The sound of the ocean’s waves beating against one another assaults my ears as I race towards Mangus’ island, wiping water from my goggles as I furiously beat my wings. The island’s still far away, and I have so much distance to cover. But I’ll make it. I have to.

The mountain grows steadily larger as I approach. Iron Hoof’s island has a mountain range on the northern edge, acting as a wall at the edge of flat, gently sloping land. Where there was once grass, there’s now concrete, and towers instead of trees.

The closer I get, the more I see, and the more I see, the more my stomach tightens. Iron Hoof’s forces have turned the island into a fortress, an ugly collage of grey, concrete towers with mounted guns, sentry posts, and outposts crushing out whatever beauty the island once had.

Towering above all the towers and fortress is an enormous colosseum near the island’s northern point. I gawk at realizing it’s sheer scope and size. Equestria once held great sports stadiums that could hold thousands. This dwarfs them all, being big enough to hold dozens of stadiums.

But that isn’t the smallest structure.

At the end of the island, past the colosseum and the mountains lies a tower that stretches into the sky, standing twice as tall as the tallest mountain, the setting sun casting its shadow over the colosseum, the buildings, the fortresses, walls, and even the beaches at the southernmost edge. But as I get closer, I realize that it’s not a tower at all. Unlike the defensive tower of a castle, or a skyscraper from the world’s great cities, this is an oversized spire, an ornate and beautiful structure that would be found on a cathedral. Even from miles away, it’s curving, ornate and gilded exterior is glorious to behold.

Yet, for all its beauty, something about that spire makes me uneasy.

The island’s southern beaches come into view, and with them, the concrete barriers, guard towers, and barbed wire that takes the place of palm trees and tropical bushes.

It isn’t long before I hear alarms blaring from outposts along the coast.

I head for the closest beach, landing on the grey sand. Searchlights shine on me a moment later, the obscenely bright light almost blinding me. But I don’t run. I stay where I am, waiting.

It isn’t long before dozens of soldiers rush onto the beach, kicking up sand as they fall in line before me, raising rifles, shotguns, and grenade launchers, their faces hidden behind full-face helmets.

I feel no fear as I match their unseen gazes.

“My name is Silverspeak,” I announce. “I have come to speak with your leaders.”

The soldiers look to each other, surprised. They were probably expecting a suicide bomber, not the pony who was the public speaker for their leader’s regime.

An officer takes out a radio, turns away from me and mutters something unheard to me.. He waits, and nods as I hear a muffled reply from the radio. Slipping the radio back into its holster, he walks to me. “You will come with us, Silverspeak. Any resistance will be met with lethal force.”

I nod.

Pleased at acquiring such a valuable prisoner, the officer snaps his hooves, and six soldiers flank me on both sides. One grabs hold of my head while an inhibitor ring is forced over my horn, and two unicorns clasp weights onto my wings to render then inoperable..

I silently endure the indignity.

Another two unicorns scan me with their magic. “He’s clean, sir,” one says. “No weapons or explosives.”

Eager to get going, the officer nods and indicates for the guards to move.

I follow the guards as they escort me off the beach. And yet, despite having just surrendered myself to the enemy, I feel no fear. I’ve made it to Iron Hoof’s island without being shot on sight. Now I just have to reach my targets, and play my part as best I can.

I feel... strangely calm.

The soldiers shove me along, and I follow without complaint.

As soon as we get off the beach, the officer has his troops load themselves into an open bed truck, persuading me to join them with their guns. When we’re all in, the truck starts down a road that stretches across the island, lined with countless outposts, flak towers, and barbed wire.

My throat tightens up as we pass the smoking, crumpled remains of a giant zeppelin.... a zeppelin that looks like the Vengeance. It’s been torn apart, blasted into scrap metal before it even covered a third of the island. The steel girders still glow white hot. Yet, there are no ponies surrounding the wreckage, no firefighters trying to put out the blaze. The Vengeance has been abandoned.

I try to study the ground, to see if there’s any body bags or smoldering bodies. But the truck continues on, and I lose sight of the wreckage.

Sitting back, I breathe deep, closing my eyes to calm myself. There’s nothing I can do for those who were on the zeppelin, beyond saying a prayer for those who have died.

Heartless as it feels, I have to stay focused on what I’m here to do.

It takes almost half an hour to reach towering walls of reinforced concrete. Steel gates grind open like nails down a chalkboard, and we drive through into the streets of a city of concrete and banners. Thousands of soldiers are rushing about, but not from panic or fear. They’re excited. Eager, even. They all hurry about, carrying different crates, weapons, and supplies, but all of them have one thing in common:

All of them are heading for the colosseum.

The truck joins a convoy of over a hundred vehicles heading for the enormous structure. I prepare myself for a long wait, but it isn’t long before we arrive at the colosseum’s base. The numerous gates built into the walls are wide open, letting the innumerable soldiers pour into and fill the building to capacity.

