Starlight stared at her omnitool, releasing the breath that she had been holding.

“What is it?” asked Twilight.

“Two ships,” she said. “They broke off from the main battle and started converging on our position.”

Twilight appeared immensely concerned. “Have they scanned us?”

“No,” said Starlight. “They just went dark. I don’t know why, but they’re not a threat anymore.”

“That is a relief,” sighed Twilight. “Because we are so very close. If we were to fail now…” She shook her head.

“We won’t,” said Starlight.

“No,” replied Twilight, “no we won’t.”

Both of them sat back in silence for a moment, staring at the red-orange star that they were rapidly approaching. Starlight was somewhat confused as to why they were approaching it, but Twilight had given her very specific instructions with regard to the course.

“It shouldn’t be that color,” said Twilight, frowning.

“It’s the same color it’s always been,” said Starlight. “Or at least that I’ve ever seen. Apparently it shifted to that color a few years after you left. I wasn’t aware of it for the longest time.”

“How could you not see the sun change color?”

Starlight turned her head and pointed at her eyes. “Because my eyes got burnt out of my head staving your niece’s ass, and cybernetic eyes don’t see color very well.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” said Twilight. She turned back to the star outside. “I didn’t realize. You wouldn’t happen to have an aversion to stars, though, would you?”

“If you mean do I want to jump into one again? No. No I don’t.”

“Ah. About that…” Twilight opened an interface and encoded the coordinates for Twilight. Starlight stared at them, and then at Twilight.

“You’re kidding.”

“No. I’m not.”

“No. You ARE. Because otherwise, you’re insane.”

“I’m not insane. Don’t you trust me, Starlight?”

Starlight groaned. “I do,” she said, resetting the course. “But if this kills us- -”

“It won’t kill us.”

“But if it DOES, I am going to strangle you so hard!”

“With hooves?”

“With. HOOVES.”

Both of them laughed for a moment, even though Starlight was still quite uncertain of what Twilight had just told her to do. Still, she did trust Twilight, and she pushed her ship forward to the star. As she did, various systems began alert her to the obvious danger of flying that close to an active sun. The most obvious problem was the heat. Even with a tactical cloak redirecting most of the light around Starlight’s ship, the outer hull was beginning to heat drastically.

The gravity was also becoming an issue. Starlight felt the ship accelerating uncontrollably as she moved closer and closer to the star’s surface. She compensated for it as best as she could, drawing on extensive experience with this sort of thing. If she had been any less of a pilot, she knew that she likely would have crashed into the star below.

There ship began to vibrate, and the temperature inside was increasing drastically. Internally, the ship’s cooling system was beginning to overload. “You need to be exactly over the coordinates I gave you,” said Twilight, her voice now reflecting the urgency that Starlight was feeling.

“I’m trying,” muttered Starlight. “This isn’t exactly easy!”

Then, all at once, the shaking stopped. Starlight opened several interfaces, checking the systems, thinking something had gone horribly wrong. What she found did not assuage her concern: the gravity pull had ceased, and the radiation levels on the ship’s hull were almost completely vacant. The ship was in fact cooling.

“What the hell?” said Starlight, trying to reboot the sensor array.

“Don’t bother,” said Twilight, smiling wide and showing her distinctly non-pointed teeth. “We’re here.”

Starlight looked through the primary viewscreen. She had been forced to close the blast shield over the main window to prevent both her and Twilight from being incinerated, and it took a moment for the ship’s frontal cameras to adapt to the fact that they were staring into a star at point-blank range.

That was when Starlight saw what could only be described as a crack in the star. She leaned forward, thinking she was seeing some kind of visual artifact. It was no artifact, though. There was a groove cut into the star, bordered on each side by structures of white-hot metal that must have been the size of several planets.

“What in the name of Celestia…”

“Exactly,” said Twilight, taking Starlight’s omnitool in her hooves. Starlight was so perplexed that she did not even mind. “Now let’s just take us down a little bit.”

The ship began to descend, and the crack in the star grew wider and closer. As they did, Twilight issued an access code linked to her personal IFF. The star responded, and the crack seemed to become wider, opening and revealing even more metal beneath the star’s surface.

Starlight could not take her eyes off of it. A machine had been built into the star, and somehow, despite being surrounded by solar plasma, it not only stayed intact but it still functioned. As she watched, a circular door of impossible proportions slid apart, creating a hole small enough for a small planet to fit through.

The ship entered the doorway, and immediately its surroundings began to become darker. The first few thousand miles of metal were still red-hot, but they began to cool with depth, eventually becoming red hot and finally cold and dark.

“What is this?” said Starlight, turning to Twilight as several smaller lights erupted on either side of the channel, illuminating the ship’s descent. “This isn’t a star, is it?”

Twilight smiled. “No. Not really.”

The descent took some time, but with Twilight’s guidance, it was not difficult. The innards of the star seemed to have been assembled to be populated by ships far larger than Starlight’s, even though there was no evidence that anyone had been present at all for several centuries at least.

