she said.

“Yup,” he replied blandly. “I did.”

“You can do magic?” she asked, frowning. “Without a horn?”

“Yup,” he replied again, almost bored, as though this were self evident.

“I…” she began, then she shook her head. Another mystery, another time. “Thank you?”

“Don't,” he said. “There's no point interrogating a barely-conscious, stammering mess.”

Twilight blinked slightly. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” the creature said with a smirk. “‘Oh’. Glad we’re all aware of the seriousness of the situation. Should save time nicely.”

He sat down in front of her. He placed an object on the ground in front of her: she recognised it as a dagger. It was a good one foot long, slightly battered, and etched into the blade were two words: Speed Killer. Next to these words was a little symbol, one Twilight recognised - it was a stylised rendition of Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark.

“This is a dagger,” he said unnecessarily. She looked up at him, and he was smiling. “You might be wondering why I put it there.”

She nodded slowly.

“Simple,” he said. “It's my promise, of a sort, that I won't run you through with it until we’re done… unless you convince me not to.”

“You…” Twilight said, swallowing nervously. “You're going to kill me?”

“I might,” he said with a chuckle. “If I don't like your answers. Do you understand my meaning?”

Twilight nodded. “I… I think so. Why are you… why are you doing this?!”

“We’ll get to that,” he said, face stony. “Then we’ll begin.” He leant forward slightly. “You are Twilight Sparkle. Right?”

She nodded.

“Born in the year nine hundred seventy nine of the Single Celestian Throne Calendar?”

She nodded again.

“You have a brother - Shining Armour, born in the year nine six eight of the SCT calendar?” he continued. “And he's married to Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, born in the year nine hundred sixty four of the SCT calendar?”

Twilight nodded again, still not sure where this was all going.

“Now, after you found the Elements of Harmony and restored the late Princess Luna,” the biped said, “Equestria went to the New Diarchy Calendar, and in the third year of that, an island containing a mystical portal appeared off the coast of Manehatten.”

She frowned at that - the ‘late’ Princess Luna? But she was alive and well, the last Twilight had heard, and she was fairly sure she’d have heard about something that momentous occurring. And the rest…

“I… we do have the Diarchy Calendar,” she said quietly. “But… but I've never heard anything about an island off the coast of Manehatten. And Luna’s still alive.”

The creature raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? And I suppose the other world and the race inhabiting it that your people discovered would also something you've never heard of?”

“I… no,” Twilight said, still confused. “I would have known about something like that happening, but I've never heard a thing about mystical islands appearing.” She paused. “That kind of thing would be… pretty noticeable, anyway. What with the climatological and meteorological effects.”

The creature snorted. “You'd think so, huh? But then again, magic makes a lot of things possible that you'd never believe. Well, maybe you would. I dunno.”

Twilight shook her head. “Not without me hearing about it, it doesn't.”

“I’m not disputing you,” the creature said, holding up a hand again with a slight smirk. “In the fourth year of the New Diarchy Calendar -”

“Fourth?” Twilight asked, frowning. “But it's still only May of the Third.”

The creature’s smirk faded slightly. He said nothing for a long moment, and Twilight found herself feeling tense.

“You’re going to kill me?”

“I might - if I don't like your answers.”

What if he didn't like that piece of the truth? What if he hurt her?

“The third year of the New Diarchy Calendar. May.” He was looking thoughtful. “If that’s true, that’s very interesting.”

“W-why?” Twilight asked.

“Because,” the creature said, “the Manehatten Portal Island appeared in April. You should have heard of it.”

Twilight shook her head slowly. “I… I never have.”

The creature’s lips thinned, though his expression remained impassive. He raised a hand.

“You're quite sure?” he asked.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, wondering what he was going to do. He had already demonstrated magic - what if he tortured her?

He snorted, his eyes narrowing at her. “I guess we’ll see.”

There was a flash of light.

***

Blood.

Death.

Madness.

Ponification: the screaming of your friend as he is Converted and you have no choice but to put him down. No room for pity or remorse even as you slide the knife into this body and feel his struggles cease. You can grieve later, cry when death isn't at your door.

More screaming, the cries of soldiers and civilians alike as they burn, the yells and pleas of those you cannot save and the knowledge that they will be far from the last to -

A voice, calm but full of hidden, repressed fury, speaks names. Portal Island off the coast of Manehatten. Questions. Tell me what you know. You have no answers for it. You don't know what it means, and you don't know what it wants you to -

They are counting on you. All of them. Ponies nod in respect. Soldiers wave and cheer. The HLF hold you up as the human symbol, one untouched by ponies, the one they always wanted.

