This.... this can’t be happening! It can’t be! “You’re dead!” I shout. “You hear me?! YOU’RE DEAD!”

Hate is a strong word, but it doesn’t come off as strong enough to describe my roiling emotion toward Magnus as he stands upon the dragon’s head. “And yet, here I am,” he says.

The dragon’s claw and arm move through the same motions as Magnus’ foreleg as the massive hand takes hold of my amber prison.

Gears and motors grind together as I struggle to break free.

Mangus sighs. “How long has it been since we last saw each other, Silverspeak? Fifty years? Time changes us all. Even me.”

“You haven’t changed!” I snap. “You’ll never change! You-”

“I have, Silverspeak, but you still act like a child: rash, impatient, and jumping to conclusions. Your hatred burns hotter than Celestia’s sun. That was the last thing I saw before you tore the eyes from my head.” A shiver runs up his spine at the memory. “You have no idea how painful that was. How horrifying it is to have your vision taken from you forever, to feel hot blood pouring down your snout as darkness takes you forevermore.”

“You deserved it!” I growl. I shouldn’t taunt my enemy, not when he can kill or maim me, but I can’t help myself.

“Yes,” Mangus admits. “I did.”

I blink, taken aback by his wilful admittance.

“You tried to kill me, Silverspeak, and you almost succeeded,” Mangus says. “I fell down that chasm for what felt like days. Then I hit water, and was carried deep into the earth by an underground river, battered against boulders and thrown around like a child’s toy in a washing machine for what seemed like an eternity before I was finally thrown onto a sandbank, broken in body and mind, forgotten and left to die by an uncaring world. And I wanted to die, Silverspeak. Oblivion would have been a relief. And I would have fallen into it, had he not found me.”

Reaching into the bloody flesh beneath his hooves, Mangus retrieves a steel scepter, the top adorned with a red jewel encased within a sharp, spear-like tip. He uses it to tap the scales beneath his hooves.

“Black Fang could have killed me. Instead, he nursed me back to health. I wondered if he was just fattening me up so he could devour me at his leisure. Imagine my shock when he offered to teach me about his kind. Imagine how surprised I was when he offered me the chance to become one of his servants, to become strong and powerful, to help his kind rise again.

“I had been given a way back. A chance to be reborn. So I took it. I pledged myself to him.” A devilish smile dances across Mangus’ face. “I was pretending, of course. All I wanted was a chance to someday pay you back for what you did to me. I wanted magic that would peel you apart piece by piece.” Mangus shudders from pleasure. “Oh, the things I learned, Silverspeak. Spells and magic beyond anything we’re taught in school. Power of which ponies have only dreamed. But Black Fang give me something far greater than arcane magic or tools for revenge: He gave me purpose.”

Mangus’ foreleg gestures forward, and the dragon’s arm brings me closer to him.

“The arch-dragons, Silverspeak, believed in balance. Growth and destruction, to be exact. They believed that both are forever entwined, breaking up that which is old and weak and past its prime, ripping it out by the roots so that growth can bring in something more glorious than before, a cycle that will continue until the end of time.”

He smiles, pleased with himself.

“Black Fang helped me realize the truth about myself: Ever since I was a foal, I’ve wanted power. But I was selfish; I only wanted that power for myself, to glorify me. Black Fang showed me how I was a thug and bully. When I died, all my monuments to myself would be torn down, and I would be cast aside into the trash heap of history as another bully came along and took my place. I admit, that was difficult to accept, but he was right. And then my mentor showed me joys of serving a cause greater than myself.”

“And what cause is that?!” I snarl.

“Destruction, of course. The arch-dragons divided themselves into two camps: those who embraced destruction, and those who embraced creation. I joined the former. No longer want to be the greatest unicorn who ever lived, Silverspeak. I want to help destroy all that is weak and false. I want to bring about a new and better age, one where the weak and the pitiful and the useless are no longer coddled and nurtured, but where strength and might are rewarded, just as it should be.”

Sweet Celestia... after fifty years, Mangus hasn’t changed. He’s still a bully. A bully – Celestia help me – who’s found religion.