They eventually came to a landing pad and departed their ship. Twilight was unusually excited, and quickly made her way to the airlock while Starlight completed the shutdown procedures and disconnected her omnitool. The process only took a few moments, but was the first time Starlight found herself alone since the mission had begun. She sat for a moment, listening to the miniscule hum of the ship’s engine wind down. As she did, she reached into one of her pockets and removed a small glass-like tube.

She stared at the tube for a long moment, and the fragment of living metal within seemed to stare back at her. It had been Beri’s gift to her- -her last- -and Starlight had only brought it to make sure that it never left her sight.

For a long moment, though, Starlight considered leaving it on the ship. She did not know what she and Twilight were going to be walking into, and if it went bad, she did not want to have somebody pull an artifact like this off of her corpse.

“Stupid,” she said to herself. “You stupid pony…”

“Starlight?” Twilgiht poked her head into the bridge. “Are you coming? I really could use your help.”

“Sure,” said Starlight, slipping the tube back into her pocket and sliding out of her chair. “I’m on my way.”

Starlight was hesitant to leave, thinking that the air would be exceedingly hot, or that there would be no air at all. In actuality, though, she found that the atmosphere was both cool and breathable.

“This shouldn’t be possible,” she said, looking up at the walls that loomed over her at an impossible scale.

“I think that’s what I thought when I was first brought here as a filly,” mused Twilight, stepping onto the platform. “But it is, and always has been, and will always be.”

“Is this Celestia?” asked Starlight. She was beginning to become dizzy from looking up and instead directed her attention toward the still enormous but much more reasonably sized path that Twilight had begun to follow.

Twilight laughed. “No, of course not! This is just the star. Celestia is a pony, the same as you and me. And I think she will be very glad to meet you.”

Unable to control her excitement, Twilight bounded forward and then took flight. Starlight galloped after her, although with far more hesitation. It was not just that everything surrounding her seemed so absurd, but something deeper. Something about this place felt very wrong.

The first signs came quickly. Twilight had led Starlight down a long, wide hall. It was mostly dark, save for a few lights that lit the corridor at the joints between its cyclopean segments. For the most part, the architecture was regular and simple. In fact, Starlight found it somewhat familiar, and after a few minutes she realized why: it was the same style that One had designed most of the Temple of Harmony in.

That in itself was not an issue. The walls were smooth and made of some dark and poorly lit metal, which though uninviting was not overtly disturbing. What indicated the problem, though, was when that architecture gave way to the equipment that began to line the borders of the halls.

Twilight stopped abruptly, staring at the extensive machinery and the long conduits connected to it that trailed down the dark, long hallway.

“This shouldn’t be here,” she said. Her voice sent a chill down Starlight’s spine.

“Why? What is it?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t here before.”

Twilight lifted her hoof and brushed it through the scale and condensation on the machine’s surface. As she wiped it away, she suddenly jumped back.

“No!” she cried. “Oh no, NO!”

“Twilight, what’s wrong, I don’t- -”

Twilight immediately started galloping at full speed down the hallway, seeming to have forgotten that she had wings. Starlight chased after her, but pulled herself to a stop just in time to check what Twilight had actually seen. The instant she saw it, she understood Twilight’s reaction completely.

The front plate of the machine was marked with a symbol: a hexagon, open at the bottom and flanked by two orange brackets. It was the symbol of Cerberus.

For several minutes, Starlight found herself becoming increasingly lost. Twilight had rushed ahead so quickly that Starlight had lost her. Without Twilight, Starlight started to become increasingly unnerved by the halls and structure around her. It was so large, but at the same time so empty and dark. That loneliness seemed to eat into Starlight, and she found herself getting closer and closer to the verge of panic as she desperately tried to find Twilight or anyone at all to keep her company and prevent her from being alone.

Eventually, she just started to run, not caring where she was going as long as it was away. Logically, though, she knew that to do so was pointless: she was in a facility the size of a star. It was the size of thousands of planets, and no doubt was filled completely with halls identical to the one she found herself passing through. That thought did not calm her. It only made her fear worse.

Then, suddenly, she stopped. The corridors had just seemed to end, leaving Starlight in a large and flat room. She stopped and waited for her eyes to adjust, only to find that they could not. The room appeared to have no edge, but rather to fade into blackness. The ceiling and floor were both visible, though, and not especially far apart.

The only light came from a small, dim speck a few hundred feet away. A set of conduits had been laid out of the edge of the hallway and across the floor, leading toward that light. Starlight immediately knew that she was meant to go toward it, but at the same time wanted nothing more than to turn and go back into the darkened halls. Somehow, this room was even worse than they were.

Bravely, though, she pressed on, following the conduits toward her goal. As she drew closer, the light seemed to get brighter. Suddenly, Starlight became conscious of a sound in the darkness. It took her a moment longer to realize that it was weeping, and then another second to realize that it was Twilight.