The PER run and hide even as they throw vitriol and hatred at you. They are afraid, and you can’t help but feel like that’s a good thing. They have a bounty out for you, or so you see from the notes written in boltholes and hidden rooms in subways, in houses, made by the traitorous bastards that are intent on destroying this speck that remains of humanity. The bounty says that whoever ponifies you could get a special Potion, transportation to Equestria, a rank among the nobility upon Conversion.

The potion simply burns against you. You learn that you can transfer this protection. It is declared a miracle, and who are you to argue? Armoured figures, crudely painted sword symbols on their armour chestplates, kneel before you, and you let them because it’s that or you break their hope, and who are you to do that?

Cults incorporate you into their paradigms - an exemplar of duty, an embodiment of Britannia or of Gaia herself, first knight and the legacy of Arthur… and some, the worst off (or the plain old mad if you wanted to be harsh) build idols in your honour. Something about that tugs the strings too far, like someone/somepony trying to break a violin, but these people need something, even if it’s just you.

Some of them - the worst of the worst, the detritus of the worst HLF or those who’ve seen too much to come out sane or the ex-Gileadites looking for something to believe - kill ponies “In your Name,” in spite of your having never mentioned such a thing. Those people you kill.

They all see in you the last hope any of them have to live, the last hope any of them have to see an end to this war that isn't -

It pushes harder. Troop positions. The Ivory Legions of the Imperial Guard in their silvery and off-white armour. The locations of Commander Sentry, Prince-Captain Armour, the False Alicorn Fortress-Monasteries of the Blade, the Wings, the Shield, the Eyes and the Horn…

More names: the foundries of Sol Invictus and his ‘weapons of faith’ that immolate and destroy, the great altars and temples of the Holy Empress, the houses of the great and the good of the Church, Blessed Star and her Solar Altars - the Beacons of Her Light… Archmagi, Arcane Fulcrums… the battlefleets, the forces of the Empire’s Zeppelins, the Gloriana Regalia, the Sidera Somniata, the Militus Sangunium, and the mightiest names of all, the Solar Glory, the Harmonious Order and its catastrophic destruction, the Pillar of Salvation…

All these words, and they mean nothing at all. All of these images, every single one of them alien and unfamiliar. But the images don't stop: you see it. The Ivory Guard marching to war, dauntless and relentless. Legions of winged soldiers (Alicorns? How?) flying into battle in giant cities made of concrete and steel that blot out the sun with their size -

- and then you fight. A sword as light as air swings, blocking spells and knocking away projectiles, javelins shattering and lance-tips coming away. Armour is like water, flesh like nothing at all. Fire surrounds you and engulfs you but you do not burn. Cruel laughter washes over you but turns into screams of terror and roars of anger even as the noise grows louder.

Six figures. One falls, then another. They get smarter. They fight harder. You bleed but you do not stop. You push on, and another falls, and another, and another -

- the Sub-Commanders are dead, tell me about Commander Sentry’s orders, what was the plan of attack -

“We’re predicting a full scale assault on London,” the heavily-armoured figure of Eric Smith says, still looking absurdly young given what he's been through, what he's seen. He looks at you with such hope in his eyes. He expects you to save them all: naive, and yet you trust him.

All around you march soldiers - many of them under your command, others serving different fighters. Ponies set up their bulky machine guns, Unicorns weave defensive spells, and Pegasi squadrons trot to staging points. More soldiers, the armoured Iron Clads or the elite troops in salvaged, patched up armour. Bizarre and unrecognizable machines march forward alongside the cacophonous rumble of tanks.

You smile tiredly, wondering why it is you are destined to live through this madness, wondering what kind of world the young will live to see or if anything like life before the War could ever arise -

- and standing behind the Ivory Legions and the war machines, beneath fleets of war-Zeppelins and legions of Pegasi… there stands Her, bedecked in beautiful golden armour and standing with a cold sneer on her imperious face. She is familiar and yet not so - you know who she is, but she is not who you thought she was. She is the great enemy, the one who commands the vile hordes that seek to destroy anything that stands against her. She who has laid waste the Empires of Griffons and Qilin, has shattered Hives, Roks and Mols, has battled Tengu and Tamamo No Mae, she who would -

***

Twilight’s head snapped back, and she blinked as the mind link broke. Her mind swam with images - soldiers, more bipeds like this creature, and ponies like herself as well. An Equestria set for war, an Equestria at war with -

And then the images faded from her mind as the creature in front of her lowered his hand, his eyes full of uncertainty piled upon uncertainty. Twilight looked at him, unfamiliar words swimming through her head.

