Our minds are not designed to comprehend the activities of crystalline spirit trees on the Astral Plane. As such, we must settle for a rough approximation of what will soon happen amidst its mists and beneath its strange stars, using humanized forms of the ones involved for the sake of convenience.

From a certain point of view, the Tree of Harmony approached her daughter, who was in a mental state that approximated sitting and sulking with her arms crossed. Harmony put a proverbial hand on Junior's figurative shoulder and metaphorically said, "Hey, Honey. You doing okay?"

Junior turned away, wrenched her toy-castle-shaped hat back into place, and huffed, "I'm fine."

Harmony couldn't help but smile. "Oh dear. I had hoped that I wouldn't have to deal with an adolescent for another few centuries."

Junior just rolled her eyes.

"We really do need to talk, though."

"Fine. It's not like I can talk to anyone else right now." Junior scowled at her bracelet, its large crystal disc marred by a few hairline cracks.

"That's why we need to talk. You shouldn't have done that to the human Twilight. We should only guide, not command."

Junior sprung up to her feet. "I can't guide if I can't talk to them! And they don't know anything about the Map! For all they know, it's supposed to never work again. If they're just going to leave me mute for the rest of my life, I might as well find some other way to communicate."

Harmony shook her head. "There's communicating, and then there's directly nudging brains. That's a slippery slope you're on, young lady."

"She didn't have to follow my directions."

"No, but direct mental interfaces like that lead to dark places. Harmony has to be in balance with all things, including itself." Harmony shut her eyes. "Taking such a direct approach can lead to a bunch of empty, self-satisfied smiles not accomplishing anything."

After a few moments of silence, Junior said, "You seem to know an awful lot about this."

"We all have youthful indiscretions we're not proud of." Seeing that Junior still looked unsure, Harmony added, "The future's never very clear, but I can say with some confidence that they're going to know something's wrong in a matter of moons. Just trust them."

"Well..." Junior heaved a sigh. "Okay. I guess."

Harmony smiled. "Attagirl."

There were no more once-upon-a-times in what once had been the magical land of Equestria. The sun was a dying ember, the moon a derelict wreck, and any timekeepers long dead. There were only the untended clouds above, the shifting dust below, and her coasting between them.

She had accepted this state of affairs, had finished mourning the Equestria that had been. There had been anger and blame shifting. There had been desperate attempts to correct her mistake once she saw all else wither and die around her, long after her efforts might have made a difference. Now she drifted, her heart as cold and indifferent as the world she ruled by default.

Something registered in her senses. Faint, yes, but a pin dropped in an otherwise silent auditorium. It took her a moment to place the sensation, and once she did, she nearly fell out of the sky in her shock.

Magic. There was magic somewhere else. There could be life somewhere else.

She pumped her wings, even her muscles aching in protest after their long motionlessness. She paid no heed to the discomfort, intent on the possibility of something else, someone else out there. In her long transit, she noted that she had no idea what she might do when she finally found it.

Another flare of magic spurred her onward, helped steer her toward the source after she had drifted a bit off-course. And when she arrived...

Nothing. No motion.

She snarled and landed hard enough to crack the dead earth. A bare husk of a tree fell over, catching her eye. It brought to mind another tree, how she had watched its colors fade, watched it crumble into dead stone.

She never saw the blast. She just felt her moon-marked crown heat up, and then the fallen trunk became splinters and flames that dwindled to cinders even as she watched.

Snarling, she turned to go, when she noticed that there was something else there, a low table made from a painfully familiar material. It still glittered weakly, but the poor light and scouring breeze were doing their best to change that.

The crown burned against her skull once more as she erected a shield. She opened the saddlebags she'd never been able to leave behind. From one pocket, she pulled out crumbling chunks of the Tree of Harmony.

From the other, she pulled out its fruit.

She arranged five of the Elements on the table. The sixth she left in her crown for now. She still needed the power; there was no telling if the broken portal would pull her magic from her otherwise. Besides, the crown itself had long since fused to her skull.

She took a deep breath. "Well," she said, her voice creaking from long disuse, "let's begin."

And Sunset Shimmer, demon queen of dust, began to experiment.