At that point, Starlight ignored her fear completely and sprinted toward the light. It did not take her long to reach an area where the level of the floor suddenly changed, producing a low platform. When Starlight reached that and saw what had been built upon it, she immediately froze, unable to move forward anymore.

The platform supported a mass of ancient, strange equipment. Narrow tubes and hoses merged together into braided masses, rising both from the floor and descending from the ceiling. Starlight stared at the mass of supports and connectors, immediately understanding what they must have been.

What sat in their center only confirmed it. Although the body had long rotted away, the spine still remained connected to the machinery by the implants imbedded within it. Metal had come to overgrow the bones, holding some of them together, including the remnants of one enormous wing.

Most frightening, though, was that this was also the place where the Cerberus conduits converged. They linked to the machine, sometimes to where the spine was still linked and sometimes into other locations, connecting them to satellite hubs that had been assembled around the central platform.

Twilight lay at the base of the platform, holding something in her forelegs. As Starlight approached, she realized that it was a skull. Although the size of it was much greater than that of any living pony and the horn was almost hyperbolically long, it was clearly equine. Starlight did not need to get any closer to also see that like the spine it was covered in glimmering implants, all of which had long since gone silent.

“Celestia,” sobbed Twilight, cradling the skull in her hooves. “No! Please, no!”

“She was a Core,” whispered Twilight. “This whole time.”

“Of course she was,” said a voice. Starlight and Twilight both turned their heads sharply, but the instant Starlight had heard it she knew to whom it belonged.

One had been waiting for them, standing innocuously on the edge of the darkness in the far reaches of the room. She emerged from behind a large piece of equipment, her eyes locked on Starlight and a small turian blade floating near her head and rotating quickly in her magic.

This was the first time Starlight had ever seen One and Twilight in the same room together, and as soon as she did she felt like a fool. They looked completely different. It was not just a matter of One’s pointed teeth, but in the way her body was shaped. She was slightly taller and thinner than Twilight, with features that were a fraction narrower. Even her coat was different: it was darker, and grayer.

None of the differences were especially profound, but somehow, when taken together, they made a completely different pony. It was at that moment that Starlight was absolutely sure that pony that Thebe had created was the real Twilight.

“You!” shrieked Twilight, holding Celestia’s skull close to her as though One might try to steal it. “You did this!”

“Yes,” replied One, not even hesitating or attempting to lie. Her voice was completely flat and neutral, and her eyes never left Starlight. “I did. It was not even especially difficult. Not when I look like this.” She gestured to herself. “She trusted me, and let me get very close. And, well…” The knife she was holding suddenly stopped rotating. “It was quick. I used this blade, in fact. I slid it between her skull and spine. She felt no pain, and died receiving a hug from her ‘favorite student’.”

“But why?” asked Starlight. She was not especially angry, and although she was loathe to admit it, she actually found herself somewhat impressed.

“Why?” said One. “Because she and her sister needed to die.”

“YOU MONSTER!” screamed Twilight, standing up suddenly and causing the other various bones that had dropped from Celestia to rustle. Tears were running down her face. “She was a beautiful pony! All she ever wanted was peace, and the love of ponies!”

One’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Yes. ‘Love’ and ‘peace’, produced by standing above the world she supposedly rules and watching as the population destroys itself. Celestia and Luna, your world’s gods, content not just to witness countless wars, famines and plagues, all without intervening, but to obliterate your population every few thousand years with wars between themselves. Which one of us was the monster, Twilight Sparkle?”

“Don’t you dare say my name!”

“You killed them both,” said Starlight. She was still in disbelief.

“The Sun and Moon are symmetric. When Celestia died, Luna went with her. I must admit, I felt some remorse for Luna. It was truly only Celestia that needed to be removed.”

“For what?” Starlight looked around at the Cerberus equipment that was keeping the star alive even with its Core long dead. “So that you could take the throne? So that she couldn’t stop you?”

“Starlight,” said One, “you have to understand. This was the pony that oversaw the creation of Cores. From the very beginning. She watched the oligarchy corrupt Starswirls work, and she did nothing. She ruled the galaxy when earth-ponies were hunted and eaten by their unicorn lords, and when captured Pegasi were bred like farm animals until they were docile enough to serve as slaves. Every injustice that this galaxy has suffered, she watched it. And did NOTHING.”

“You murdered a Princess,” spat Twilight, wiping away the tears from her eyes. “It doesn’t matter what she did in the past! She was like a mother to me!”

“Because she gave you those wings only to seal you into crystal? Because the Crimson Horizon failed and because she wanted to give her beloved subjects a weapon capable of vaporizing planets at will?”

“Shut up! SHUT UP!”

“Are you even mad because she died? Or are you angry because I’ve disturbed your ossified social structure?”

Twilight screamed and charged down from the platform. There was a sound of a distant electrical discharge, and One was suddenly standing beside Starlight. Her knife had been drawn and coated with biotic energy, but was not pointed at Starlight. Twilight almost immediately faltered, and as she turned Starlight saw the immense gash that had been cut down her side and into the metal beneath her skin.