“Who… who’s ‘Eric’?” she asked.

He didn't answer, instead standing up and turning away from her, moving to lean on another tree. She couldn't see his face, but if she had to hazard a guess she would have said he was more confused than she was. She wondered how to proceed - what she had seen was…

“A friend,” the creature answered suddenly. “Eric is my friend.” He turned to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed in what could only be described as worry. “You… don't know anything.”

“No,” she said with a slow nod. “Those images, that was -”

“Where I come from,” he said slowly. He was frowning at her. “It's impossible. How can you not know?”

She didn't answer, sensing that he was running through his thoughts aloud rather than asking her anything. She tried to think of how she could get free - he might still turn violent.

“You've got no memories of anything,” he said to her, running a hand over his face. “There's - there’s nothing. No troop movements, no… how? How can you not know any of that?!”

“Because I’ve never heard of any of it before today,” Twilight insisted quietly, trying to remain calm. “I - I've never heard of any ‘Ivory Guard’, or of…”

“But that's not possible!” he hissed, and faster than Twilight could see, he had rushed up to her, his knife grabbed from the ground in front of them and held at her throat. “You. Are. Lying.”

To her credit, Twilight held her nerve, even though she felt terrified. “I’m - I’m not. You've been in my head, you -”

“You're one of the most powerful mares in the entire Empire,” the creature said, his voice unnervingly calm as his face turned stone-cold. “There are any number of ways you could have fooled even my efforts to read your mind. You could have hidden your memory of those events somehow, or someone - somepony - else could have.”

“That’s incredibly complex magic,” Twilight said quietly, trying not to show fear even though the knife was hovering right by her neck.

“You're right, it is,” he said. “But for you? Cleverest magician in Equestria? It's not beyond the realms of possibility - quite the opposite, I’d have said.”

“I-I’m not lying,” Twilight said, eyes wide. She swallowed. “Please, I’m as confused as you are - let me - let me help you.”

His eyes were stony, and all expression left his face. A moment later, he snorted derisively.

“‘Help’,” he said, before spitting almost reflexively on the ground. “Two billion people burn to death when the Barrier sweeps them and their lands away, and you never offered help. What's so different now?”

Twilight’s eyes widened in horror. “Two… two billion?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that somehow surprising to you? Oh, wait, you've forgotten somehow.” He snorted derisively. “Just my luck that none of this shit could be simple.”

Twilight blinked several times, trying to even comprehend the number two billion. Two billion of what she could only assume were this creature’s people. Males, females, their foals… how? Why?

“W-what… what happened?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You really don't know?”

She was half tempted to point out that they had already established that, but she got the feeling that a sarcastic answer wouldn't go down well, so she simply nodded.

He frowned. “Alright, fine. I’ll play along with you for now. Not like you're going anywhere, huh?”

Twilight nodded nervously. The creature stood up, pushing off the ground and walking over to the tree where his jacket hung, picking it off of the branch and slipping it back on. His fingers brushed the metal weapon, then he turned to look at Twilight without picking it up.

“The year 2020,” he said quietly. “For me, twelve years ago. The planet Earth. I suppose you've never heard of it.”

She shook her head.

“Right,” he said, still looking dubious. He sat in front of her. “Well, I’m not in the mood for a history lesson. Basics - it’s big, it’s mostly oceans, and unlike Equus, the only civilisation on the planet was my people. Humans.”

Humans… Twilight thought, running the word through her head. Some sort of mythological being, something she had heard of once in a blue moon in obscure texts. She briefly recalled that Lyra had run a lecture on them in Ponyville, but she’d been busy cataloging. She wished she'd bothered going, now that she was faced with a real life human.

“So,” the human said. “In the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the largest on our planet, an island appeared. Our own Portal Island.” He paused and have an almost wry smile. “There weren't many climatological or meteorological effects - that one did kind of throw some folks for a loop, so I hear, but what happened next was more interesting.” He took a breath. “Way I hear it told, a small research team landed. Portal Island was green, pleasant - and it had an anomaly on it.”

“The eponymous portal?” Twilight asked.

The human smirked slightly at that. “However did you guess, Commander?”

