Far to the north, beyond even the Crystal Empire, there was a valley, a quiet haven of life amidst the iron wrath of the mountains. It was a comfortable place, far removed from danger and strife, but small, unable to support more than maybe a village. In these dark days, it held not even that; only one still dwelt there, amidst the ruins of an ancient civilization, living in a cave that was once the seat of a hall of mighty kings and queens. She was ancient, and mighty, if broken in power. She had dwelt there when ponies still lived in the Unknown West, and had been old when the Windigos came.

She would soon be receiving a visitor, if only Celestia could snatch the time. The Solar Alicorn sighed quietly, the breath so subtle that none but her sister could ever have caught it. She needed her mother’s guidance, needed to know just what her father had done all those millennia ago. A darkness unlike anything seen since had befallen the world then, and only King Angelus had stood against it. How had he done it?

Celestia wished for Starswirl, as she often did in these hours of crisis. She wished he had not disappeared, or that at least his notes were more comprehensible. But still, Celestia had not ruled for a thousand years by living on wishes. This was a time to act, not yet to dream. And so she signed another proposal, reading through the mountains of paperwork set before her at a speed no pony save Twilight could match.

Time was short. She was needed at another War Council meeting in less than an hour. There, she decided, she would need to appoint a Steward to manage the ad hoc armies protecting her lands. Somepony to administer the State and somehow coordinate the Royal Guard, Equestrian Army, various militias, mercenaries, and paramilitaries which constituted her realm’s home defense. And above all, somepony who could deal with the Blood Angels.

They worried her, these mad, alien warriors. There was something about them, something she could not quite define, that seemed almost, blasphemously, familiar. But any time she almost saw a point of connection, some commonality that would allow her to understand them, there it was again, the raw violence by and for which they lived.

But the hour was late, Celestia noted, sensing the slow orbit of the sun, and she could give no more thought to such matters. She needed a proxy, and soon. Perhaps Twilight? Celestia stifled a small giggle. She doted on her student, loved her as a mother loves her daughter, but still she feared the Princess of Friendship was not yet ready for such a burden. Twilight was young, and though she had grown much over the years, was far from ready to rule a kingdom. And yet, who else was there?

Shining Armor and Cadence were far to the north, Luna in the west. What few commanders she had were old or deployed, and none were suited for politics. Of course, Twilight was equally unprepared for the task. Or was she? Celestia paused, her telekinetic grip on her pen failing for a moment. For all her worries, Twilight was still an Alicorn princess. She had, with the aid of her friends, defeated Discord and Tirek, free her sister Luna, and even cast Sunset Shimmer from her throne.

“Sunset,” Celestia whispered, a tear in her eye. Is it wrong, she wondered. To wish you were here? Sunset, for all her old flaws, would have been perfect for the task. Cold-hearted and ruthless where Twilight was loving and compassionate; willing to make any sacrifice to gain the strategic advantage. As intelligent as Twilight or Starlight, and roughly the equal of either in power. She would make a brutal but effective commander in this war.

Or would she? Celestia shook her head, and cast away the gnawing doubts. For all Sunset’s cunning, learning, and raw power, she had ultimately failed. Twilight and the friendships she forged overcame Sunset’s dark powers, and ended that horrid crisis. Celestia smiled proudly despite herself, thinking on how far her student had come. Twilight and her friends had succeeded then, and they would again. Together, they were unstoppable. The Solar Alicorn allowed a brief laugh.

“Let this Chaos do its worst! We shall beat it, united, as we always do,” she boasted to the air.

The decision was made. Twilight would serve as her proxy while she herself went away, to seek out the aid they required. Celestia hoped the trip would not be long, as every minute counted in these dark days, but in the depth of her heart she doubted any such respite. After all, a visit to the house of one’s mother is rarely short, especially when one is coming to discuss her late father. This rule holds for all beings, great and small, from the lowest colt to the highest alicorn.

***

Spike found himself in quite the odd place these days. In all he could remember of his life, he defined himself as “Twilight’s Assistant,” her aide and helper. He prided himself on knowing her moods and habits, on anticipating her needs and fulfilling her wishes. He was also something like her son, and something like her brother, though neither of them had ever quite made sense of what that relationship really was.

But these days, he seemed to be none of these things. Twilight was busy, called away often to rush from meeting to meeting, rarely stopping even to so much as greet Spike in the hall. This, unfortunately, left Spike with little recourse when, after the horrors of Manehattan, he made several unnerving discoveries about himself. To sum it up neatly, he had aged, in a way he had not since his particularly embarrassing episode of utter greed had turned him into a mindless beast. But he felt no less in control this time; no urge to steal or maim fell upon him. If anything, the world simply seemed clearer.

He was taller, and stronger. His scales had grown tougher, and his flame hotter. Strange feelings came upon him he could not quite grasp or describe. And now, just as he needed somepony to talk to, to confide in, he was left alone. He had considered speaking to Starlight, but she too was busy, often running after Twilight between the meetings.

So he did what he always did in such situations: he went to Rarity. Not that she was much help either.

It was the strangest thing. For years now, Spike had willingly served Rarity almost as well as he did Twilight, following along with whatever small or inconsequential task she set before him as though he had been set to guard Celestia’s Crown. Long had he loved Rarity, and long had he struggled for her favour.

But today something felt different. There was something off about Rarity, had been ever since they escaped Manehattan. It took Spike some time to process what felt different, but in time he pieced it together.