One stared at Starlight, and although she was close enough to have easily slain her, she did not. Instead, she lowered the blade she was holding.

“I do not want to die,” said One. “Even though I have no life of my own, the fragment that I do possess is very dear to me. But if I must go, so be it. Starlight, I must know.”

“Know what?”

“Do you hate me?”

One’s voice changed, wavering slightly as she spoke, as if she could not bear to receive the answer that she already knew. The change in her tone was only slight, but it affected Starlight greatly. Not only was One within range to strike her, but she was within range to strike One. Somehow, though, she found it impossible to move.

“You stole my magic,” said Starlight.

“I know,” said One, her expression falling. “Something I have regretted every day. The most selfish action of my life. I could not save your Core implants, and without them…Starlight, you’re not one of the nobility, nor do you know the cost they pay for their long lives. Limiting your magic keeps you young. Without it, you would have aged and…and left me all alone…”

Starlight stared at One for a moment, and out of the corner of her eye saw Twilight standing. The exposed metal in her side knit back together and her skin repaired itself.

“Two roads diverg- -”

One’s pupils suddenly narrowed to lethal points. “No you don’t!” she cried, teleporting across the expanse between them and summoning a biotic construct which she rammed through the side of Twilight’s neck, momentarily removing her ability to speak.

Although she was injured, this time Twilight was prepared to fight back. Her horn erupted with light, and One summoned a shield around herself. Rather than attempt to lock herself in place, she allowed herself to be knocked back several yards before planting her hooves in the ground and then teleporting again. Twilight teleported at the same time, but her ability was slower. When she emerged from the spell, one of her legs had been nearly severed.

One was waiting for her and fired a beam directly into Twilight’s chest. Had Twilight been a living pony, the blast would have killed her. Instead, it ripped into the metal inside her. She sacrificed a substantial amount of her body to direct her magic into a powerful sideways attack that struck One in the side. A cracking sound came from within her, and she was thrown into one of the pieces of Cerberus equipment near Starlight.

Starlight was now in range, and she raised her omnitool, preparing to fire an incineration beam at One. One did not react, though. She did not produce a shield, or teleport out of the way. She just stood there, watching Starlight, as if she were waiting.

“Damn you,” said Twilight with great difficulty. “Damn you, you fucking CLONE!”

With a scream, her entire body ignited in violet light. Biotic force poured out of her in all directions in a prodigious shockwave. Starlight was not able to get out of the way fast enough, and there was no time to set her omnitool programming to do anything to protect herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, though, she saw One charge her horn. As the shockwave hit, One was struck unprotected- -but Starlight felt nothing. She was surrounded by a dome of violet energy that blocked Twilight’s uncontrolled blast completely.

When the spell dissipated, Twilight’s body had been even more damaged, this time from her own excess. Her skin had largely been removed, reveling the machine beneath. As she approached One, though, her metallic body began to heal and her skin to reform.

One was not so lucky. She had taken withstood the explosion, but without any sort of protection it had been devastating to her. Her body was still sparking with the energy as she tried to counter the reave effect, and one of her wings was hanging limply at her side. She also appeared unable to pressure on one of her front legs, meaning that she had no option for escape.

This seemed to make her only fight harder. The tip of her horn charged, and with a cry she produced several biotic singularities that flew out toward Twilight. Twilgiht managed to shield herself from most of them, although the force of them striking her shield was deafening. The second set, though, came around behind her and struck her in the rear, knocking her off balance.

One screamed and teleported forward, forming a construct blade and attempting to impale Twilight with it. Twilight constructed a bubble in defense, but One’s construct was stronger. Its tip penetrated Twilight’s shield and began to spark violently as she pushed it forward with prodigious effort.

“Starlight!” cried Twilight. “Help- -me!”

Starlight realized that she had just been watching uselessly, and for a moment her eyes met One’s. Unable to look into those eyes, she closed her eyes.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,” she began. The effect was almost immediate. One stiffened and backed away from Twilight. Her motions were jerky as she struggled against the programming.

“Starlight,” she said. “Please- -” Starlight had kept her eyes closed, but she could still hear the pleading in One’s voice.

“And sorry that I could not travel both.”

There was a thump, and Starlight opened her eyes to see that One had collapsed onto the floor. Every one of her limbs had locked. Despite this, her eyes still flitted about, indicating that she could see and was still fully conscious. Starlight immediately regretted looking into eyes and seeing just how much fear was in them. One had lied to her, and taken her magic- -but somehow Starlight could not help but feel that she had just betrayed a friend.

“Excellent,” said Twilight, her voice finally returning to normal and the remainder of the wounds on her body. She looked down at One, grinning. Then without warning she kicked One hard in the face.

“Don’t do that!” shouted Starlight, moving to stop Twilight if she tried to do it again.

“Why? You know she deserves it. For what she did to Celestia. To me. To YOU. To Equestria itself. She deserves so much more than that. But unfortunately, I don’t have time for that.”