“Of course, it wouldn’t happen overnight,” Mangus admits. “Black Fang taught me patience. For decades I stayed with him, learning, growing, until at last he cast a spell to make me look like any other pony, and I was sent to the surface. It was there that I found Iron Hoof, a pony who saw weakness wherever he went.” Mangus chuckles, amused at the thought. “He was so easy to seduce. And once he was in Black Fang’s employ, I knew joy greater than ever before: I knew that my new age was close at hand.”

Mangus’ smile turns into the foul grin from my childhood.

“But Black Fang, for all his talk of growth and change, wanted to bring back the glory days of the arch-dragons, to have dominion over all life on this earth. But I saw that he and his kind were creatures of an era long-gone, beings who had no place in today’s world. Despite all his knowledge and all his wisdom, my mentor had strayed from his path. He was serving himself.

“Thus, one night, when my mentor was asleep, I thanked him for all that he taught me... and then used those skills to end his life.”

Mangus shudders once more, the thought bringing him untold pleasure.

“I took his body for my own, to compensate for my physical shortcomings. I pretended to be him, and provoked Iron Hoof into attacking his beloved Equestria. I sent all the arch-dragons against Celestia so she could wipe them out. And when she was weakened, I took her, then the Bearers, and everyone who could stop me. And now the time is at hand when destruction will finally bring this age of weakness to an end.”

His eyeless sockets focus on me. “And that, Silverspeak, is where you come in.”

Even though it’s futile, I keep struggling. I won’t sit here passively while this maniac blabbers on about destiny and fate.

“We are opposites, you and I. You create, and I destroy. What you build up, I tear asunder.” Mangus chuckles as he studies my amber-encrusted horn, tapping it with the tip of his scepter. “Oh, how I wasted so many hours of my youth on this. Wishing it were mine, not realizing that it was nothing in the grand scheme of things. But it all worked out in the end. And now you will help me once again.”

“I will never-”

“‘Help you.’ Yes, I knew you’d say that. Even if I were on my deathbed and asking you to help me to find forgiveness, you’d refuse, wouldn’t you?” Mangus’ smile darkens. “I admit, sometimes I wished you had never been born. That your parents had failed to conceive you, thinking that the world would have been better off.”

My skin burns hotter than fire. “How dare-”

“But you were necessary, Silverspeak. You serve growth. I serve destruction. And as much as I hate to admit it, there must always be a balance between the two. And had you never been born, it would have been so much harder to sway so many to Iron Hoof’s cause. The yin to my yang, so to speak.”

Mangus steps towards me, bloody veins and organic tubes stretching from Black Fang’s exposed brain. “I knew your talent could be put to good use, so I instructed Iron Hoof to take you all those years ago, and to make you his voice, a role you have fulfilled with flying colors. And now comes the next part of your service.”

Oh, that does it! I focus all my charm and unleash it on Mangus like bullets from a gun. “You will release me Mangus, and end this nonsense! You-”

I’m interrupted by a laugh.

“I figured you’d use your charm eventually,” Mangus says. He spreads his legs wide. “But as you can see, it has no effect on someone who has devoted their life for a higher cause.”

Buck!

Black Fang’s body follows Mangus as he turns, arms rising to indicate the chamber. “Look around you, Silverspeak. Iron Hoof treasures these ponies so dearly. This is their ark to carry them into the new age... an age that you may be part of.”

“I’ll never-”

“They’ll be upset at losing the world they knew. But if you were to persuade them that it’s in their best interest to join me, much suffering and misery will be averted.”

“Or I’ll convince them all to rise against you.”

“Not if you’re under my spell.” Mangus raises his staff, making sure I can see it. “Either you help me willingly, Silverspeak, or I enslave your mind and force you to help me. The last thing you will ever see before your mind is wiped away is me, laughing at my ultimate victory.”

“I’ll die before I serve you.” And I mean it, too. But my threat only amuses Mangus.

“And how will you kill yourself? Holding your breath until you asphyxiate? Twisting your neck until it breaks?”

I struggle again with all my might against the amber.

Mangus watches me for a minute before he speaks again. “You know, Silverspeak, despite all the bad blood between us, I am willing to forgive and forget. There is no point in holding onto old hatreds and grudges. Imagine it: The two of us working together to create a new dawn for all ponykind, a world-”

“Where you rule as a cruel and merciless god.”

A sigh. “Oh, there you go again. Yes, I will rule. After all, I serve powers greater than even the princesses. They are relics of the past to be washed away with the rest of the filth.”