The truck comes to a stop near a guarded entrance, and I’m coerced into disembarking with a gun jammed into the back of my head. Once more, I’m scanned by guards, and, satisfied that I am incapable of hurting or killing anyone, they allow us through.

I keep pace with the soldiers as they go through the hall at a fast trot. Despite the thick, stone walls, I can hear something ahead of us: it’s music. Patriotic, military-style music designed to stoke a patriotic fervor in everyone who hears it. Or, more likely, nationalistic narcissism.

The officer comes to a halt before a set of black obsidian doors. There are no decorations, no hints about what awaits us on the other side. Is it a parade? A celebration? My execution? Has one been thrown together at the last instant, just so that Mangus and Iron Hoof can have the joy of watching their last and greatest enemy be executed for all to see? No, that can’t be it: they wouldn’t summon everyone on the island to this place just for that. There has to be something else going on here.

Whatever it is, I have the feeling that the end of my quest, and the end to this war, lies beyond these doors.

The end of my life may be there, too.

Strange... Even though death is likely waiting for me beyond these doors, I’m still not afraid. It’s easy to face death knowing that I’m fighting to save others, instead of hiding and crying and waiting for the inevitable.

Better to die standing up than to live on your knees.

The officer speaks into his radio. When the reply comes back, he gestures for his soldiers to open the doors. They do so, grabbing hold of the enormous handles and shoving them open.

With another deep breath, I gather my courage and follow them inside.

I didn’t know what to expect when passing through the doors. There could have been anything on the other side, but what I see takes my breath away. From the outside the colosseum is enormous, but the interior is so huge it boggles the mind. The smooth, reflective floor stretches on for what seems like miles, hundreds of thousands of soldiers standing upon it at attention, facing a giant podium at the other end. Pillars and banners line the walls, along with numerous, building-sized carvings showing ponies accomplishing some great deed from Equestria’s past. They’re stylized pieces, meant to convey pride and awe, showing none of our failings. That, too, is reflected in enormous, golden statues of ponies lie pressed against the walls, each at least a hundred feet tall and with perfect, olympian physiques, free from imperfections and flaws. And beneath all the decorations and carvings, sitting on countless seats, are hundreds of thousands of spectators, waving flags and beaming with pride at seeing the armed forces before them.

I have to force myself to walk; there may be almost a million ponies in here, and I feel the weight of all their eyes coming down on me.

We walk towards the other end of the colosseum, where a podium of grey marble stretches up several stories, giving speakers a hawk’s-eye view of the colosseum floor beneath them. Beyond it is the spire , stretching so high up that spectators have to crane their heads back just to see the top.

But it’s not the spire that interests me, or the podium. It’s the enormous, black throne set against the wall.

Black Fang sits upon that throne.

The dragon’s giant eyes see us coming

They narrow on me.

I match that gaze as we approach the podium. A band is playing there, the source of the patriotic music that echoes throughout the colosseum. Before them are numerous soldiers dressed in elaborate, ceremonial armor, carrying antique halberds, spears, and rifles. If I had to guess, these are elite guards, meant to protect someone of great importance. But instead of a pony, they’re guarding a group at the podium’s base, a base of...

Oh no...

Onyx’s strike force lies at the base of the podium. But they’re not the angry force that set out for one last stand against Iron Hoof’s forces: they’re tattered, scuffed, and beaten, skin, fur, and scales covered in dried blood and bruises, eyes almost swollen shut. They all wear collars connected by a single chain that binds them to the podium.

Queen Chrysalis, ever fierce, ever defiant to all authority but her own, lies slumped on the floor, one eye swollen shut, her body battered and bloody. And beside her, slumped over and almost lifeless, lies Onyx. He’s staring at nothing, his fiery spirit extinguished. He doesn’t even notice me coming up. None of them do. Their spirit, their fire, the willingness to fight and die for a worthy cause, is gone. Only despair and grief remains.

My escorts come to a stop before the podium. I look around, wondering if they’re going to drag me over to that wall, slap a collar on me, and chain me there as well. But no one comes forward.

The band, reaching the end of their piece, falls silent as someone walks to the top of the podium, taking their place at a speaking platform. Magical screens light up around the colosseum, giving everyone a view of the pony who stands before them. It’s Iron Hoof, dressed in robes of red and black that give him the appearance of a priest.

The colosseum goes silent as Iron Hoof adjusts his robe and taps a small, glowing orb, amplifying his voice. “Brothers! Sisters! Citizens of New Equestria! Today we come together to celebrate a day we have all dreamed of. A day that we have fought for, bled for, and sacrificed so much to achieve. Today is the end of the war!”

Cheers erupt from throughout the colosseum, the noise so loud that my ears hurt.

Iron Hoof raises a hoof, and the cheers quiet down. “This day, this victory, belongs to all of you!”

