“…proving once again that ewes, and only ewes, can prevent chorus criers!”

Dash couldn’t hold back a chuckle. That one wasn’t half bad.

“For the love of Sombra,” said the guard, “will you shut up already?”

They’d been in the dungeon for… something like an hour, probably. Maybe several. There were no windows, no way to tell time. Just the flickering light of the torches. There were lots of cells, but only Dash and Pinkamena were prisoners, each with their own cell right next to each other. Dash guessed the rest of the prisoners had been drafted. It was the typical dungeon: cold, hard, drafty, all that jazz. Only one guard. Probably all they could spare; he was a Shade, they shouldn’t be relegated to such lower-tier duty as this. Were they even running low on bucketheads? Wow.

If Dash had had her way, she would’ve stewed. Pinkamena was right. This was stupid. What was she thinking? She was charging straight into the enemy’s home base, with nothing but a fast rainbow and a burning desire to revenge; it was amazing she’d lasted long enough to kill a few generals. She’d failed. She’d gotten herself captured, and she’d failed, plain and simple.

But Pinkamena was here, so Dash didn’t have her way. The moment her door was locked, Pinkamena started telling jokes and hadn’t stopped for a moment, running her mouth like a waterfall. It took Dash’s mind off of her failure. The jokes were kind of hit-and-miss. Mostly hit, surprisingly enough. Dash didn’t mind. The guard did, though.

Pinkamena paid him no mind. “Ooo! Here’s one! How many Shades does it take to light a candle?”

“Complete that,” snapped the guard, “and I’ll come in there and-”

“I dunno, Pinkamena,” said Dash loudly, “how many does it take?”

“Twenty! Somepony else lights the candle, and Sombra executes them for letting it get lit.”

After a second, Dash wiggled her hoof halfheartedly. “Eh. Real eh. You’ve got something there, but the punchline takes too long. Not punchy enough.”

Pinkamena considered that. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. But don’t worry, there’s plenty more where that came from!”

“Shut up, you stupid pink chatterbox!”

“Anyway, so,” said Pinkamena. “There was this colt from Detrot. His special talent was singing. And he could sing really really well. So at a young age, he went to a street corner and started serenading all the passing ponies with perfectly peppy pieces of perfection for pennies.”

“You used ‘perfect’ twice in that,” said Dash.

“Hey, that’s something I ain’t,” said Pinkamena with a shrug. “So at one point, some other foals heard him singing. And they also had musical cutie marks, so they were like, ‘We should form a band!’ And they did. They actually did alright, thanks to their collective talents. They called themselves the Sha Na Nas, ‘cause, you know… foals.”

“Do you ever stop?” moaned the guard. “At all?”

“Nope! Eventually, they grew up and drifted apart. But the colt, now stallion, he wanted to keep going. He started writing songs, selling albums, making money… He got into the big time. He tweaked the name of his band a teensy bit to get his stage name. Called himself the Shan.” She rhymed it with “pan”.

“Spent all afternoon on that, did he?” asked Dash.

“Probably. Now, he was doing great for a while. Got all the carts, the mares, everything he wanted. But it went to his head, as big success is wont to do. He-”

“Wait. ‘Wont’? You just used the word ‘wont’?”

“Hey!” protested Pinkamena. “I’m joking here! I’m joking here! Cool it with the interruptions!” She cleared her throat. “…is wont to do. The Shan started thinking he could do whatever he wanted, and he fell into drugs. You know, stuff like powdered sugar and hard grape juice.”

The guard didn’t say anything; considering his earlier objections, he seemed to be unusually invested in the story.

“And he fell into a downward spiral, as you’re wont to do in that sort of situation.” Pinkamena made falling motions with her hooves. “Now, most ponies would’ve been wont to just crash and burn — SHEEEEEOOOOOOoooooo-BOOM! But not the Shan. He was wont to-”

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” Dash said.

“Whaaaaaaat?” Pinkamena said with an innocent smile.

“All that wonting.”

“Don’t interrupt me next time! So the Shan didn’t want to crash and burn. He went into rehab, got real clean, and set about making his comeback. It took him months and months and months and months of writing, but when he was done, he had it. His masterwork. His magnum opus. His cream of the crop. His red velvet cake. He called it… The Hit.”

Pinkamena paused for dramatic effect. Both Dash and the guard were silent.

“The Hit was a concept album,” continued Pinkamena. “You know, one of those kinds that tells a story? And it was based on the Shan’s own experiences, but it was about this fictional singer. He struggles to make it big before he has this one big hit — that’s where the title comes from — that catapults him to superduperstardom overnight. And he’s not ready for that, so his ego gets huuuuuuuge with his success. But that comes back and bites him in the rump, as that kind of thing is wont to do-” She smirked at Dash, who glared and flicked her tail. “-and it’s not long before it all falls apart around him. And before you know it, he’s back where he started. He decides to try again, but this time with knowledge of what he did wrong. He’ll climb his way back up, but once he gets up, he’ll have the humility he didn’t have before.”

Pinkamena took a deep breath. “It did great. It did really really great. Everyone loved it. This reviewer praised it for its melodic tunes. That one for its rich soundscape. Those ones for its sophisticated lyrics. But everypony, no matter what they liked, agreed on one thing in particular: The Hit held much more resonance when compared with the Shan’s life. Now that he saw what he did wrong, it was heartbreaking to listen to those songs and realize the kind of self-loathing he was going through, or uplifting to listen to them and know how he was trying to change himself for the better. And it only had that when compared with him directly. In other words, everypony agreed that…”

Pinkamena grinned the biggest grin Dash had ever seen her grin, which was saying something. She paused.

The guard leaned forward. “…that…?” he asked.

Pinkamena giggled. “…The Hit fit the Shan!”