“They’ll stop you!” I snap. “When we free them, they’ll-”

“And how will you do that, Silverspeak? Your beloved Celestia is beyond the reach of her loyal subjects. She can’t break free, though she’s tried.”

For just a moment, Mangus’ grin fades.

“I confess, she has been... difficult to contain. Even after being encased in ten feet of amber, she refused to stop fighting. I eventually had to put her into a sleep so deep that she lies on the borders between life and death. But no matter. Celestia, Cadence, Twilight Sparkle and her friends... their magic will bring about the end of everything they hold dear. They’ll be missed once they’re discarded; I imagine their subjects will want revenge, but how much suffering they will endure depends on you, Silverspeak. Will you join me and help lead pony kind into a new age? Or will you refuse and become my puppet?

“Before you answer, I ask you to consider your words carefully. Normally I’d give you a few days to think things over, but seeing as the old world has only a few hours left to live, you’ll have to make your choice quite soon. Right now, in fact.”

“Even if you enslave me,” I growl, “you’ll still fail.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

If this were a game of cards, my trump card would beat any hand he could ever hope to throw at me. “Because I’m dying.”

Mangus stops, his grin vanishing.

“It’s cancer, and it will kill me in a few months,” I snarl. “That’s nowhere near enough time to build your empire. All this time and effort, fifty years of planning, and it will be for nothing!” I’m shaking, my body going cold with the chill of hatred. “I’ve known you all my life and you’re still the same pathetic, lonely creature you always were! You are as worthless as your plan without me! You are nothing without me!”

For a long moment Mangus is silent, lost in thought, trying to figure out what to do. He clearly hadn’t expected this, and it’s thrown him for a loop.

He’s unphased.

“Well, that’s... disappointing.”

His grin returns.

“But I can still do much in only a few months. And don’t forget, we have the technology to control bodies. A chip in the brian, and I can enslave an entire population to do as I please. I say smile, and they smile. I tell them to instruct their young to worship me, and they’ll do it. They’ll be screaming on the inside, but no matter.”

He leans in close, his lips next to my ear. “Either way, Silverspeak, you lose... and I win.”

“And what if I decide to turn everyone against you? To wait until the last second before inspiring them to rise up?!”

“A fair point... but I have my ways of ensuring your compliance.” His smile grows. “Tell me, Silverspeak... how is your wife doing?”

No. Oh no... Oh no, no, no! He can’t!

Keeping a tight grip on my amber prison, Mangus directs Black Fang’s body towards the pillar in the center of the chamber. Reaching it, Mangus stands tall and pulls something from one of the larger holes, and holds it up for me to see.

Lying upon that giant, black palm of aged scales is an amber prison identical to the ones encasing Chrysalis and Thorax.

“She arrived here not even a day ago,” Mangus says. “I knew you’d come for her, Silverspeak. You’re bound to her like a magnet to metal.”

My heart’s hammering out of control. “You’re... you’re lying! That’s not her!”

Putting my prison on the edge of the hole in the pillar, Mangus uses the dragon’s claws to scrape at the amber, flaking layer after layer away until the surface is close to the form inside and holds it up so I can see it.

Just below the surface of the amber is a white form with black streaks.

It’s her... oh Celestia help me, it’s Beakbreaker! Joy and terror overwhelm me: my wife lies before me, but in the grip of a psychopath bent on becoming a god, and willing to do anything to make it happen.

“If there’s one thing I remember about you, Silverspeak, it’s your devotion to Beakbreaker. You were willing to give your life to save her.”

He grips the amber in both hands.

“I imagine you’d do anything to protect her now, wouldn’t you?

His claws tighten.

“Stop!” I shriek.

Mangus relaxes his grip. “I won’t harm her, Silverspeak. I won’t lay a claw on her, so long as you do what I say. Follow my orders, do as you’re told, and no harm will come to her. But should you try to stop me, if you try to rally ponies to rise up against me, then I will break her. I’ll snap her limbs off until only her head remains. And then I’ll regenerate what she’s lost, and do it again. And she’ll be aware of it all: awake, but unable to scream.”

“You can’t!” I shout. “No magic can do that!”

Mangus grins. “Are you sure about that, Silverspeak?”

I try with all my might not to show the terror trying to overwhelm me.