Twilight’s magic extended from her horn, forming her own version of a biotic construct resembling a large, pointed blade. She held it out as if to show it to Starlight, and then slowly positioned it over One’s neck. “I have a lot of work to do. Rebuilding the Harmony, restoring the Parliament. Unfortunately for us- -but very fortunately for her- -she is going to get to die the same way her Princess did. Minus the hug. Not that it matters. You’re not even a real pony.”

One looked up at the blade, and then her eyes turned to Starlight one last time before she closed them and accepted her fate. Then, with a laugh, Twilight brought the blade down.

A ringing sound filled the air as Twilight’s construct struck the bright orange tech barrier that had formed between it and One’s neck.

“Starlight?” said Twilight, looking up at her friend in anger and shock.

“What if,” said Starlight. “What if she’s right?”

She looked up at Twilight, and saw the look of contempt on the alicorn’s face.

“If she’s ‘right’? Starlight, she’s a psychotic murderer- -”

“A murderer. Yes. I’ve killed people, Twilight. How many have you killed? How many planets did you rip apart with the Harmony? Ten? Twenty? Five hundred?”

“I was a Core. I did what I was told.”

“No. You weren’t like me, or the others. You had free will, conscious thought. You had a CHOICE. But you were content to do it anyway. To serve the government’s whim. To kill its enemies and to let others like you- -like ME- -rot in our cells. And now you tell me you’re going to rebuild the Harmony?”

“Of course I am! It isn’t a Princess’s place to rule over her subjects! We’re symbols, Starlight! That’s why Celestia never intervened! Because she understood that Equestria is more than capable of governing itself.”

“You mean that the nobility was more than capable of governing itself. The same nobility that oversaw the conversion of commoners into Cores when they seemed too strong.”

“And you would rather be ruled by HER? By Cerberus?”

“I’ve been at her side for three hundred years.” She looked down at One, who was looking back up at her. “And she lied to me. She claimed to be you.” She looked up at Twilight. “But she was effective, even when it was tearing her apart from the inside.”

“Effective at putting Equestria on the path to doom, maybe. Look at the state we’re in!”

“A technologically advanced society. A player on an intergalactic scale instead of a backward isolationist kingdom. The Cores are free, the breeders self-governing, the forces of Chaos defeated and the races living in harmony.”

Twilight glared at Starlight, and then stepped over One’s paralyzed body. “You have no idea what you’re saying. How could you? You weren’t the one who she killed, whose life she stole. I am an ALICORN!” Twilight pointed at herself. “I was born for so much more than to have what should be mine taken from me! I am the logical conclusion to pony evolution! I am TWLIGHT SPARKLE!”

“No,” said Starlight. “She may have taken that name from you, but she has had it longer and used it better.” She returned Twilight’s glare. “You aren’t my friend. You never were. But SHE WAS.”

“It was all a trick! A lie!”

“Was it?” Starlight’s mind was racing, and she was aware of the memories of her artificially long life. Their time together had been long, and although One had been cold and aloof at the start she had shown nothing but sincerity and devotion as time went on. Starlight knew in her heart that it could not all have been an act, and felt like a fool for ever have believed that it could have been. Every time she had been afraid or angry or otherwise in need, One had been there for her regardless of what she had to set aside to make time. The same was true for Starlight: when the pony that she now knew as One would begin to buckle under the life that she had been forced to live, or perhaps even the strain of the awareness of her dishonesty, Starlight would always be there in turn. The pair of them had laughed and cried together so many times that it was impossible that all of it could have been a lie.

“You should have stayed dead, Twilight. Or ruled in Hell as Thebe. I don’t care if you take the throne, or what you do, so long as you leave my friend ALONE.”

“You little bitch. Do you realize that this is blasphemy?”

“Then call me a heretic.” Starlight took a deep breath. “I kept the first for another day,” she said, reciting the words that Bob had no doubt understood she might eventually want to use. “Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.”

One gasped and twitched, jerkily rising to her feet. Twilight’s eyes widened in shock when she realized what Starlight had done.

“NO!” she shrieked. “You can’t!”

She immediately turned her horn toward One, preparing to strike her while she had still not fully regained her ability to walk. Starlight considered that Twilight’s response, and fired an incineration beam into the side of Twilight’s face.

The beam exploded on contact with her, but Twilight did not fall. Instead, she slowly turned back to Twilight, glaring at her with one violet eye and one empty, metallic socket.

“I don’t want to fight you, Twilight,” said Starlight, raising her omnitool. “But I will protect One, and the Equestria that we created together. Just leave. Because if I have to kill you, I will.”

“Kill me? Really?”

Starlight’s omnitool suddenly flickered and went out. Twilight sighed as her face began to regenerate. “That’s the thing. Who do you think gave you that omnitool? That would be ME. Not that you would have been able to do much to me with it anyway.”

Twilight took a step forward, and Starlight began to walk backward as Twilight approached her.