It took Dash several moments, but once she got it, she doubled over laughing. It was so terrible, so completely and utterly awful, that it was actually kind of magnificent in its gloriously supreme horribleness. She laughed until her sides ached.

The guard didn’t share the same sentiment. All traces of interest vanished and he glared at Pinkamena. “Think you’re funny, do you?”

“She’s laughing. I must be doing something right.”

“Uh-huh. Listen, you stupid pink mare, you tell one more joke, I’ll come over there and beat the living daylights out of you.”

Something flashed in Pinkamena’s eyes. She turned to Dash, who was still laughing. “Hey Dashie! What do you call a Shade with half a brain?”

“Hehe… I dunno, Pinkamena,” giggled Dash. “What?”

“Gifted!”

“THAT’S IT!” bellowed the guard. He strapped a lightning wand to his front hooves and stomped over to Pinkamena’s cell. “You think you can just run your mouth off like that in here?!” He aimed the wand between the bars. “Let me tell you, you got ano-”

Pinkamena lunged forward, stuck her forelegs between the bars and behind the guard’s neck in an instant. Bracing herself with her rear legs, she yanked hard, pressing his throat against one of the bars hard enough to cut off his airway. He struggled and tried to get a grip on something, get some leverage. But Dash knew it wouldn’t do him any good; Pinkamena was a member of the Rock Corp, some of the strongest ponies in the EUP. He could push all day and he wouldn’t be able to get out.

Pinkamena smirked at the guard as she pulled. “What’s the matter? Under pressure?”

The guard couldn’t even gasp out a response.

After what felt like an eternity, his struggles died down, vanished. Releasing his body to let it drop to the floor, Pinkamena turned to Dash with an exaggerated sad face. “Aw. So sad. He was doing so well, then he went and choked.” She tsked and turned to one of the rock walls. “And now, part B of my cunning plan to escape!”

Dash was still frozen in shock. She knew Pinkamena could be fast, but not that fast. She could barely see her. And- “Part B?”

Pinkamena was tapping one of the walls. “Yep! Step 1 was to get the guard over here and take him out. I went the annoyance route. He had a thicker skin than I thought, but I showed him! Part B: tunnel through this wall without him bothering us. This shouldn’t take too long.”

Dash sat up. “Wait. Tunnel through it? Seriously?”

Pinkamena shook her head back and forth and tsked again. “Dashie. Dashie, Dashie, Dashie. What leg of the EUP am I in again?”

“The Rock Corp.”

“And what do I do in the Rock Corp?”

“Demolition and controlled use of rocks, boulders, stones, and earth as weapons, as well as defense against such.”

“And what are these walls made of?”

“Rocks. But Pinkamena, there’ll be enchantments in the walls, and you don’t have any protection for your hooves.”

Pinkamena smirked. “Somepony doesn’t know much about the Rock Corp.” She raised her bare hooves, dug them into a crack, wiggled them around a bit, dislodged a small rock, nodded to herself. “Old. Barely any mortar. Enchantments are totally weak. Bet they haven’t bothered with upkeep since the war began. We weren’t supposed to get this far, after all. If I’m right, this’ll be easy as Pinkie Pie.”

“You have no idea how dirty that sounds.”

“Quiet. I’m busy.” Pinkamena hummed a little tune to herself, then attacked the wall with her bare hooves like a jackhammer.

It’d always shocked Dash just how fast the Rock Corp could work. Dust and rubble was flying every which way, and she had to put up a hoof to shield her face. Pinkamena had a decent-sized dent in the wall in seconds, and it kept growing wider, deeper. Pinkamena’s humming turned into a full-blown song she was singing quietly to herself: “We say if you can’t dig then you won’t know how to win big when you’re breaking out of jail…”

Pinkamena completely vanished through the hole in the wall. A moment later, the wall in Dash’s cell began vibrating violently. Dash quickly shuffled to the opposite side. The wall collapsed, showering her in dirt and pebbles, and in its place was Pinkamena, coated in dirt, grinning broadly, and still singing. “Because if you get caught then you will show you trained for naught because you went and failed… oh, no…”

Before Dash could say anything, Pinkamena went to work lengthening the tunnel. Dash could see the walls in other cells shaking and dislodging pebbles, but none of them collapsed like Dash’s had. Pinkamena’s voice echoed down the tunnel. “Feel… the… groOoOound… Rocks… are… all aroOoOound…”

Dash brushed herself and followed Pinkamena into the tunnel. It was cramped and crude, but considering it’d been dug in less than a minute, it was pretty spectacular. Dust filled the air, and Dash started coughing as she followed Pinkamena’s voice. “Move your hooves, dig through the rubble, feel the groove, break all the rocks to dust! To dust!”

The worst part about it was that the interior of the tunnel was completely lightless. Dash liked light. You needed light to fly. Even moonlight and starlight was sufficient. Here, she had nothing. All she could do was simply blunder forward, bumping into the walls like she was a ball rolling down a chute. She kept on feeling like she’d step in a pothole or get her leg sliced off by a trap. Irrational? Totally. But that was how she felt. It didn’t help that rubble left from Pinkamena’s excavations littered the floor of the tunnel, making footing treacherous. It’d be all too easy to misstep and twist an ankle.

Pinkamena didn’t seem particularly upset by the dark. If anything, her voice was more upbeat than before. “You should move to stay out of trouble; it’d behoove you to break out or bust! Or bust!”

Then Dash saw something ahead. A little sliver of light. In it, she could see that Pinkamena had changed directions and was now attacking the wall again. Light was coming in between the stones. Pinkamena kept right on singing as she dug. “The wall rumbles and crumbles and tumbles when you hit it.” She braced her back against one wall and bucked out with her rear hooves, yelling, “Dig it!”