Mangus casually rolls the amber between his claws, the way someone might idly play with a pen when they’re bored at school. “While all has gone according to plan, Silverspeak, there is the matter of the Resistance. While they can’t stop me, their leader, Luna, could still cause so much trouble. I need her magic, but I have one problem: I don’t know where she is... but I think you do.”

“I don’t-”

“You will tell me where Luna and her minions are, Silverspeak, or you get to watch Beakbreaker’s legs be snapped off one by one.”

“No!”

“It won’t happen if you tell me what I want to know.”

Celestia help me, I can’t! I can’t tell him! If the Resistance dies, then any chance of stopping Mangus dies as well! Beakbreaker... she wouldn’t want me to sacrifice the only chance the world has of stopping this maniac for her sake.

“Well? Are you going to tell me or not?”

“I don’t know where they are!”

Claws tighten around the amber.

It cracks.

“Stop!” I scream. “Please, stop!”

“Then tell me where the Resistance hides!” Mangus roars. “Tell me where Luna has hidden herself like a rat in its burrow!”

“I... I...”

He squeezes again, and the cracks grow larger. Another second, and Beakbreaker’s leg will be snapped off!

“This is your last chance, Silverspeak: Who’s it going to be? The Resistance, or your wife?”

I... I don’t know what to do! I can’t reveal the Resistance! Luna’s the only chance we have now, and if Mangus gets her, then all is lost! But I can’t let Beakbreaker die! She’s the reason I’ve come this far. If she dies, then everything I’ve fought and struggled for will be for nothing!

“Well... I guess you don’t love her, after all,” Mangus says.

The dragon’s enormous muscles flex, readying for one final, decisive twist.

NO!

“THE MOON!” I scream.

Mangus pauses, glaring at me.

“LUNA AND THE OTHERS!” I scream. “THEY’RE HIDING IN THE MOON!”

Mangus rubs his chin lost in thought. Does he believe me?! Oh Celestia, please let him believe me! Let him believe me!

“The Moon... of course.”

Turning, Mangus has Black Fang open his mouth and spray a new stream of amber upon Beakbreaker, covering up the cracks and fractures before putting her back inside the alcove, and me beside her, spraying another glob of goo to bond me to the floor.

Black Fang’s finger reaches inside the alcove, where it affectionately strokes my head.

“Thank you, Silverspeak.”

Grinning, Mangus sprays more amber across the alcove, wiping and smearing it until it forms a new wall, hardening with an audible crack.

I can barely see Mangus as he lumbers away, his laugh filling the chasm.

I have no time to think about what happened or what I’ve done. If Beakbreaker’s still here when Mangus returns, then Mangus will force me to do whatever he wants, and I’ll be powerless to resist him. If I can free Beakbreaker and get her to safety, then Mangus will have no power over me. But curse it all, this amber refuses to give way, no matter how hard I struggle! But I’m not going to let it win!

There are two spare gems inside my body that can act as a backup power supply in case the crystals keeping me alive ever fail. I’ve never had to use them, nor have I ever tapped into them for emergency power, but I do so now. That power surges through me, providing more strength than even my artificial adrenaline, and I focus the spare energy into the servos and pistons in my legs, trying to make them oscillate at a high frequency to crack the amber.

It doesn’t work.

I yell and try again and again. If I can get just a wiggle, I can-

My right hoof fidgets ever so slightly.

I struggle. I kick. I lash Where flesh and muscle fail, steel and engines succeed, each struggle gaining me another centimeter to work with, and more room to struggle and kick. It’s exhausting, tiring work, but I’m not going to stop!

I can finally thrash my leg around the cavity in the amber, and I hit it again and again like a jackhammer.

Crack!

That sound gives me the boost of motivation I so desperately need. I trash and punch, and cracks spread across the amber’s surface like a rock that hit a window. A foreleg finally bursts free from the red amber cocoon, cracks across the rest of the amber, weakening it enough so I can smash the rest of it to pieces, where I finally manage to tear myself free from the hot, sweaty confines of the amber.

My eyes whip up to my wife. “Beakbreaker!”

I rush to the jagged form holding Beakbreaker and shove it against the wall. Running to the other side of the alcove, I sprint, jump, and kick the amber with all my might.

A crack appears.

I repeat the process again and again, each hit making the crack a little bigger. When it’s finally spread across the amber, I start punching, pistons and engines turning my hooves into hydraulic hammers. My emergency power reserves are almost dry, but I don’t care! I’ll break this amber even if I have to use up every last drop of energy I have!