Twilight’s face fell. “I’m not a commander.”

He shrugged. “Force of habit, and anyway - we’ve proved nothing concrete yet. For all I know, this could still be some elaborate subterfuge. You lot have tried weirder shit over the years.”

Twilight felt the blood drain from her face. What would it take to convince this human that she wasn't who he thought she was?

He sighed, apparently collecting his thoughts. “So the team test the thing. It’s impassible. Nothing makes it through. Then something comes out.” He paused. “Your Princess Celestia.”

Twilight frowned at that. “Celestia? I don't understand - she’d have told me -”

“Maybe she did, Commander,” the human said darkly. Twilight frowned, but before she could say anything he continued. “So, Celestia opened diplomatic ties with humanity. For two years, humanity and your people are working on building a peace - a tentative, but reasonable, peace. A few ponies set up embassies, a few of your artists came here.” He looked at the sky. “And you know… it was nice. But nice stuff always has a darker edge.”

He sighed, looking back at Twilight. She waited for a moment before speaking.

“What went wrong?” she asked.

“The barrier - the portal wouldn't let humans or human-made objects through,” the human said quietly. “We had no way of building embassies in Equestria, of learning about your world, beyond what Celestia told us. That was obviously untenable - until Celestia told us about the potion.”

“The potion?” Twilight asked, frowning.

The word, when used in this context, was almost… familiar, almost like a forgotten dream.

“It doesn't matter,” he said quietly after a moment. “The point is, things went a little sour after that. Groups started fighting - some were too pro-pony, the the point of hating humanity. Some were too anti-pony, to the point of attacking embassies, killing some of the few pony officials who came over.” He paused, letting that sink in. “And then the barrier started… expanding.”

“Expanding?” Twilight repeated. “As in…”

“As in, it began expanding outward in a perfect circle, out from Portal Island, across the Pacific,” the human said, frowning at the memory. “It burned through countries. It burned away armies. We tried bombs, we tried guns, we tried energy shields - nothing worked.”

Twilight couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was… it sounded horrible. And the human wasn't even done.

“People panicked,” he continued. “Some of them killed themselves, some of them… chose other options.” He paused, something unreadable flickering across his features. “Eventually most of the world was gone. The ponies that had come to us either fled back to Equestria, or if they were too slow they were slaughtered in the streets.”

Twilight shook her head.

“I don't understand it,” she said, frowning. “What you're talking about doesn't make sense. It hasn't happened.”

The human growled at that. “It did happen. I was there. I was one of the people helping the refugees as they landed, shell shocked and terrified for their lives. It. Fucking. Happened.”

Twilight flinched at the vehemence in his words, even though the curse was unfamiliar. But none of what he was saying made sense.

“But I don't understand…” she said. “Didn't anypony try to help? To stop this… this barrier somehow?”

The human snorted. “No. Not in any way that did anything I’d define as helping, anyway.”

“Why would nopony help?!” Twilight asked desperately. “Celestia -”

“She let us die!” the human snarled. He calmed down. “She let us die. She stood by, and she watched.”

“That… isn’t her,” Twilight said emphatically. “Celestia would never just… just stand by and watch others suffer. Not when she could do something about it.”

The human stared at her for a minute, the look of anger still on his face. Slowly, a grim chuckle escaped his lips, though there was little mirth in it.

“‘Isn't her’, huh?” he asked. “I guess that explains a couple of things, especially -”

He paused. Something had cracked behind them, and in a flash he had turned around, the metal projectile weapon he had threatened Twilight with earlier out and aimed at the foliage.

“T-that might have been a timberwolf,” Twilight said quietly.

“And I'm Michael Jackson,” the human muttered. Whatever reference he was making was lost on Twilight, who frowned.

“If it's a timberwolf,” she said, “we might be in danger.”

The human snorted. “I've dealt with worse.” He paused, looking around. “It's not a timberwolf.”

“How do you know?” Twilight asked.

The human looked at her, an almost predatory gleam in his eye. “You think I never killed a pony in a forest before? I know what your kind sound like when they’re trying to be stealthy.”

The blunt way he said it threw Twilight off guard, and she fixed him with a look that he studiously ignored. He kept his weapon up and aimed outward.

“Come on,” he said, calling out to the wood. “I can wait here all day to -”

A rainbow-coloured blur slammed into him from the side, throwing him into a tree, where he slumped to the ground, at least momentarily stunned.

“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash called out, a massive grin on her face. “Take that, you… human!”

***