The wall tumbled over, exposing a gap large enough for a pony to crawl through. Pinkamena enlarged it a bit and tumbled through. Dash followed and promptly stretched her wings. It was much too narrow in there; it’d been impossible for her to spread her wings more than a few inches. As wings were meant to spread, Dash loathed the feeling.

Pinkamena was still singing as she strode to the exit. “Digging’s underrated; when you ne-”

Dash lightly smacked her on the back of the head. “Don’t sing. We’re in their base. Singing’s bad.”

“But Dashie, the song wasn’t even half done!”

“Don’t. Sing,” Dash growled through clenched teeth. “You’ll alert them. What was that song, anyway?”

“The Rock Corp Breakout Anthem.”

“…the Breakout Anthem?”

“Uh-huh! I wrote it myself. Sometimes, Sombra doesn’t have enough helmets, so he tries to keep his prisoners secured. But when you’re a prime member of the Rock Corp-” Pinkamena puffed herself up. “-the ground’s really just another weapon. I wrote the song for motivation when escaping.”

“That happen a lot, does it?”

“Well, no. Not really. But it’s a good song to have when it does happen!”

“Like a battlefield balloon emergency, I suppose.”

“Yes! Exactly like that!”

Dash sighed and shook her head, but couldn’t help but grin.

Pinkamena broke open a chest near the entrance, shattering it as if the wood itself was brittle, and tossed Dash her pike back. “So that’s, what, four down, two to go?”

“Huh? Oh, um… yeah.” Dash nodded as she slipped her hooves into the handles. “You still wanna do this?”

“Duh. We’re almost done. If we can get it done now, I don’t see why I wouldn’t wanna do this. I get to be part of the party that ended the war!”

“Alright. Follow me, then.” Dash crept up the stairs out of the dungeon.

She felt… strange. Grateful that Pinkamena had broken her out, sure, but now, some part of her kept screaming at her: just what was she doing? Was she doing this for Thunderlane, herself, the EUP, what? Dash wasn’t sure. She wanted to say Thunderlane, but that seemed weird and hollow. Like she hadn’t been thinking straight when she set out and was only just now seeing how stupid she’d been. If she tried to say herself, she asked herself why she didn’t just book it out of here. From the sounds of things, when a general died, they lost control over their bucketheads, and with only two of them plus Sombra left, they wouldn’t have much control over their army anymore. She could just break out of the shield again, and she’d be okay. And if she tried to say the EUP, she asked herself why she didn’t just book it out of here and come back with a better-equipped strike force or something. She knew her rainbows could break the shield, now; why not just take other ponies in, too?

Dash wasn’t sure of herself. But just running away, even if it was to come back, wouldn’t fit with her. She’d stay here. And she’d take them down.

The staircase took them to ground level, then further up, into the Crystal Palace. When Dash poked her head out to get a look at the time, it was still early morning; the sky was turning orange, but the sun wasn’t up just yet. So she and Pinkamena had been down there for several hours, at least. It felt shorter than that. Must’ve been Pinkamena’s jokes.

As Dash and Pinkamena continued up the stairs, into the Palace proper, they heard voices. Agitated ones. Nocturna and that other general, Grayscale.

“I’m telling you,” Grayscale said, “you should’ve sent another guard.”

Nocturna snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. They won’t escape.”

“They weren’t supposed to get this far in, either. We found the bodies of nine Shades. Nine. Just from those two ponies.”

“They’re in the dungeon. You think they’ll get out out of that?”

Dash and Pinkamena kept moving up. The voices got louder.

“They might. They broke through the shield, didn’t they? And that blue one, Dash, she’s driven. I saw the way she looked at you. What did you do?”

“I just met with her, warned her that the EUP would regret it if she didn’t turn herself over to us.”

“She blames you for that sleeper agent thing, then.”

“She doesn’t know that it was my idea!”

Every muscle in Dash’s body tensed. As if she needed another reason to hate Nocturna. Of course it’d be her idea. That was probably why she was the one delivering the message: for such a wonderfully twisted idea, she got to be the one to take in the great Rainbow Dash. That would be the worst mistake she made.

“That’s irrelevant,” continued Grayscale. “You sent the message, you’re the one she blames, you’re the one whose head is going on that pike. Ten bits says she lost someone when it all went down, and that’s why she’s here. She’ll break out and she’ll take her time with you. She won’t settle for anything less.”

“For the last time, they are not getting out!”

What was it with these guys and entrance cues?

Dash and Pinkamena had reached the right level. The first level they got to, actually. Dash was out in an instant, pike held high. No yelling this time; she didn’t want to alert them.

But Grayscale was fast. No sooner was Dash out of the doorway than he’d shoved Nocturna out of the way and raised a shield around the two of them. Dash slammed into his shield and bounced off with a cracking sound and numbness wherever she’d touched it. In the background, she heard Pinkamena’s slung stone ricochet off. Undeterred, Dash charged again, this time going at the shield solely with her pike. Sparks flew and Grayscale cringed down as he struggle to keep the shield up.

“Told you so!” Grayscale bellowed at Nocturna as they backed up.

“Shut up!”

“Told you so!” Grayscale’s horn glowed and a crystalline wall erupted between the two pairs, almost reaching to the ceiling.

But crystal was brittle, riddled with shatterpoints. Pinkamena charged forward, swung around, and bucked it. A thousand fractures ran up the wall, and several good-sized shards fell from the top. She bucked again. A large chunk of the wall shattered, exposing Nocturna.

Nocturna tried to put up a shield, but it was weak and flickering. Dash charged and brought the pike down on the shield, as hard as she could. It bounced off, but the stress was enough for the shield to drop. Dash lunged again, swinging wildly. Nocturna backpedaled; it was enough to avoid taking a pike to the face, but it cut a deep gash across her cheek.