Rearing back, I throw everything I have into one final, decisive hit.

The amber shatters, shards flying like shrapnel.

“Beakbreaker!”

Throwing the larger chunks aside, I fight to get into the amber’s heart, to find-

I stop.

Celestia... there she is.

Beakbreaker lies upon what remains of the amber, almost looking like a sleeping maiden from a foal’s fairy tale, waiting for her true love to awaken her. But she’s not the young, innocent mare waiting for her young, equally handsome prince. Her skin is sagging and covered with wrinkles, her once vibrant, black hair now a dull, faded grey. But worst of all are the worry lines over her eyes and on her cheeks, etched deeply from a million frowns and a million furrowed eyelids.

This isn’t the aging that comes with time, the loss of elasticity in skin brought on by wear and tear. This is aging brought on by worry and fear, ripping away beauty and youth, aging my wife before her time.

I don’t care.

Reaching in, I lift Beakbreaker out as gently as I can and lower her onto the uneven floor. Leaning over, I place my ear beside her mouth. Oh, thank Celestia, she’s breathing! Slowly, far too slowly, but she’s breathing.

“Beakbreaker? Beakbreaker, can you hear me?”

She doesn’t stir.

Is this a spell of some kind? Some foul enchantment that keeps her deep in unnatural sleep?

I shake Beakbreaker’s cheeks, trying to rouse her. “Beakbreaker! Beakbreaker, wake up!”

Nothing happens.

“Please! Please, Beakbreaker, wake up!” She has to wake up! She has to! I haven’t come this far only to-

Beakbreaker’s eyes move. Then she coughs, her face tightening as she winces, as if trying to rouse herself from a sleep that’s lasted centuries.

Yes! Yes, that’s it! Come on, Beakbreaker! That’s it! Wake up!

Hacking, Beakbreaker struggles to sit up. I help her, bracing her as she finally opens her eyes, looking around in a disoriented haze, lost and scared, unsure of where she is or what’s happening.

“Beakbreaker?”

Startled, Beakbreaker spins at hearing my voice, instinctively trying to get away from an unknown threat.

Then her eyes meet mine.

She freezes.

For a moment that lasts a lifetime, the two of us look at each other.

Neither of us speaks, moves, or dares to breathe.

Beakbreaker studies my face.

I don’t dare move.

Beakbreaker doesn’t act. She’s dumbstruck, unable to think, act, or move. This is too much for her to take in. Should I have gone slower? Woken her up more gently? Or maybe she’s horrified at seeing me so old, her once vibrant and handsome stallion now bearing the wrinkles and sags of-

She reaches out with a shaking hoof. “S... Silverspeak? Is... is it really you?”

I can’t help myself: I smile.

I’m knocked to the ground as Beakbreaker tackles me. “Silverspeak!” Her legs go around me, squeezing as hard as they can as Beakbreaker buries her face against my chest. “It’s you! It’s you, it’s you, it’s you!”

I laugh. I don’t mean to; it just comes out. “Yes! It’s me!”

“I knew you’d come back! I knew you would, I knew it!”

I manage to stand. “Of course I would,” I tell her. “I promised.” All those years ago... the cabin. Sitting on the porch, promising my wife that I would do everything in my power to keep her safe. Does Beakbreaker even remember that? If she does, she doesn’t care as she buries her face in my chest, clutching me tightly, never wanting to let go.

I hold her tight against me.

I, too, never want to let go.

My wife, lost for so long, has finally been found.

I don’t know how long we hold each other, and I don’t care. I’ve dreamed of this moment, longed for it for so long, that I never want it to end. But no matter how joyous our reunion, no matter how long we want it to last, we can’t stay here, not if Mangus is going to come back.

I gently ease my grip on Beakbreaker and look at her, wiping some tears from my eyes. “You look...”

“Old?”

“No, not at all,” I say.

Beakbreaker’s smile straddles the line between sadness and amusement. “Liar.”

“You’re like wine,” I reassure her. “The older you get, the better you are.”

She chuckles. “Thanks for trying.”

I try to crack a joke, but something weighs heavy on my mind. “Beakbreaker... Luna and the others told me what happened. About what I did. I’m... I’m sor-”

She puts her hoof to my lips. “It wasn’t your fault. That wasn’t you talking. It was Iron Hoof.”