More cheers.

“Your reward is to watch the final destruction of the Resistance, and any who would dare opposes us.” Iron Hoof indicates the ones chained beneath him. “With their execution, the Resistance will finally end!”

Boos and taunts fill the air.

Onyx, Chrysalis, and the others flinch. Some burst into tears, unable to bear the shame and humiliation.

Iron Hoof indicates the spire. “And this glorious structure, which you have built, will eliminate anyone else who seeks to harm, consume, or enslave our kind!”

The audience goes berserk.

Iron Hoof lets the crowd have their moment before he raises his hooves again. “But I have been informed that there is one last member of the Resistance who escaped our grasp.” He lowers his gaze to me. “Before me stands the last, pitiful member of the Resistance! The great traitor, Silverspeak!”

The air erupts into a storm of insults and mockery, all directed at me.

I feel no fear, no shame, and no weakness. I ignore it all, my eyes focused on the dragon seated behind the podium.

“Tell me, Silverspeak,” Iron Hoof asks, “Why you have come before us? To plead for mercy? To spare your companions?”

Spotlights shine down upon me. Millions of eyes turn towards me, awaiting my response.

I stand tall and face my enemy. “No.”

Iron Hoof expected me to beg for mercy, or to accept defeat. So did the crowd, if the sudden silence is to be believed. Recovering quickly, Iron Hoof regains his composure, adjusting his robe to save face. “Really now? Then did you come back to join the winning side?”

“No.”

Now thoroughly confused, Iron Hoof studies me, trying to figure out what my play is. “Then why did you come?”

I meet his gaze. “To talk.”

Iron Hoof laughs. “Is that all? To engage me in verbal-”

“I did not come here to speak with you, Iron Hoof,” I say. I point to Black Fang. “I came to speak with him.”

Iron Hoof instinctively looks back, surprised. “Him?”

“I am the last free member of the Resistance,” I say. “Thus, I am their emissary. I request an audience with Black Fang here and now, where everyone may listen.”

Murmurs rush through the colosseum. A million hushed voices whisper to one another.

Onyx and the other members of the Resistance look to me, wondering what I’m doing.

“No,” Iron Hoof says. “Preposterous. It will not happen.”

Mangus’ giant, reptilian body moves. “If he wishes to talk,” he says, his voice deep and rumbling. “Then I will listen.”

“Black Fang,” Iron Hoof begins. “Don’t waste time listening-”

“He is an emissary of your enemies,” Mangus’ amplified voice shakes the colosseum. “He deserves to be heard.”

Caught between the two of us, Iron Hoof looks back and forth, unsure what to do. Will he defy his benefactor? Concede to him?

Scowling, and not the least bit happy, Iron Hoof reluctantly walks off the podium.

Black Fang leans forward, his enormous head stretching down, one great eye focusing on my tiny form. “You say you have come to speak with me,” Mangus says. “For what purpose?”

I glare up at my enemy, the pony who has caused so much death and misery. I’m the only one here who knows who he really is. He’ll be expecting me to try and expose him; I’ll have to tread carefully.

“To end this war,” I say.

Mangus chuckles. “It is already over.”

“Not when one pony still stands against you.”

The dragon smiles. “Noble words, Silverspeak. But you are alone. You have no allies left.” He sweeps his arms, indicating everyone around us. “I have many.”

I smile.

I was hoping he would say that.

“Still, you have come far,” Mangus admits. “You’ve shown great courage and valor. And to come into the heart of the enemy’s territory, hoping to end further bloodshed... such nobility deserves to be rewarded.” He leans in lower. “I will grant you your wish, Silverspeak. I will listen to what you have to say.”

Silence falls upon the colosseum. I feel everyone looking to me. Over a million ponies await my reply, the largest audience I’ve ever had. It’s not unlike that stage before Medicomp all those decades ago, when I addressed the Guardians of Tradition, engaging in a war of words with their founder... But this is no debate, no speech to sway minds.

This is my last chance to stop Mangus.

The stakes have never been higher... but I’ve never felt more calm in all my life. Every speech I’ve given, every debate, every argument, has led me to this moment.

This is my swan song. My final performance.

I’m ready.

Taking a deep breath and clearing my throat, I face Black Fang. “Why have you aided Iron Hoof and the others?”

“To make our world a better place, of course,” Mangus says. “To eliminate all those who would fight against ponies. It’s been a resounding success, don’t you think?”

I shake my head, a small smirk etched across my face.

“Oh?”

“If you have succeeded at anything, Black Fang, it’s in destroying everything we held dear.”

Mangus is silent for a split second, no doubt puzzled why I’m addressing him by his alter-ego.