“You see, she already did my job for me. You don’t have any magic, or tech. Not even wings. You’re no better than an earth-pony. And I’m a god. And with Celestia and Luna gone? I am the ONLY god. I will be able to succeed where Sunset Shimmer failed!” She paused, and then smiled. “And I’m afraid I can’t have any heretics in my New Equestria, can I?”

Twilight was suddenly struck by a biotic bolt from behind. She turned to see One, who although barely able to stand had charged her horn and was prepared to defend Starlight.

“Starlight!” she cried. “Just run! Get out of here!”

“I’m not going to run,” said Starlight. She reached into her pocket. “And I’m not going to be powerless.”

With one swift motion, she shattered the glass tube on the floor. The Reaper artifact inside immediately reacted to air, squirming in the oxygen and blindly searching for a living creature to cling to.

Twilight slowly turned away from One, confused as to what Starlight had just done. Before she could react, though, Starlight scooped up the shard and placed it in the center of her hoof. Then, with a scream, she stabbed it through her right eye. Her eye burst open and the thin bones of her skull behind it crunched as she rammed the Reaper artifact directly into her brain.

Immediately, it took hold of her, growing and spreading through her brain and body. Starlight continued to scream, both at the pain of the parasite growing within her and at the feeling of it reconfiguring her body. She felt it quickly move through her brain and spine, linking itself to the long-dormant implants that lay there. As she doubled over in agony, she felt it pierce through the scar tissue of her back, building new implants where hers had long ago been taken from her.

Then a strange sense of calmness as it reached toward the base of her horn, extending its own tendrils into the Cerberus implant that One had placed within her. Within seconds, it overwhelmed it, and Starlight screeched as entire body ignited with biotic power.

She dropped to the floor, her body ablaze with blue energy.

“I’m still an alicorn,” said Twilight. “There is no way you could- -”

Starlight teleported to Twilight’s side and sliced into her with her magic. Twilight immediately pulled away, but that only helped Starlight draw out the piece of her that her magic had wrapped around. She twisted in the air, kicking Twilight away and pulling the piece of metal free of her body.

Twilight gaped, realizing that Starlight had just pulled a substantial and irreplaceable Reaper portion of her body away. Starlight grinned as she crushed it in her magic, and then atomized it in front of Twilight.

“I saw how you were made,” she said. “And I think I can figure out how to unmake you, too.”

Twilight roared in anger and leapt at Starlight. Starlight was faster, though. She copied One’s alternate method for teleporting and slid beside Twilight, striking at her internal sensors. Twilight shielded at least one of them, but was blinded in the others. Unable to target completely, she turned and unleashed several simultaneous beams.

Starlight jumped back, interposing herself between One and Twilight and projecting a crystal-like shield around her entire body. The beams ricocheted off of it, although they were strong enough to crack the shield’s surface. Even though Starlight had managed to restore her magic, Twilight was still an alicorn and still deadly.

“Your name is Un?” said Starlight, dropping her shield and landing next to One.

“It’s not a name, but yes, I am,” said One, who was highly confused but also tearing from having heard Starlight’s speech. “And you don’t have to- -”

“Shut your mouth and FIGHT,” ordered Starlight. “Because I can’t beat her alone. We have to do it together!”

One smiled, and replied with her native accent. “I will do what I can, my friend.”

They both struck simultaneously. With her targeting system damaged, Twilight was unable to strike both. She instead focused her attention on One, who she hated more. One was able to shield herself, and while Twilight’s head was turned, Starlight cut through her abdomen and tore out another critical piece of her body. Twilight screamed and dropped to a knee on one of her legs.

“Starlight, stop!” she cried. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“I think I know exactly what I’m doing,” said Starlight, scanning Twilight’s body for more Reaper components while One nearly severed her neck with a biotic construct.

“No you DON’T!”

Twilight unleashed another shockwave. This time, Starlight was able to protoject her own shield. This blast was more powerful than the other one, though, and different. Starlight winced as the Reaper implant within her suddenly burned, and her magic faltered on contact with Twilight’s.

“Starlight!” cried One, teleporting to her side and catching her as she fell to the ground. The impact of the tail end of the explosion further injured One, and she did not get back up. Starlight, though, stood, finding herself standing on the platform where Celestia had spent tens of thousands of years trapped as a Core.

“You don’t understand, do you?” said Twilight, approaching slowly, her body already regenerating. “All I wanted was to have you as a friend. You could have been a general, or a commander of an army. Even a real Priestess. Why are you fighting me, Starlight? It wasn’t supposed to be like this!”

“You still have a chance to give up, Twilight. We still might be able to be friends, some day…” Starlight suddenly cried out and nearly dropped to her knees.

“Unfortunately, no,” said Twilight. “That power? The only way you got it was to destroy the implant that SHE put in your head. Which was a very, very stupid thing to do. Because she’s right. Containing your magic was the only thing keeping you alive. Can’t you feel it? It’s burning you from inside. You probably have less than five minutes before you live three centuries, all at once.”

“That’s enough time for me to stop you,” said Starlight, even as her head was aching and her vision starting to swim.