Nocturna yelped and clapped a hoof to her wound. “You… little-” she snarled at Dash. A blast of magic threw Dash across the room and into a wall. Her head ringing, she struggled to her feet, only for a speeding hunk of crystal to smash into her ankle. Bones crunched and she fell to the floor with a groan.

Nocturna rolled her neck and took a few steps forward. She was grinning. “Did you…” she muttered, “really th-”

A shard of crystal cannoned into her ribs, shattering and scoring dozens of tiny cuts across her stomach. Pinkamena was up, twirling her sling. “Stay away from my friend!” she yelled. She loosed another stone.

Nocturna bolted, and the stone missed her. Blood flying from her cut, she ducked into a stairwell and scrambled up them.

“Coward!” Grayscale yelled after her. He levitated a crystal in front of him. It shattered, breaking into dozens of inch-long spikes that rocketed towards Pinkamena. She turned to one side and threw up a foreleg to protect her face.

Time froze for Dash in the instant before impact.

This was her fault. Just what was she doing? What was she thinking? Did she honestly imagine she could fly into here and avenge Thunderlane? Really? No. She’d been blinded by grief. She’d been stupid. She should’ve listened to Pinkamena. She should’ve brought in somepony else. She should’ve waited until morning and outlined her plan to someone high in the EUP for a more coordinated offensive. But, no, she just had to do this herself.

And now Pinkamena might die. All because she couldn’t let down somepony who was already dead.

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

Adrenaline kicked in. Dash stood up. Time sped up again.

Most of the crystals ricocheted off Pinkamena’s armor, but several of them still penetrated her body. Her foreleg took the worst of it; needing to be flexible, it was almost completely unarmored. And some spines slipped around the leg to hit the face. As Pinkamena recoiled from the barrage, Dash could see one spine sticking out of her eye.

And Dash knew it was her fault.

Grayscale was still looking at Pinkamena. Dash charged.

She reached him at the same time he turned to her. As his eyes widened, she brought the pike down on his head and pushed with all her might. Her broken hoof screamed in pain. But she deserved it. The pike went clean through Grayscale’s head and embedded itself in the floor below.

Five down. One to go. But Pinkamena might be dying. What did that matter?

Dash abandoned her pike and hastily limped over to Pinkamena. Blood was already pooling around her, but it looked better than Dash had feared. As Dash neared her, Pinkamena easily pushed herself over and turned to Dash. She recoiled; Pinkamena’s left leg was riddled with spikes, each one bleeding slightly, and more spikes dotted her left side. She was pressing a hoof to her eye, and more blood was seeping out around it.

“Did you get him?” Pinkamena asked. Her voice was strong, only slightly pained.

“Yeah,” Dash said dully. “Pinkamena, we need to-”

“No,” said Pinkamena. “You need to finish what we came here for and get up those stairs and get that last general.”

“Don’t… Doesn’t it hurt?”

Pinkamena shrugged. “Not yet. My blood’s still running high, so pain is kinda secondary at the moment. Listen, I’ve seen these wounds before. They’re not nearly as bad as they look. Leave the crystals in, they’ll slow the bleeding a lot. I’ll be fine.”

Yeesh. That sounded painful, but Pinkamena had a point. “But your eye?”

Pinkamena rolled her remaining eye. “The eye’s hardly a vital artery. It’s gone, yeah, but I’m not in any danger from it. I’ll be fine, Dashie.”

Dash swallowed. Pinkamena was talking with the assured voice that could only come from the 110% confident. It still looked bad, but Dash decided she’d have to trust her. “Listen, Pinkamena, I- I’m sorry I dragged yo-”

“No, you didn’t. I dragged myself along.”

“No, I- I should’ve stayed at camp. This was stupid, Pinkamena, I don’t know what ca-”

Pinkamena lightly smacked Dash across the face. “First of all, Pinkie. Second of all, you came here because you wanted to avenge a friend. And you’re Rainbow Dash, so you wanted to avenge them real bad, in your own special way. It is stupid, but I can understand that — why do you think I’m here? — and I’m not the only one. You know why you and I are the only ones here? Because you’re the only one who could break the shield at will.”

A weight lifted slightly from Dash’s shoulders. Slightly. Pinkamena, at least, understood. And if she was talking this much, chances were she’d be fine. “Then, then while I’m gone, please don’t up and die on me, okay?”

“Cut it out, Dash! For the umptillionth time, I’ll be okie-dokie.”

“Alright. Promise?”

Pinkamena nodded. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye!”

“How can you make jokes like that now?” Dash said with a shudder.

“By keeping an eye out for the right opportunity!”

Yeah, Pinkamena would definitely be alright. “You’re crazy, Pinkamena.”

“We’ve been over this. I’m not crazy, I’m eccentric. Now, for the last time, get up there and go get her!”

Dash nodded and, with the help of her wings to compensate for her bashed hoof, headed up the staircase as fast as she could.

Nocturna’s wounds were still bleeding. Dash followed the splatters. Nocturna might’ve been faking it with magic, but given the way she’d fled the moment she’d been wounded, Dash didn’t think she was thinking straight enough to try something like that. She just followed the splatters and kept going up and up and up.

Five down, one to go. It was a weird feeling. Five down, one to go. Had there really been six generals in here at sunset? They sure went down quickly when you took them by surprise. Maybe the EUP should’ve tried behind-enemy-lines covert-ops assassination missions. But that might be too risky; if they got captured, they’d be drafted into Sombra’s army. Dash herself had gotten extremely lucky that one time. Oh, well. Too late now.

It was only fitting that the one most responsible for Thunderlane’s death would be the last one standing. It wouldn’t do for the last general to be some random schmuck Dash had never heard of. This was just between the two of them. Nocturna may have had magic, but seeing the way she used it, Dash wasn’t particularly worried. Someone like Grayscale, maybe. But not Nocturna.