“Have we really destroyed anything of value, Silverspeak?” Mangus continues. “Buildings, yes. Cities, towns, communities, all have been reduced to rubble, but they can be rebuilt. All of Equestria can be returned to its former glory. But what we have truly destroyed are the vermin of this earth: the ones who were planning to turn against ponykind.”

“And where is your proof?”

“History is our proof,” Mangus says. “Time and time again, selfishness and greed consume even the most loyal allies. They grow envious of power and want it for their own, so they try to take it, slaughtering everyone who would stop them. Do you not agree?”

I can’t argue with that. “I do.”

Again, Mangus hesitates for a moment. He realizes I’m up to something, but he doesn’t know what, and he doesn’t dare show his confusion before his impressive audience.

“Then you must see the truth,” Mangus says. “Everything Iron hoof and his loyal followers have done was for the best.”

I nod. “They may think so... but that doesn’t make it true.” I turn around, addressing the crowds around me, my visage on every screen floating before the walls. But this time there are no jeers or taunts. No one speaks, wanting to hear what I have to say.

“You all believe that you have done what is best for Equestria, but all you have brought is death, suffering, and misery to millions of innocent beings.”

As I expected, protests start up. Boos and shouted curses are thrown my way.

“But I do not blame you,” I say, raising my voice. “I do not blame any of you for what you have done.”

The jeering stops. Silence returns, and I can hear confused whispers as the crowd tries to figure out what I’m doing.

“Everyone here is flawed,” I continue. “We all have our dark sides... our monsters... that lurk below our smiles. These monsters are selfish, cruel, and care nothing for others.”

“Spare us your self-help babble, Silverspeak!” Iron Hoof snaps.

I turn to the podium and face my adversaries. “Evil,” I say, “encourages us to indulge in our vices: the desire to dominate. To have power over others. To be prejudiced and hateful to those different than ourselves.” I point to Iron Hoof. “Iron Hoof gave you permission to drown yourself in your vices and hatreds.”

Iron Hoof shakes. “How dare-”

“But I do not blame Iron Hoof, either,” I say, raising my voice even higher. “He is not evil. He, like all of you, is a victim. A pony hurt by the evil of others, so easy to sway when evil came to him with a friendly face, whispering words he wanted to hear.”

Iron Hoof stops, baffled at seeing one of his most hated foes defending him.

He doesn’t notice Black Fang stiffening up behind him.

“I don’t blame you for leading so many astray, Iron Hoof.” I point to Black Fang. “I blame him.”

I feel the gaze of everyone in the stadium falling on Black Fang, Iron Hoof included.

Mangus remains still, looking down on me, his draconic face unreadable... and then he laughs. “Is that the best you have, Silverspeak? You forget that I am Iron Hoof’s ally. I have helped him, and everyone here, achieve their dreams.”

“Oh yes,” I say. “You have... but tell me... do you think allies should be open with each other?”

It’s so satisfying to see Mangus realize that I’ve been luring him into a trap, one that’s about to be sprung.

“Of course,” he says reluctantly.

“Do you believe they should tell the truth?”

“Of course.”

I spring my trap. “Then why haven’t you told your allies the truth?” I ask. “That you’re not Black Fang.”

“Enough!” Iron Hoof yells. “Soldiers! I order you to-”

“Evil loves to deceive those who have pledged themselves to it!” I yell, pouring more power into my voice. “Evil delights in controlling, manipulating, and lying to make others do its bidding.” I once again point to Black Fang, “He has deceived you all. He started this war, and has been manipulating everyone here for his own ends!”

“You lie!” Iron Hoof roars.

“I can prove that I’m telling the truth.” This is the riskiest moment of my plan: if Iron Hoof refuses to comply, then I’ll have no choice but to use my emergency power to end both him and Mangus. But from the whispers and murmurs around us, I know that won’t happen. I’ve been working to rouse the crowd’s curiosity; accusing Black Fang of being an imposter will make them want to know if I’m telling the truth, and refusing to go along will make Iron Hoof look suspicious as well... and he knows it.

“Very well,” Iron Hoof hisses through clenched teeth. “What is this little trick of yours?”

“Have your unicorns scan Black Fang’s head,” I say. “Have them see if there’s someone inside it.”

Iron Hoof laughs. “What madness-”

“Ten seconds, Iron Hoof,” I repeat, refusing to give in. I’ve got both leaders of this war right where I want them, and I won’t yield, not now. “In ten seconds you can prove to everyone here whether your benefactor is who he says he is.”

“Do not heed the words of this desperate pony,” Mangus rumbles. “He only seeks to deceive you all.”

“Then you refuse to let us scan you?” I call out.

“And waste everyone’s time indulging a lunatic? I think not.”

“Then you have something to hide, Black Fang,” I say. “After all, someone who is innocent wouldn’t hesitate to prove it.”

I fall silent. My plan to force Mangus to expose himself has gone off better than I had hoped. If he refuses to let himself be scanned, everyone here will realize something’s wrong. That doubt will grow and fester, until everyone here will want the truth. But if he gives in and lets himself be scanned, everything falls apart.