“You can’t stop me, Starlight. You have, what, one Reaper implant? I’m MADE of Reaper technology. Your unicorn body will disintegrate. You’re not immortal like me, Starlight. You’re just a Core.”

“A Core?” said Starlight, smiling. “Yes, Twilight. That’s exactly what I am.”

Starlight jumped suddenly, pushing off from the floor with her biotic power. Instead of rushing toward Twilight, though, she rushed backward- -toward the machine that still held Celestia’s spine.

When Starlight touched it, the machine responded, reacting to the presence of a new Core. The cables that still held onto Celestia’s long-dead bones released them, and the tendrils of metal sought out a new host to penetrate. They quickly found the ports that the Reaper implants had constructed, and Starlight felt them penetrate her body.

“NO!” screamed Twilight, striking out with full strength.

The beam never reached Starlight. She deflected it easily with the solar energy that poured through her body. Her entire form ignited as she linked to the artificial star, and her armor was burned away.

Far on the ground below, Scootaloo looked up to the sky. The battle around her had almost entirely stopped as everyone present looked up to see the sun glowing bright white and hotter than any living pony apart from Scootaloo had ever seen.

The effect on Starlight was profound. She remaind consciousness, although she doubted that if she had been any less of a Core she probably would have- -or been vaporized completely. Even in her present state, there was a very real possibility that the latter could occur.

Space seemed to shift around her. She saw Twilight and One standing before her, with the former desperately attempting to pull her free. Twilight’s efforts were meaningless, though. She was so small that her efforts barely even registered to Starlight.

At the same time, Starlight saw memories that were rapidly becoming hers. She saw herself standing on the platform where she had spent her entire life. In front of her, she saw her favorite student approach. Starlight felt so glad to see her; she had been alone for so long. She reached out her frail, shaking hooves, and Twilight smiled. That smile brought so much joy to Starlight’s heart, and she felt her hooves close around her.

Then she felt the knife, as she knew she would. One had not lied. There was no pain. Only a sense of tremendous relief to know she had finally succeeded.

The memory shifted. Once again, Starlight saw her student, now brought before her by a pair of guards. She was just a filly, a terrified young unicorn. She seemed so innocent and pure, and yet Starlight still hesitated. After her previous failures, she was not sure if this would be the one who was finally be her greatest success.

Another memory. This time a different pony stood before Starlight. Her body was bright yellow and her hair flaming orange and red. Her body had been corrupted and broken, coated with extensive implants that were still bleeding through the bandages that covered so much of her body.

This memory had not been a good one. There had been yelling and accusations of hypocrisy, and in the end Starlight’s beloved student stormed away, never to be seen again. Starlight wept for a long time after that.

The next memory came harder. It was far older, and dimmer because of its age. Still, this memory remained pure and unforgotten in Starlight’s mind. Standing before her this time was a stallion, appearing young but with eyes that were so very old. He wore a long beard and a hat with bells, and he lowered his cape to reveal the implants that he had put inside himself in Starlight’s image. Seeing them made Starlight sad, but also so very grateful that there was another like her. He had been the first to find her, the first of her own kind that she had ever seen. He was the only pony that she had ever known, and yet she loved him dearly.

As he stepped up into the platform and gently kissed her, Starlight felt herself slipping free of the memory. This time, she was no longer linked to the machine. She was just a tiny filly, new and frightened. All around her was nothing but endless blackness.

Then the blackness suddenly retreated under the glow of a blinding blue glow. Though the glow was profoundly horrid, it was also impossibly beautiful. Starlight looked up to its source to see a pair of towering machines, their bodies writhing and reconfiguring as they constantly destroyed and rebuilt themselves into new and better images of their ideas, even as those ideas were dying.

The blue light came from within them, and they reached out. Starlight stood, and she reached out back to them until one thin, mechanical tendril tapped the tip of her tiny filly hoof.

That was when Starlight opened her eyes. Not just the ones in her face, but the eyes of a god. The entirety of everything became apparent to her. She could see everything: every planet and every galaxy, and every grain of sand on any distant shore if she chose. She saw the Council as they debated in the face of sure destruction, and she saw Babylon, sitting about the bridge of her starship with a white Pegasus and a brave asari, waiting. She saw into the Crystal Galaxy, where Flurry Heart was helping her aged husband stand up from his reading chair to come to dinner. Sunburst shivered for a moment, as though he knew that he was being watched, and Flurry Heart looked concerned.

In the distance, Starlight saw those who looked back. She saw the Benefactor, and saw that although he was able to return her stare he did not understand what he was seeing. There was nothing left, save for his final doomed fate to kill all of those he had once elected to save.

Then there was HER. A minor element in the galaxy, barely worth Starlight’s view, and yet somehow she stared back. Her body was infected and badly so, not just with disease but the will of a race who had eliminated themselves to ensure their eternal survival. Starlight saw her blue eyes, and her smile.

“What have you done?” cried Twilight.

Starlight’s attention suddenly turned to Twilight, who had once been her most prized student.