…Damn, this was a long staircase. It felt like it climbed past the moon. But Dash kept following the splatters. Finally, she made it to the top, to a sort of observation deck, wh-

“Stop.”

Nocturna’s voice hit Dash’s brain, and she unwillingly skidded to a halt. It wasn’t as persistent as Sombra’s, but there was no way of telling how effective it was. Not until she tried fighting it.

Count to four.

Inhale.

And that was it. Nocturna’s control was gone. Dash hadn’t even gotten halfway through the cycle. Skilled at this, she wasn’t. Even the helmets had put up more of a fight than her. Dash held still. The element of surprise had worked wonders last time, she was sure it’d do the same now.

She was on the top floor of the Palace, beneath an open-air cupola. Nocturna was standing to one side, out of sight from the staircase. She chuckled dryly and wiped some blood away from the still-bleeding cut on her face. “Well, well, well,” she said. “I guess it’s just you and me.”

Which doesn’t bode well for you, Dash thought. You talk too much. She wanted so much to say that, but she wanted Nocturna to get close to her first.

“Even after you’re jailed, you screw us over. I’m going to do what my King should’ve done.” Her horn sparked. “Now, tell me what you’re going to do.”

An idea flitted its way through Dash’s mind. She ignored it, but said what it wanted her to say as she walked to the edge. “I’m going to throw myself from the top of this tower.”

…Wait, what? That was how she’d kill Dash? It’d take like twenty seconds for her to reach the ground. The moment Nocturna’s mind control was gone — which, given the amount of control she had, wouldn’t take long — Dash would just flare her wings and fly away. She was a pegasus, for Celestia’s sake!

Well, if that was what she wanted…

Nocturna smiled. “Good girl.”

Dash snapped her gaze to meet Nocturna’s. “And I’m taking you with me.”

All expression vanished from Nocturna’s face. “Huh?”

Before she could react any more, Dash had grabbed her and jumped from the Palace.

Dash pivoted in the air, angling her wings to keep close to the building, and slammed Nocturna’s body against the wall as they fell. Nocturna screamed as friction ripped away her skin and flesh, leaving a bloody smear the whole length of their fall. Whenever they bounced away, a flap of Dash’s wings would push them back.

Below them, the balcony was coming up fast. A few flaps from Dash slowed their descent. When Nocturna hit the floor, it wouldn’t be enough to kill. It would be enough to hurt.

Dash flared her wings at the last second and landed like a feather. Nocturna fell like a stone, and several ribs audibly snapped as she impacted the balcony. She barely moved, but she still whimpered, clutching at the bloody remains of her face.

It wasn’t enough for Dash. She bent down and grabbed Nocturna’s tail in her teeth. She dragged her over to the railing of the balcony. A quick wrench of the neck flipped Nocturna over and down. She hit the ground even harder. But if she listened, Dash could still hear her whimpering. Just barely.

Dash vaulted over the railing and landed next to Nocturna. Her body was pathetic, broken. Her entire left side had had its skin stripped away and she could barely muster the strength to breathe. Some other pony might’ve felt pity.

Not Dash. Not after Nocturna had planted the sleeper agents. She raised her good hoof and brought it down on Nocturna’s head. Something cracked. Not Dash’s hoof. She raised it up and brought it down, raised it up and brought it down, over and over and over. Each time, it went a little deeper, got a little wetter, got a little redder.

After a while, all she was doing was punching wet chunks of bone into the cobblestones. So she stopped.

Dash stood over the corpse, panting, blood dripping from her hooves. After a moment, she just dropped the ground and rolled onto her back. It was done. She’d taken care of all the generals. The only one left was Sombra and, well, someone else could get him. She’d avenged Thunderlane.

So why didn’t she feel any different?

War or no war, Thunderlane was dead, and nothing would change that. She’d done good things, right? All of Sombra’s generals were dead. There was no way he could control his army alone. He’d probably be defeated before evening. But she still felt terrible. She still felt like she could’ve saved him. She’d done all she could for him, and it wasn’t enough. It never would be. Not unless she could turn back time.

She was jarred from her thoughts by pain slowly seeping into her leg as the adrenaline wore off. It was dull, but it burned and it throbbed. She groaned and pushed herself to her good legs. She’d have to go get Pinkamena. She’d be okay, she’d promised she’d be, but that was still a lot of crystals in her.

Something rumbled. A black cloud rushed down from the balcony and coalesced into Sombra. He looked even angrier than before, his eyes boring into Dash’s skull. His teeth were clenched and his breathing was loud and labored. He held his head low, his ears back, and he pawed at the ground. “You,” he snarled. “This is all your fault. You couldn’t just sit and wait, could you?” He glanced briefly at Nocturna’s broken remains. “You… you ruined everything.”

“‘Course,” Dash mumbled. She was too tired to speak any louder. “Don’t you know my nickname? Rainbow Crash. I tend to ruin stuff.”

“You’re dead,” he whispered. “I don’t care anymore. You’re dead.” The air started crackling as his horn blackened, and the dark magic he was gathering was palpable in its intensity. The world teetered; Dash felt like she was hanging upside down. Her bones froze as her blood burned.

But Dash didn’t care anymore, either. She’d done enough. She was tired.

“YOU’RE DEAD!” Sombra screamed. The air screeched as he loosed the killing blow.

The sun crested the horizon and Sombra’s magic stopped dead in its tracks.

“SOMBRA.”

The earth shook with the intensity of the word. It didn’t blot out other sounds; they simply fell silent. It lacked bass, but you felt it more than you heard it. It drilled through Dash’s head, made sure she heard it. It was a force of nature, bearing more resemblance to an avalanche or a tidal wave than anything so mundane as sound.

In the east, Celestia was hovering at the border of the Crystal Empire, flanked by four pegasus Royal Guards. The Princess of the Sun had come at last.