Mangus glares down at me, full of rage that wants to crush me here and now, to silence my voice forever... but if he does so, everyone will realize I was telling the truth.

I’ve exposed him... and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Draped in the shadows of Black Fang’s massive jaw, Iron Hoof looks out to the crowds, unsure what to do, hating me for forcing him into this position. But, at last, he finally yields, gesturing for several soldiers to come up.

Ten unicorns hurry up the steps to the top of the podium. Mangus, still glaring at me, doesn’t move as the unicorns cast their magic upon Black Fang’s head.

Five seconds later, they gasp and step back.

“S... sir....” one says to Iron Hoof, the magical enchantment amplifying his words for all to hear. “There’s.... there’s someone inside there!”

More gasps.

Confused, Iron Hoof spins to Black Fang. “What... What is the meaning of this?!”

Mangus doesn’t answer.

Shaking, his world falling apart, Iron Hoof raises a hoof. “Who are you?!”

Mangus still doesn’t move.

“Soldiers!” Iron Hoof yells.

I’m forgotten as all the soldiers around me raise their weapons towards their dragon ally, targeting his head.

“I will ask one final time...” Iron Hoof hisses. “Who. Are. You?”

The giant body of Black Fang remains still, his giant eyes looking about. But they’re no longer the eyes of an intelligent being: they’re the eyes of a cornered animal knowing that there’s no way out.

I know what’s coming, but it’s still unnerving to see the top of Black Fang’s head unfurl. Around me, soldiers and spectators cry out, shocked and disgusted as the mass of tendrils rises from the dragon’s exposed brain, dripping blood as they unravel themselves, revealing the pony beneath.

I’m not surprised to hear shrieks and screams around me. Dozens of soldiers instinctively step back, tripping over themselves as they fall at seeing Mangus Bluehorn before them. In the decades since the second siege of Canterlot, when what he had done had been exposed, Mangus Bluehorn’s name has become synonymous with betrayal, greed, and selfishness. It was Chrysalis who wanted to take over Equestria, but it was Mangus who was all-too happy to sell out his own country, his own kind, to get a piece of the prize. Others have tried to conquer our land and our neighbors, but each of them stood for something: A cause, a crusade, bringing what they believed was righteousness to the masses. But not Mangus. He stood only for himself.

Mangus stands upon Black Fang’s head, his scowl enormous on the viewscreens surrounding us all, ignoring the shrieks of the ponies who have realized in horror that they’ve been working for one of the most reviled ponies in Equestria’s history.

Iron Hoof stares at his former benefactor, his skin pale.

“Silverspeak? Silverspeak, can you hear me?!”

I’m so surprised at hearing the voice in my head that I almost jump before recognizing it. “Beakbreaker?” I whisper.

“Thank goodness... Gusty hoped you hadn’t taken out your communication implant.”

“Where are you?” I ask. “Are you alright?”

“Sorry we’re late, Boss,” Gusty says. We just had to free someone.”

“Who?”

Above me, Mangus stands tall, his eyeless gaze looking towards everyone in the colosseum. “It appears my secret is out,” he says with a sigh. “Silverspeak is right... I started this war, and you have all played your part admirably.” He smiles. “But all good things must end... and I have no further need of any of you.”

He raises his scepter high.

“I’ll give you a moment to make peace with your-”

An explosion drowns out Mangus’ smug voice. I spin, along with thousands of others, as chunks of the colosseum wall flies high above us, and then slams down like meteors.

Through the smoke where a wall once was, a form thunders into the colosseum, green and purple wings unfurling as he announces his arrives with a guttural roar.

It’s Spike!

Spike’s roar echoes through the colosseum as fire belches from his maw, bathing the seats and the soldiers in green and white flames. Screams are drowned out beneath the fire as soldiers rush Spike, firing their weapons and their magic, but they’re engulfed in flames as Spike turns against them with unstoppable fury.

“I knew he’d come in handy!” Gusty yells over the radio.

I spin as giant feet slam into the podium, where Mangus glares at me, and for a moment all else is forgotten. It’s just the two of us facing one another, as if no time has passed at all since our last, bloody feud.

A yank on the tendrils, and Mangus has Black Fang’s mouth open, the throat glowing red from an unseen fire.

I run for the podium and the Resistance prisoners chained against it, throwing myself as close to the stone as I can as Mangus unleashes a blast of scalding flame. It washes out like a wave, enveloping the soldiers and elite guards around me. Their screams are lost in the roar of flames, but I couldn’t hear them even if I wanted to; I’m screaming, too. The heat... oh Celestia, it’s burning! It’s burning me up!