She seemed to at last be reciprocating his feelings for her. And yet somehow, it felt empty.

These past two weeks, she had doted on him, spending long hours in his company. A haze of joy and pleasure fell on Spike whenever he was with Rarity. Yet every time Spike had to leave, he felt drained, as though all her energy were sucked out of him. And as the weeks passed and he acclimated to his new, more mature body, he began to think, to wonder why, if he was finally getting what he wanted, he felt so terrible.

Spike shook his head. He could worry about such things later. Right now, the Parliament was meeting for another war council, and he needed to attend.

Hopefully afterwards he could find someone to talk to.

***

The Librarian Renato was growing worried.

Twice now he had been forced to sit through sessions of the xenos Parliament, and twice he had left restraining the Thirst boiling in his veins. These creatures, these foppish alien nobles, had no idea how to prosecute a war. He yearned for the wars of old he had fought, leading the speartip of the Imperium into battle against Orks or the perfidious Tau.

He looked out on the gathering aristocrats and diplomatic representatives, and he despaired. None showed the strength they needed in this hour of trial, none the resolve required of a commander in war. Perhaps Alessandro could have forced them into some manner of efficiency, but Renato doubted he himself could manage any such feat. The mark of the Emperor was on these xenos, and so he held faith that they were of purpose, but he had yet to find any clue as to what it was. They were kind and compassionate, weaklings in the face of an uncaring galaxy.

A shock of fury burst through Renato’s mind. For a brief second, his eyes flared with empyreal flame. With the discipline of the Blood Angels Librarius, he swallowed his rage.

“Orlando,” Renato whispered to the Champion at his side. “Do you see anything wrong? I feel a dire portent.”

Orlando scanned the parliament. “I see xenos, and I see us standing idly by. I obey the Chaplain, and know he would never lead us from the Emperor’s Light, but in the face of this,” The Company Champion angrily gestured to the xenos. “I can see… Forgive me, Librarian. I have let the Thirst rule my words.”

Renato placed his hand on Orlando’s shoulder. “The Emperor Protects, brother. Alessandro will rise again, this I swear. But for now, we must fight on. And I cannot shake the feeling that something here is wrong.”

“I know, I know. But what chance have we? Many hours you and I have discussed the war and our strategy, and no solution can be found. The Emperor must have mercy on us, for nothing else can win this war,” Orlando said, sighing. “But I suppose that debate is now pointless. You know my stance: we should gather what forces we have and make a final assault on the enemy, die in honour and blood. But I will stand by your wisdom, and await their coming, or a miracle.”

“You are brave, Orlando, but not yet wise,” Renato said with a half-smile. “The Thirst burns in us all, driving us to war and slaughter. But wars are won by thought and cunning, especially when we face a foe superior in numbers and armament. But The Emperor Protects, and we will prevail. We must, for he has chosen this world for some purpose.”

“You speak of the symbols on their souls?”

“Yes. Only the Emperor could have made such an impression on the souls of an entire species. But why? They are xenos, and of a world beyond even the reach of the Astronomicon. What grand scheme has the Master of Mankind prepared for these creatures? Until we know, they must survive, and that means we cannot die yet. But come, the meeting is starting.”

Soon the session began, as it always did, with meaningless speeches which never failed to vividly remind the Librarian of the most pompous Planetary Governors he had met. Various nobles spoke meaningless drivel, and arguments over pointless side-affairs perpetually broke out. Renato watched with disdain, his posthuman gaze scouring the room for any sign of danger. He noted, as an aside, that the xenos Celestia appeared to be just as exasperated as he was with the entire affair.

Renato kept scanning the room, even as the speeches and debates rolled by. They concerned nothing he cared about, and what little information was truly relevant to the true war effort he could easily absorb without direct attention. Such were the benefits of genhanced physiology. He watched, looking for any hint of treachery or abnormality. He also snickered at that thought; in such a world as this, in such days as these, what did ideas of normalcy matters?

At last, something was said that mattered, and Renato slipped out of his searching.

Celestia stood up and addressed the War Council. “I regret to inform you that for reasons of national security, I must take a leave of absence from Canterlot. I cannot tell you why at this time, but I assure you it is of the utmost importance to the war effort. In the meantime, I will not leave you without guidance, and so I am appointing Princess Twilight Sparkle as War Regent in my absence. Treat her words as you would my own.”

Renato stroked his chin. Interesting. He began to ponder the implications. With a small portion of his superhuman mind, he observed the frantic confusion of Twilight as she scrambled to respond. She was unready, of that he was sure. She lacked the experience to run a state even in peace, let alone amidst such a war as this. But, that very naivete could prove useful. And she was pliable, considered him a friend. He had little concept of ‘friendship’ outside the Astartes, and even less outside the human species, but he did considered Twilight the subject of some manner of strange affection.

The Librarian stood. “If I may speak, on behalf of the Blood Angels, I wish to congratulate Twilight Sparkle on her appointment. May she serve well. And in all things, we shall support her.”

Renato sat, and Orlando hissed in his ear. “What was that for? Who cares about the organization of the xenos government?”

“Because, good Champion, I need more information. The Emperor imbued this world with some importance, and if we are to win we must know it. Therefore, I want access to their hidden archives, and that end will be well served by taking advantage of Twilight’s favour while she is in charge.”

“I pray it works. And that we survive.”

Renato sighed. “On that, we are agreed.”