“I have done nothing,” said Starlight, “but I have instead become the capacity to do. I am what you wished for, the god you craved. Did not you wish for a terminal point to your evolution? I have become that. I was the first pony, and with this power I can be the last pony. Your creation, your end. I am both.”

“Then…then are you Starlight, or are you Celestia?”

Starlight paused, considering for a moment. “I don’t think there ever was a Celestia,” she said at last. “Not in any of our lifetimes, at least.” Starlight raised a hoof, and Twilight was suddenly pulled toward her.

“What- -what are you doing?!” she cried.

“I am completing my promise. I gave you the option to turn away, to rule a different kingdom. To live a life of happiness and peace. But just like Sunset Shimmer before you, you chose to throw it away.”

“NO! I didn’t, I- -”

“I thought at one time that you were my greatest success, Twilight,” sighed Starlight. “But now I know. You were a failure. A failure like all the rest.”

Twilight tried to protest, but Starlight wrapped her in her magic. Twilight screamed, trying to resist with every ounce of magic she had. To Starlight, though, it was like crushing a soft, eroded pebble beneath her hoof. It should not have been that easy. Twilight had died once, and what had come back though complete was made lesser by the experience.

With a burst of force, Starlight tore apart Twilight’s body, vaporizing every component and rending the Paradigm within, destroying every aspect of it and cutting through every line of thought. Everything that was Twilight Sparkle was obliterated: her body, mind, and immortal soul.

Nothing was left of her, save for the Key of Korviliath. It fell to the floor and shattered where it landed.

With Twilight once again dead and never to return, Starlight turned her attention to One. One looked up at her, and although she was crying, she smiled.

“Starlight,” she said. “You look so beautiful.”

“The power,” said Starlight. “The amount I can see…the amount I can do! I could remake Equestria in my own image. Or everything. I could rule this galaxy for all eternity.” She paused. “But…but would it really matter? Something so trivial…a world so short lived…everything I create would turn to dust instantly.” Her heart fell at the thought. “It would be worthless to try. So much easier just to watch…”

“If that is what you want to do,” said One. “But please, Starlight. I must ask you one favor, if you will permit it.”

“What is it? What would you ask a goddess?”

“Please,” said One. “Kill me. Like you did her. That is what I came here for.” She looked up at Starlight. “I came here expecting you to kill me, so that you would have closure. But to hear what you said…it made me so happy. I thought I would die in the torment of having disappointed my only friend, but now I can die in peace.”

Starlight was confused. “But why would you want to die at all, then?”

One smiled. “Because I am no longer needed. I was built to rule. It is my only purpose, the only reason why I was created. But I don’t need to anymore. Equestria has a new ruler. And I know you will be greater than I ever was.”

“You can do more than what you were designed for.”

“Can I?” One looked at the place where Twilight had been standing and where her shadow had now been burned into the ground. “She was right. I’m not a real pony. Just a copy. Just a machine.”

“But you could still rule.”

“But I couldn’t bear to.” One shook her head. “Not alone. To live a life like that. Without you. I can’t face it, Starlight. I just can’t. But you’re a god now. The new Celestia.”

“All this power…and still trapped,” said Starlight, realizing her fate. “A Core, like all other Cores. Nothing more than a slave.”

“Don’t say it like that,” said One. “You may be a Core, but you can move beyond that.”

“I can,” said Starlight, realizing what she had to do. She lifted her hooves and braced them on the side of the machines that surrounded her, and then began pushing herself forward.

“Starlight, no!” cried One, realizing what she was doing. “If you separate yourself from the machine, you’ll die!”

“Then I will die- -if that means- -I don’t have to be ALONE!”

Starlight cried out and tore the upper part of her spine free. The machinery did not want to let her go, and she felt it calling her back. Every connection she severed felt like she was severing part of herself, and with every cable that broke free she could feel her power diminishing.

Then, with a ripping sound, she fell free, landing on top of One.

“Starlight!” cried One, holding onto her tightly. “No, Starlight, please, not like this!”

“I won’t be a slave,” said Starlight. “Not alone, linked to some machine with no friends. I won’t be like she was. I won’t kill you, One. Even if that means I have to die.”

One closed her eyes and hugged Starlight closely, only to suddenly cry out and release her. Confused, Starlight looked at her friend. One’s eyes were wide and staring at Starlight. Not her face, though. She was staring at Starlight’s back.

Suddenly, One burst out into laughter. Starlight did not understand why, and One’s reaction made her afraid. Then One pointed.

“Starlight! Starlight! Look!”

Starlight did, slowly turning her head to look at her back. Apart from having a new set of smooth, low-profile Core ports, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. At least until the two tiny appendages sticking out from between her implants buzzed involuntarily.

“W…what?” said Starlight, stopping one of the feathered appendages with her magic. Her eyes widened when she realized what they were, and she burst out laughing with One. “I have Scootaloo wings!”

That made the pair laugh even harder, and they embraced each other. Neither had to die, and both were free to live in the Equestria that they had created together.