I bite my lip. “Yes... him and Mangus.”

“What?”

“He’s alive, Beakbreaker,” I say, wishing it wasn’t so. “He survived that fall in the Alicorn Sanctuary. He’s behind Iron Hoof, behind this war, behind everything.”

My wife’s silent.

“I know it sounds impossible, but I swear to you, it’s-”

“You’re sure?” Beakbreaker asks.

I nod, doing nothing as Beakbreaker breathes deeply. I would do the same if I were in her place, learning that the only pony who’s ever tried to kill me was alive and responsible for the war that’s consumed my life for the last twenty five years, killing and enslaving so many, and who took my only loved one away and enslaving his mind.

Breathing deeply, Beakbreaker calms her simmering rage. “Well, then,” she says quite calmly. “We should get out of here and inform Princess Luna, don’t you think?”

“My thoughts exactly,”

The two of us rise and hurry to the newly formed amber wall, running our hooves over the slick surface, tapping away in search of a weak spot. It won’t be easy: this wall has to be at least three feet thick.

“Silverspeak, over here,” Beakbreaker says, tapping a section of the wall that’s lighter in color than the others. “I think we can break through.” She’s about to hit it when she stops, snapping her hoof. “Wait, what am I thinking?” She hurries over and scrapes away at the amber encasing my horn. “Let’s get this off you.”

“You want me to blow the wall?”

“No, silly. We need to teleport out of here. Simpler and faster.”

I bite my lip.

“Silverspeak, come on. We don’t have any time to waste.”

Beakbreaker doesn’t know that I can’t cast magic, not without signing my own death warrant. Do I tell her about my tumor, or do I keep it a secret? No. No, I can’t keep it a secret. Painful as it may be, I need to let my wife know. That’s what Celestia would do if she were in my position: let her family know about a serious illness so that they can come to terms with it. Better to gently tell a harsh truth than to tell a sweet lie, or say nothing at all.

“Beakbreaker...” Oh Celestia, how do I tell her? “Beakbreaker, I can’t teleport us out of here.”

“Why not? We have to try. We can’t just-”

I put my hooves on her shoulders. “I can’t because...” Oh Celestia, give me the strength to tell her the truth, to endure the pain of destroying my wife’s dreams of the two of us living our lives together.

“Because what?”

“Because... because I’m ill, Beakbreaker. Very ill.”

Beakbreaker’s eyes narrow. “What? What do you-”

“Beakbreaker, Luna and the Resistance’s doctor did a series of tests on me. They found...” I take a deep breath. “They found a tumor in my brain. It’s cancer.”

My wife ages five years in five seconds.

“They’ve managed to contain it for now, but I can’t use any magic,” I quickly say. “If I do, it’ll spread out of control, and they won’t be able to stop it.” I rub my face, trying to work up the courage to continue. “I’m okay for now, and if we free Celestia, she might be able to remove it.”

Beakbreaker doesn’t speak.

“I’m sorry, Beakbreaker. I really am. But there’s nothing we can do about it. So why don’t we focus on just getting out of here?”

It takes another minute for Beakbreaker to move, and another minute after that before she can talk. “Silverspeak... I...”

I gently take her head in my hooves. “Beakbreaker, there’s nothing you could have done to stop it. For now, we need to focus on stopping Mangus. He knows where the Resistance base is. We need to get up there and warn Luna.”

I watch my wife struggle. She wants to break down and cry, to scream, to deny the truth, but she also realizes that there’s so much more at stake than our own lives. That gives her something to focus on, a goal to fulfill and take her mind off the horrible truth.

“Yes... yes, you’re right.”

I give her a reassuring smile. “Then let’s get out of here.” I turn back to the wall, studying it. “I think I can break through,” I say, “but it’s going to take time.” My backup power’s been depleted, and it’s going to take at least two hours for them to recharge, time we can’t afford to spare. But if I can get a splinter in, maybe even a hairline fracture, then that’ll give me something to work with.

Turning, I kick the amber several times, then inspect my handiwork.

Nothing.

“Here,” Beakbreaker says. “Let me.” She goes to the wall and turns around.

“Beakbreaker, I mean no offense, but you’re... well, you won’t be able to hit as well as you did when you were young-”

Beakbreaker smashes her hooves into the wall with a thunderous bang, leaving a crack in their wake.