Sombra whirled on her, tried to say something. But the words wouldn’t come, and all he could do was roar in shock and frustration.

“YOUR TIME HAS COME,” Celestia said. She didn’t roar. She didn’t need to. When Celestia loosed her own magic, compared to Sombra’s, there was no contest. Her magic bore down on him like a freight train. It was so bright Dash had to avert her eyes, so hot she swore she felt her coat crisping, so physical she was peppered by pebbles from the wind.

Celestia ended the onslaught, and Sombra was no more.

Dash stared at the spot where he’d been, now nothing more than a blackened crater. It was over. All of Sombra’s generals were dead. Sombra himself was dead. The only ones left were bucketheads and those who lacked the skill to control bucketheads. The war was won.

Dash collapsed again. She was tired.

A yellow spark, Celestia herself appeared next to her. “Rainbow Dash? Are you okay?” Celestia’s voice had changed. She wasn’t the least bit intimidating any more. She was quiet. She was soothing. She was motherly. She was worried. And she was worried for Rainbow Dash, not for Wonderbolt Airmare #15.

That was why Dash had joined the EUP.

Dash pushed herself to her hooves. “‘M fine, Your Highness,” she grunted. “Just tired and got a broken leg.”

“You should rest. Come, let’s get you back to camp.” Celestia reached around Dash with a wing and lightly nudged her forward.

“Wait,” mumbled Dash. “There’s a pony in the Palace. First room. Pinkamena Pie. She-” Dash coughed. “She’s bad, she needs help more than me. I’m not moving until I see her.”

Celestia looked up at the Palace above them, then back down at Dash. “Very well.” Her horn glowed and she was gone.

Dash flopped back to the ground, breathing deeply, but easily. Part of her said that Pinkamena was dead already. But it was a small part. Pinkamena was too… indomitable. You just couldn’t keep her down. Dash could hear her already: You didn’t think a dozen crystalline bullets to the face would do me in, did you?

The pegasus guards landed around her. One of them squinted down at her. “Hmm,” he said. “So it was you that broke through the shield last night.”

“Eeyup,” said Dash.

“Her Highness saw the shield collapse again just a few minutes ago and rushed over, hoping to save whoever was in here,” the guard said. “And, obviously, we arrived just in time.”

“Eeyup.”

After a few moments, Celestia returned, Pinkamena draped over her back. She was still bleeding, but it looked a lot better than Dash had feared, and the wounds (still with the crystals in them; Dash cringed) were already coagulating. Pinkamena herself was grinning and holding a hoof to her wounded eye.

“Hey, Dash,” she said. “Did we win?”

Dash nodded. “Yeah.” It was all she could say. She could hardly believe it herself.

“Yesssssss,” said Pinkamena, pumping her free hoof in spite of the crystals sticking out of it. “This calls for a party! My cannon’s gonna be busy tonight.”

“You don’t need a party,” Celestia said, “you need rest.” She spread her wings and smoothly lifted into the sky.

“There’s always a need for a party!” yelled Pinkamena. “You can’t keep the party down! You can’t keep the party down!”

To Dash, however, rest sounded like an excellent idea. She spread her own wings and, slightly supported by the guards, followed after them.

Celestia was giving a speech in the Crystal Empire. Dash wasn’t there in person, but she still heard it. Magic carried Celestia’s voice for miles with no loss of volume.

“…and the road back will be hard. But we shall travel it to the end, and we shall travel it together. We shall not be broken, for we have friendship.”

She’d been going at it for a while. Celestia was a great princess, but Dash always thought her speeches ran on too long. She’d started at, what, 3:00? And now it was something like 4:20. Just say what you need to say and get it over with.

“Friendship holds us together. It is stronger than you or I or any one of us could imagine. It is what kept us going in the darkest of times. It did not fail us then, it shall not fail us now.”

Sometimes Dash wondered how much Celestia hurt from the war. A lot? Probably. If so, she was good at hiding it. She’d had millennia to practice, after all. And she’d been on the front lines. Seen her ponies die. It wasn’t like she sat on her throne and threw her soldiers away to die like so many broken toys. Celestia probably hurt quite a bit. It was reassuring to Dash, the thought that even Celestia felt the pain of the war and it wasn’t just her.

“With the magic of friendship, we shall overcome this calamity. We shall welcome the Crystal Ponies back into the fold of Equestria. And, over the years, we shall rebuild. Thank you.”

Dash could hear the roar of approval from the Crystal Empire even though she was well outside it. Must’ve been a good speech. She hadn’t been paying much attention. She had her own things to look after.

There was an improvised faux-cemetery outside the camp, with lots of crude gravestone substitutes. Nopony was buried there; their bodies had been taken away, to wherever their families wished them to be buried. This was just a way for ponies in the field to pay their respects until they got home and could visit the actual grave. Some markers already had items on them. Dash wasn’t the only one there, either. Here was a father and daughter holding each other next to the mother’s marker. There was somepony talking to the marker of a friend. And so on and so forth.

Dash stood over Thunderlane’s marker, a cast over her broken leg and a paper flower in her mouth. She couldn’t find any actual flowers, not this far north. Some ponies were making these paper substitutes and giving them away, free of charge. It was the principle of the offering, not the actual flower. She leaned down and delicately placed the flower on the snow. A few simple enchantments in the paper kept it from blowing away in the wind.

“Mesonoxian,” Dash said dully, “means ‘of or relating to midnight’. Sorry I had to hear that from somepony else, buddy.” She blinked a few tears out of her eyes and turned away, limping out of the cemetery.

She’d won the war. But she still felt empty. Thunderlane had still died because she wasn’t fast enough, and nothing would change that. It’d nag at her for the rest of her life, sucking at her like a leech. She’d failed him. She’d repaid the favor, but she’d still failed him. It was almost an insult, the way the war had ended because of her reactions in response to that. He died, so the war was done. But if he’d lived, it’d still be going. Dash admitted that this was probably the better option, broadly speaking. It definitely didn’t feel like it.