Then the fire stops as more explosions rain down from above. The Raven materializes, unleashing a barrage of rockets and bullets into Black Fang’s hide. I don’t see Mangus, but I hear him yelling in fury, and Black Fang’s tail shoots overhead as he retreats.

I take only a second to look myself over: my fur’s been singed, but I’m not burnt; the podium provided just enough protection to save me and the Resistance.

Rising, I grab a singed, smoking gun from a now-dead soldier and take aim at the chain binding the Resistance together. A few blasts from the rifle’s shotgun attachment, and the chain breaks, freeing them all.

Onyx rises as if waking from a dream, scarcely able to believe what’s happening. Then he looks to me, the pony who sold him out and everyone he cared about to save my wife.

I only give Onyx the briefest of glimpses before shoving the rifle into his hooves and running to the stairs heading up the podium, paying no heed to the war behind me as Spike bathes the colosseum in fire as Iron Hoof’s army fights to stop him. I had hoped they would kill Mangus, but now it’s up to me.

I have to stop Mangus, no matter the cost!

Iron Hoof’s lying in a heap at the top of the podium, shell-shocked and struggling to make sense of everything that’s happened. I pay him no heed as I bolt up another set of stairs leading towards the giant throne, and then around them, rushing through a small hallway leading out of the colosseum. Mangus is heading into the Spire; what he plans to do in there, I have no idea, but I can’t let him do it!

Black Fang’s massive claws dig into the spire as he climbs towards the top, silhouetted against the reds and oranges of the setting sun. Atop Black Fang’s skull, Mangus points his scepter at the tower and unleashes a spell that rapidly expands, enveloping the structure. The curves, nooks, and numerous smaller towers and spires glow, pulsing with magical energy.

A deep rumble and deafening boom fills the air, an unearthly humming drowning out the sound of Spike tearing through Iron Hoof’s army. Stone dust and broken rocks and bricks begin falling off.

What on earth-

With a deafening boom, the spire starts to rise. Slowly, but steady, the air humming as incredible energy pushes it upwards.

“Silverspeak!” Beakbreaker yells into my communicator. “The spire! It’s rising!”

“I know!” I yell, dashing onto a walkway leading towards the spire, one that spans a canyon separating it from the colosseum. I run with all my might, but it’s not enough!

Tearing the weights from my wings, I fly, racing up towards the Spire, aiming for a giant set of ceremonial doors. It keeps rising, and I keep beating my wings, willing myself to go faster. That’s my only way in, and if I miss it, I won’t be able to get inside!

A final dash, and my hooves barely manage to grasp the ledge, one of them slipping off and causing me to swing out and look into the abyss below. I fling myself forward, grabbing onto the ledge and pulling myself up with whatever hoofholds I find. I struggle to resist the wind trying to beat me off as I yank on the doors. They’re locked! Rearing back, I kick, hammering away, trying to break the locks.

Steel dents, bends, and finally gives way as I bolt inside. Throwing the doors shut, I take a moment to catch my breath, but only for a moment; Mangus is heading up towards something vitally important at the peak of this spire. I have to beat him to it!

I turn, looking for stairs, for an elevator, for anything that will take me up... and I stop in my tracks.

When I first realized how big the spire was, I wondered why it was so tall. Vanity, perhaps, or perhaps acting as a symbol for Iron Hoof’s might and power. But it wasn’t either of those: this spire was built to house Mangus’ prisoners, the ones I saw in his lair under Manehattan. They’re before me, giant chunks of amber magically suspended in the air, bobbing up and down inside the spire’s massive interior.

This spire... is it some kind of ark?!

The chamber thrums as magic courses through it. The walls light up as magic flows through them like blood in a vein.

Spreading my wings, I take flight once again, racing up as quickly as I can. The spire has to be at least two miles tall, perhaps even more, and I can’t spare even a moment to find a faster way up!

Magic courses down through the chamber’s walls and pillars, its speed increasing the higher I go, my motors and servos struggling from the effort. But at last the top appears, and with it, a platform. Dropping onto it, I run to the only door in sight and kick it open, running up the long staircase behind it. That staircase deposits me inside a long, curving corridor, the ceiling lost high above me as it stretches to my right and left, great windows allowing the fading light of day to shine inside, blocked briefly by passing clouds as the spire continues to rise.

I pant, my heart racing. The air here is charged with magic, the saturation so heavy I can almost bite into it. Whatever Mangus plans to use is somewhere nearby... and that set of giant doors has to lead to it.

I run to the doors and launch myself into them with a heavy kick. The doors buckle, but they don’t give. I grab the handles and tear them out, destroying the locks. Another kick, and the doors finally swing open, and I run through, and...

And I stop.

I’m inside the spire’s peak. It’s a vast, sprawling chamber filled with dozens of enormous, ornamental pillars covered in magical glyphs that also adorn on the walls, the domed ceiling, and the floor beneath my hooves, all pulsing with magical energy. It’s... it’s like I’m inside some sort of giant machine, one built to handle unimaginable amounts of magical energy. But what for?