My jaw falls open. “How did you-”

“When I was working on Iron Hoof’s research, I developed arthritis in my legs,” Beakbreaker says. “He didn’t like that, so he gave me new ones.”

She smashes the amber again.

“Then you’re-”

“A cyborg? Yes. Organic body and four metal legs.”

Several more jackhammer kicks sends giant chunks of amber falling to the floor.

Beakbreaker looks to me with a smile. “Now, you think the two of us working together can break this?”

I grin.

Together, the two of us hit the wall in sync, smashing it repeatedly, our artificial legs making progress where organic ones would have quickly given out from exhaustion. Bit by bit, minute by minute, we make progress until we create a tiny hole. That small hole quickly becomes a big one, and we finally create an opening wide enough for us to fit through.

Peering out into the chamber, I look around for Mangus. He’s nowhere in sight. Satisfied, I extend my wings. “Hop on.”

When Beakbreaker’s on my back, and her legs tight around my neck, I leap from our prison and fly towards the end of the bridge, and the door leading up to the surface. But there’s something we have to do first: If we’re lucky, Mangus left Chrysalis and Thorax behind in his haste to leave. Luck smiles on me, for both their forms are still on the bridge’s base, more amber gluing them to the floor.

Landing, I wait until Beakbreaker slides off my back before rushing to one of the amber chunks and peering inside. But the amber is too foggy for me to make out who’s inside.

“Silverspeak, what are you doing?” Beakbreaker asks. “We need to get going! These two will have to wait until we-”

“We’ll need all the help we can get,” I say. “Thorax is in one of these.”

That changes Beakbreaker’s tone. “And who’s the other one?”

“Chrysalis.”

“What?!”

“It’s a long story,” I say as I adjust my glasses, squinting to see who’s inside. When that fails, I hurry to the other chunk, but I can’t make out who’s inside this one as well.

I have to make a choice, and I hurry back to the first chunk and hit it. “Beakbreaker, help me break this open!”

Beakbreaker joins me, her legs bucking the amber faster than my own. She would much rather be on her way, and I don’t blame her. The sooner we get the two out, the sooner-

The chamber rumbles. A stalactite shakes, sways, and breaks free from the ceiling and narrowly misses the bridge as it plunges into the abyss.

“What was that?” Beakbreaker nervously asks.

I hit the chunk harder and harder. “I don’t know, but it can’t be good!”

Beakbreaker redoubles her efforts, and we finally shatter the side of the chunk. Turning, we grab hold and dig away, yanking out pieces of amber, freeing the pony insi-

Oh no... this isn’t Thorax! It’s Chrysalis! No, no, no! We need Thorax, not her!

Another tremor, and two more stalactites plunge from the ceiling, vanishing into the darkness below. But it’s not the shaking of the chasm that worries me; the air itself feels charged with a massive amount of magic energy.

“We have to go!” Beakbreaker shouts, for she feels it, too. “Now!”

She’s right. I need to throw her on my back and fly... but I can’t leave Chrysalis here. She’s an old changeling without magic or wings, but we need every set of hooves we can get. If she can hold a gun, she can fight.

I dig away the rest of the amber and drag Chrysalis free before tossing her onto my back.

“Beakbreaker! Get on!”

“With her?!”

“Do it!” Another rumble almost throws us off our feet. “Hurry!”

Groaning, Beakbreaker rushes over and climbs onto my back, lying on top of Chrysalis.

An ear-splitting crack, and more stalactites fall from above as the chasm shakes and shudders, boulders and chunks of rock joining the hail of debris. The entire place is falling apart like a temple in one of Daring Do’s movies!

A stalactite falls from over us. I leap back as it slams into the stone blocking the door, nudging it just enough that we can slip through.

“Hold on tight!”

Grabbing Chrysalis’ front legs to keep her from sliding off, I fly for the door. It’s partially open, and I slip through into the tunnel leading back to the elevator, flying up into the shaft as quickly as I can, trusting that Beakbreaker’s metal legs won’t lose their hold around my neck.

We reach the top of the shaft, and I have to beat my wings furiously to keep from crashing into the cage surrounding it. Dropping to the floor, I run down the the long chute through the processing factory, not daring to slow down as machinery sways, shakes, and groans. Windows shatter in their frames, and chunks of brick fall from the walls, allowing polluted sunlight to pool inside.