Someone yelled out. “Hey! Rainbow Dash!”

It was Chalcedona. She was standing at the edges of the cemetery, waving, and trotted up to Dash. “Hey.” She looked at the graves and muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” lied Dash. “What… what’re you doing out here?”

“Chasing Beryllia,” said Chalcedona. She glanced around. “She and I were going to visit your friend, whatshername, Pinkie. I wanted to thank her again. I’d heard she was wounded, but she wasn’t in the hospital tent. We went looking at other places, but Beryllia got into a snowball fight with some other foals along the way, and I chased her to here.”

She focused on Dash again. “But it’s good that I ran into you. I wanted to thank you again for saving Beryllia.”

“I’m just doing my job. You don’t need to thank me.”

Chalcedona sighed. “You don’t get how much you’ve done for me, do you? Dash, Beryllia was… is the light of my life. She’s one of the best things that ever happened to me. And I was missing her for months.” She wiped her eyes. “Do, do you know what it’s like, to not know what’s going with someone close to you? I-” She sniffed. “This sounds terrible, but I-I almost would’ve preferred her d-dead. At least then, I would’ve h-had closure. And as more and m-more towns were freed, I k-kept hearing n-nothing, and I… I…” She stopped and took a few deep breaths to steady her speech.

“Then, just when I’m ready to give up, you come along, with Beryllia safe and sound. I couldn’t believe it. It… It really was a miracle to me, Dash. An honest-to-Celestia miracle. I could spend a year thanking you for it, and it still wouldn’t be enough.” Chalcedona looked Dash straight in the eyes. “It meant everything to me. Please don’t write it off as ‘just doing your job’. It might be to you, but it isn’t to me.”

Dash was stunned. She’d never thought about it that way, never thought it’d run that deep. The idea of raising a family had never been that appealing to her, not even before the war, so she’d never given it much thought. She knew her parents loved her when she was a filly, but she’d always thought some of talk of just how much they’d loved her was exaggeration. She’d never imagined they’d be serious.

If she’d really lifted Chalcedona’s spirits up that much-

“Beryllia!” called out Chalcedona. “Come on, come here!”

Beryllia poked her head over a snowdrift. Her mane had been cleaned and trimmed to look more even, and her ribbon was sparkling again. The side of her head was plastered with snow from where a snowball had hit her. “Aw, come on, Mom! Three more minutes!”

“You wanted to see Pinkie, right? When that’s done, you can come back here and stay out as long as you want! As long as you’re back for dinner!”

“Okay! Be back in a sec, guys!” Beryllia stumbled over the drift towards them.

Chalcedona glanced at Dash. “But, like I said, she wasn’t in the hospital tent. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”

“Actually, I have a pretty good idea.”

Pinkamena’s voice was ringing out clearly as the group approached the “kitchens”. She was singing. It was a bright tune, bouncy and mellow, perfectly suited to her bubbly voice. “…and you fill me with good cheer!”

Pinkamena was the only one around, and she was staring intently at one of the field ovens, completely ignoring the bandages down her side. Just as Dash was about to talk to her, the timer dinged. Pinkamena promptly stuffed her good front leg in an oven mitt, threw the oven open, and pulled out a dozen chocolate cupcakes. She was still singing as she placed the tin on a table, right next to an already-baked-and-decorated dozen. “It’s true some days are dark and lonely…”

She began shuffling through a pile of… random stuff nearby. “And maybe you feel sad…” She found a container of frosting and zipped back to the cupcakes. “But Pinkie will be there to show you that it isn’t that bad!” She began spreading the frosting liberally across the cupcakes.

Dash cleared her throat. “Hey. Pinkamena.”

Pinkamena looked up and grinned. She already had an eyepatch; it was holding down a bandage over her socket. “Hiya, Dashie! Hiya, Chalcedona! Hiya, Beryllia!”

Chalcedona flinched back a little when she saw Pinkamena’s eyepatch. Not Beryllia. “Cool!” She zoomed up right next to Pinkamena. “You look like a pirate! How’d you get it?” She reached out to touch it.

Pinkamena lightly nudged Beryllia’s hoof away. “I can’t tell you now. Maybe when you’re older.”

“But I’m old!”

“Not too old for cupcakes, I hope!” Pinkamena lifted Beryllia up and put her on the table. “These decorated ones? Those’re yours. Don’t touch these ones, they’re still hot, you’ll burn yourself and we don’t want that.”

Beryllia turned to Chalcedona. “Can I, Mom? Please please pleeeaaase?”

“I… I suppose so,” Chalcedona said hesitantly. “One.” She turned to Pinkamena. “I just wanted to thank you again for returning my daughter to me. It’s… I don’t know what to say.”

“‘Thank you’ is enough,” said Pinkamena, wiping crumbs off her face as Beryllia devoured her cupcake. “Actually, it’s more than enough. The smile on your face when you saw her again was enough.”

“Still, thank you again. I said one, Beryllia!”

“But Moooom,” said Beryllia, reluctantly withdrawing her hoof, “that was the best cupcake ever! I can’t have just one!”

“You’ll spoil your appetite!”

“But-”

Pinkamena cleared her throat. “Actually…” She pulled out a bag and tipped the remaining cupcakes in. “I made these all for you. I Pinkie Promised a dozen cupcakes.” She laid the bag on the table, but before Beryllia could reach out, Pinkamena pulled it out of her reach. “On one condition. You listen to your mom, okay? She knows what’s best for you, so if she says no cupcakes until tomorrow, no cupcakes until tomorrow. Promise?”

“Promise!” Beryllia was nodding so hard it looked like her head was going to come off.