I look up, and have my answer.

Embedded around the chamber’s domed roof are six enormous crystals, each a different color: Purple, yellow, white, blue, orange, and pink. Above them, suspended within an intricate harness of golden metal, are three more, one dark blue, and two pink. And above them all, suspended within a contraption resembling a battery holder, is the largest crystal, one pale white and glowing from within, as if lit by a raging sun.

I can scarcely breathe.

I... I’ve found them. I’ve found the Bearers. I’ve found the princesses.

I’ve found Celestia.

I try to move, to fly up and break those crystals, to shut down the machinery, to break the pillars, but... I can’t. How many beings have fought and struggled and died trying to find this place? I’m probably the first one in here, and the magnitude-

A shadow falls upon me.

“No matter where I go, and no matter what I do, you are always there, Silverspeak.”

Black Fang’s body walks over me, each step causing the floor to shake.

“You were very clever down there,” Mangus admits as he glares down at me. “I should have realized what you were up to; for all your weaknesses and failings, you always were the greater orator. But you accomplished nothing.”

“I’ve turned your minions against you!” I call out.

Mangus chuckles. “They were disposable.” He stretches his legs, gesturing to the grand chamber. “You are privileged, Silverspeak: the new age will begin here, and it is the combined might of the Bearers and the Princesses that will make it happen.” He points to the conduit above us. “This device will channel their magic and accomplish the greatest feat this world has ever seen.”

“Mangus, whatever it is, it won’t work!” I yell.

Another chuckle. “It will, Silverspeak. And you get to watch it happen.”

He turns away, ignoring me.

“Mangus!”

Mangus has Black Fang’s body stretch itself high, so that he’s beneath Celestia’s crystal. There, he raises his scepter and touches the two. A flash of light, and magic flows from all the crystals, pouring into the scepter.

“Mangus, stop!”

Mangus looks down at me, grinning, his scepter held high. He knows there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

“Let this world end, Silverspeak!” Mangus shouts. “Let all that is weak, feeble, and beyond repair be swept aside, so that strength may take its place!”

A beam of light erupts from Mangus’ scepter, hitting the conduit and charging it with energy.

‘Let one age end, and another begin!”

“Mangus, for the love of Celestia, STOP!”

“Equestria’s end!” Mangus thunders, “has finally come!”

“NO!” I scream.

A shockwave washes through the room, knocking me onto my back as power greater than anything I’ve ever felt washes over me, a blood red light filling the chamber.

The spell erupts like a volcano, shooting up into the hole atop the dome’s peak. But it doesn’t stop. It keeps going, unimaginable power shooting out like water pouring down Neighagra Falls. And all the while Mangus raises his legs, ecstatic beyond measure, maniacally laughing in triumph.

Celestia, I’ve got to stop this! Whatever this spell is doing, I have to stop it!

I leap to my hooves, charging my batteries.

Beakbreaker... forgive me....

I crouch, readying myself to fly. I’ve got only one shot at this; I’ve got to hit that conduit and blow it apart! If I miss, or if Mangus sees me coming, then I won’t get another chance!

Beating my wings, I-

A blast hits me, and I’m thrown to the floor. I roll, my armor smoking as I struggle to my hooves.

Who-

Another blast, and I hit a pillar, gasping as the wind’s knocked from my lungs.

Iron Hoof storms towards me, smoke rising from the barrel of a giant revolver. Around him, his elite guards stay close, the pegasi still panting and drenched in sweat from desperate flight.

“You have done enough damage today, Silverspeak!” Iron Hoof growls, turning red with rage. “I won’t let you stop what’s coming!”

I don’t have time for this! “Iron Hoof, Mangus isn’t your friend! He doesn’t care about you!”

The guards spread out, encircling us both.

“I will kill Mangus,” Iron Hoof snarls as he holsters his revolver. “I will tear him limb from limb and take control of this machine, and ensure that my work, my labors, will not have gone to waste... but not before I rip you apart!”

A yank tears Iron Hoof’s cloak away, revealing a suit of high-tech armor that fits him like a glove, artificial muscles bulging beneath numerous weapons mounted to the frame. He’s turned himself into a walking arsenal!

“Iron Hoof, stop!”

Iron Hoof charges, howling with rage, and the time for persuasion is over.

I roll as Iron Hoof brings down a hoof, effortlessly smashing the floor beneath me into dust. He swings and I narrowly leap clear.

High above, Mangus watches us both, delighted at our gruesome contest.

Jumping, I kick Iron Hoof in the chest, trying to knock him back. But his suit easily absorbs the blow. A mace and a long, serrated blade pops out from Iron Hoof’s forelegs. He swings away, forcing me to retreat, blowing the floor apart with each hit from that spiked mace.