At last, the doors appear. Kicking them open, I run out into the street. Buildings are crumbling all around me, weaker ones falling to the streets and quickly blocking off escape routes

“What’s happening?!” Beakbreaker yells.

I don’t know, and I don’t care to find out. We’ve got to get moving, but there’s no sign of Green Wing, and without a radio, it’s impossible for me to get in touch with her!

“Silverspeak, head north!”

“What?”

“When I was brought here, the shuttle landed at the docks to the north. I saw some other shuttles there as well!”

If everyone’s evacuated the island, it’s doubtful they’ll be there, but we’ll have to chance it.

Taking to the sky again, I race over Manehattan as more buildings fall and crumble, sending up enormous clouds of dust that threaten to choke the three of us. I recognize some of the buildings, towers I walked and flew past countless times. But none of them can hold up against the earthquake tearing them apart.

My past is falling apart around me.

We finally reach the docks, and I shoot down towards several hangars that weren’t present when I was last on the island. Landing, I kick the doors in on the closest one and rush inside. Amazingly enough, there’s one shuttle inside, similar to the one Green Wing and I flew in – what, a day ago? Celestia, feels like a lifetime.

“Can you fly that?!” Beakbreaker asks.

“I think so!”

I run to the shuttle, yank the door open, and hurry inside, slamming the door shut behind us. Beakbreaker slides off my back, and I dump Chrysalis to the floor as I rush into the cockpit and take a seat. Okay, it’s... mostly similar to the shuttle I flew before. Can’t be too different.

Beakbreaker gets into the co-pilot’s seat. “Please tell me you can you fly this.”

I hit what I hope are the right buttons. The engines come on, and I take hold of the control stick. “Here we go!”

Taking off, I ram through the hangar doors, breaking out into the open. There’s no time to look back or do anything fancy. I point us upwards and race forward as fast as I can, pedal to the metal. We need to get as far away from the island as possible before whatever’s going to happen, will happen.

I check the rear view mirror. All of Manehattan is now enveloped in a cloud of smoke, ash, and dust. No towers remain standing; only a few hangars and small structures at the docks can still be seen. Everything’s fallen away, and-

The wind shifts, and the smoke and ash is hit by a heavy gust. Something emerges from the smoke, a single, solitary tower, the last structure on Manehattan that's still standing. I squint, trying to make out what building is is. What building will have the honor being the last…

I stop. A lump forms in my throat. I recognize that building.

It’s where my dreams became a reality.

It’s the Medicomp tower.

The tower, old, battered, and weakened, sways, glass and debris falling from its gutted exterior. Yet, the tower remains standing, refusing to fall as Manehattan collapses beneath it.

A chunk of the side falls away, rooms and abandoned equipment spewing out to the unseen streets. The Medicomp name, bolted to the edge of the roof in giant, metal letters, falls off, letter by letter.

Then, without a sound, the Medicomp tower breaks apart, falling into the ash below.

It’s gone.

I can’t pull my gaze away. The tower was just a building, one among many, old and past its prime, so damaged that it could never be repaired.

That realization doesn’t stop the tear that slides down my cheek.

The smoke spreads out, only to be stopped as a giant dome of red energy erupts from beneath the island, bulging upwards and out, throwing debris into the sky. But as soon as it appears, it’s gone, and what was thrown up falls back, vanishing into the unseen remains of Manehattan.

Beakbreaker’s staring out out the windows, shocked. “What happened?”

Sniffing, I try to figure that out. That dome of energy was powerful magic, far beyond anything ordinary ponies could accomplish. Was the chasm with Mangus’ captives teleported away? It makes sense: Iron Hoof and Mangus would want their captives to be kept somewhere safe; perhaps Mangus wanted to wait until both of his oldest foes had been added to his menagerie before sending his captives somewhere away from the destruction his plan will cause.

But… What could possibly destroy a chamber that far underground?

I try to push the thought aside as I aim us towards the sky and press the engines to maximum speed, rocketing us into the atmosphere and the void beyond. The moon’s up there, and with it, the last remains of the Resistance. If we’re quick enough, we can reach them in half an hour.

Please, Celestia, don’t let us be too late.

Author's Notes:

I never expected to get so emotional writing the destruction of a building.