“Then happy cupcaking!” Pinkamena pushed the bag to Beryllia. Beryllia looked about to reach in before Chalcedona glared at her and yanked the bag away.

“Come on, Beryllia, we’d better get back to the tent,” Chalcedona said. She picked the straps up in her teeth. “Fank yew, Inkie. Fank yew, Daff.” She left the tent, Beryllia close behind.

Pinkamena sat down on her haunches, smiling happily. “And that’s another Pinkie Promise taken care of. What about you, Dash? Want some cupcakes?”

“Sure.” Dash reached out for a cupcake.

Pinkamena slapped Dash’s hoof away. “Not now, silly, they’re still hot! Give them a minute to cool. You don’t want to burn your tongue, do you?”

“I guess not,” Dash said, rubbing her hoof. When Pinkamena got protective of her treats, she got protective. “Broke out of the hospital tent?”

“Yep! Otherwise, I’d never get any baking time.” Pinkamena placed her eyes (well, eye) level with the tin, scanning some aspect of the frosting Dash couldn’t see. “I made a Pinkie Promise to make cupcakes but the doctors wanted me to stay put and not make cupcakes so I had to give them the slip so I could make cupcakes and just as I was making cupcakes you and Chalcedona and Beryllia showed up so it all turned out super amazing!” She frowned and skimmed a miniscule bit of frosting from one of the cupcakes. “And then I thought, why should Beryllia get all the fun? I’m here, so I might as well make some for my tentmates. And since I’m making them for injured ponies, these ones gotta be extra special perfect.”

“They look fine to me.”

Pinkamena huffed. “Yeah, but you’re not a cupcake connoisseur, like moi. They’re really really really really good, but I’m not so sure they’re perfectly perfect in their perfect perfection.”

“Hmm.”

After a few more moments of staring at the cupcakes, Pinkamena said, “Anyway, thanks for stopping by. It’s always nice to see a friend.”

“Mostly, I was just helping Chalcedona and Beryllia find you,” Dash said. “I wasn’t worried, I knew you’d be doing okay.”

“Of course I’m doing okay!” Pinkamena said with a grin. “Why wouldn’t I be doing okay? You’re still here, we won the war, I’ve got a sweet new scar, and I’m about to enjoy some delicious cupcakes!” She touched one, then yanked her hoof back, shaking it. “Once they cool off.” She stuffed her burned hoof in her mouth and sucked.

“It’s just… you’re taking this really well. I mean, you lost an eye, and your response is, ‘Cool scar!’?” Dash sighed. “I wish I had your enthusiasm.”

Pinkamena pulled her hoof out of her mouth. “You just gotta look on the bright side,” she said as she began cleaning up. “You can’t be Downer Dash all the time, and I can’t be Party Pooper Pinkie all the time. Start looking at the world with a frown on your face, and that’s all you’ll see, grumpy pants.”

Dash blinked, stared. “Pinkamena, one of my best friends died in front of my eyes thanks to a unicorn — someone I personally saved, no less — getting taken over by dark magic and killing him. And you want me to look at the bright side?”

Pinkamena sighed, and when she talked, her voice was unusually serious. “Look. Dash. I’m not saying that the world’s totally okie-dokie, ‘cause it isn’t. But already I can tell that you’re saying the world is totally anti-okie-dokie.”

“I’m not-”

“You are.” Pinkamena laid a hoof on Dash’s shoulder. “Dash, I lost a sister in this war. I know how you feel. But you can’t let it grow super huge and take over your life. If Thunderdude came back as a ghost and started haunting you, would you want him raving about how you’re still moping over his death? Don’t forget about him, that’s silly, just remember that there are other things in life besides your friends kicking the bucket. I mean, the war’s over. That’s good, right?”

“I guess so.”

“See? And that’s just the start!” Pinkamena lightly jabbed Dash in the ribs. “There’s a bright side and a dark side to everything in life. I stay happy by looking at the bright side.” She worked a cupcake out of the tin. “After all, the bright side has cupcakes.” She held it out to Dash.

Dash stared at it for a second. Thunderlane was dead, but… the war was over. It was still sinking in for her. No more deaths. No more fighting. Equestria would go back to the way it was, minus some destroyed towns and cities. Thunderlane may not have been able to see it. But she could. Pinkamena could. Chalcedona and Beryllia could. That was worth something.

Also, cupcakes.

Dash took the offered cupcake. It was a bit hot, but it tasted spectacular, as all of Pinkamena’s baked goods did.

Pinkamena broke out in a grin. “You like it?”

Dash nodded. She didn’t say anything, as her mouth was full.

“Super! Hate to run, but I gotta get these over to the hospital while they’re still warm. Bye!” Pinkamena shot out the door with the cupcake tin.

Dash stood in silence, slowly eating her cupcake. Life wasn’t that great at the moment. But it wasn’t that bad. She didn’t have to worry daily about dying anymore. She didn’t have to fight. She didn’t have to eat field rations. She didn’t have to spend every free nanosecond training her tail off. It could’ve been better, but it was good enough.

Then Pinkamena leaned back in. “Oh, and Dash, since you kept your Pinkie Promise about staying alive and the war’s over, I was wondering if you wanted to have Hearth’s Warming with me when it comes around. It’ll be great! You can meet all the family! I even met this new cousin that I think you’ll get along super great with, and she’s coming over, too!”

Dash frowned. “A new cousin? How do you miss a cousin? As far as extended families go, they’re pretty close.”

“Well, she’s actually a fifth cousin twice removed by a fourth cousin. But that’s totally like real cousins!”

“If you say so.”

“So whaddya think? You gonna come?” Pinkamena made a big eye, going for the puppy-dog route. Somehow, it worked even with the patch. “Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaase? It’ll be the most super amazing thing ever!”

Dash smiled. “You know what, Pinkie? I think I’d like that.”