I don’t have time for this!

I jump, my wings giving me a boost as I narrowly avoid another swing and land behind Iron Hoof, where I hit him in the lower back, trying to disable his suit, to find a weak spot. But it has no weaknesses: every part of the suit is masterfully put together without flaw or imperfections, the tightly woven outer layers flexible and providing unparalleled protection.

Iron Hoof grabs my leg and throws me overhead and into the floor, denting both. Crying out, I smash his armored hoof and break free. “Iron Hoof, listen to me! I’m not your enemy! Mangus is!”

Iron Hoof doesn’t listen as he comes at me again. I run back as he slams his mace down again and again, sending up chunks of marble,

I lash out and kick the mace, breaking it free and sending it flying. “He’ll destroy you!” I shout. I’ve got to make him see reason! Every second we spend fighting is one less second I have to stop a maniac who envisions himself a god! “He’s going to destroy everything you love!”

“Of course he will!” Iron Hoof swings at me and I roll to the side. “Why do you think we sought to capture the princesses?! To get them out of the way!”

Another overhead swing nearly slices my wing off.

“Only then, with no one left to stop us, could we use their combined magic to control Celestia’s sun!”

I freeze. “What?!”

“From within this chamber, Silverspeak, I shall use Celestia’s power to burn our world, to scour it clean and wipe away all who oppose our kind! And the magic from both the Bearers and the Princesses, I will rebuild our world from the ruins like a phoenix rising from the ashes, free from all parasites and their ilk!”

He... he... Oh no... Oh no, no, no, no! I had thought Mangus’ ultimate weapon was a spell of some sort, something dark and arcane, or a barrage of conventional weaponry: a planetwide barrage of empyrean bombs, a plague, something that turned the air poisonous. But what he planned was so much simpler, and so much more effective... something that no one could survive, no matter how strong or powerful they were!

I jump away as Iron Hoof’s blade narrowly misses my neck. “Beakbreaker! Beakbreaker, do you read me?!”

“Silverspeak?! Thank Celestia, Where-”

“The sun!” I hit Iron Hoof with a barrage of blows, trying to throw him off balance.

“What? Silverspeak, what are you-”

“It’s the sun! Mangus is going to bring down the sun! He’s going to drop the sun onto Equestria!”

“What?!”

“He’s going to destroy the planet!” I scream. “And then he’s going to build a new one from the ruins!” I ram Iron Hoof, knocking him back and giving me a few precious seconds. “Beakbreaker, you have to destroy the spire! The spire is the conduit! It’s channeling the magic! Do you hear me?! Destroy the spire!”

Iron Hoof spins, and I scream, falling back as blood sprays from my neck. And then my side buckles as I’m kicked to the floor. Iron Hoof snaps guns into place, firing and tearing into my armor. I shout and roll, trying to get away, to curl up and protect my head as bullets riddle my-

A wall explodes as something flies through, slamming chunks of rubble and rock around us, magical energy lashing out and slashing into the walls as Spike lands and barrels towards Mangus, roaring as he tackles Black Fang’s body into the chamber’s walls, nearly shattering them. Then it’s Mangus who roars as he retreats into Black Fang’s head, and punches Spike across the floor.

I barely roll clear as Spike hits Iron Hoof’s guards, reducing them to a red smear upon the marble before slamming into the other side of the dome. Spike leaps to his feet as Mangus tackles him, the two dragons rolling, wings and tails thrashing as they tear into one another.

My throat! Am I... no. No, I’m okay! Bleeding, yes, but the blade didn’t hit any arteries!

Iron Hoof rises, howling in rage at seeing his guards crushed into pulp. That distraction lets me leap into him, sending both of us across the floor as I hammer Iron Hoof again and again. If I’m going to destroy that conduit, I have to take him out so he won’t blast me out of the air!

I rear back for a killing blow, but find myself flying as Iron Hoof kicks me overhead, and I slam into the floor. Wobbling, my vision blurred, I stumble to my legs. Iron Hoof does the same. He’s breathing hard, but not as hard as I am. I’ve thrown everything I’ve got into him, and his armor is barely dented! There’s no way I can endure around round with him: Iron Hoof is too skilled, too experienced, and too fast. My mechanical strength is of no use here, and I can’t risk using my magic, which leaves only me with but one weapon: my voice. But Iron Hoof’s will is too strong, which means a direct assault won’t work. I have to find a way to break through his defenses, to find a weakness and exploit it. Everyone has one; mine is the thought of losing Beakbreaker. For Chrysalis, it was the realization that her life had been wasted, and that everyone would cheer her death. But what would Iron Hoof fear?

What’s the one thing that can destroy him?!

Spike roars as he tears into Black Fang. Despite being only half his size, Spike is in berserker mode, slashing and biting as he outmaneuvers his larger opponent, drenching the walls with dragon blood. But Mangus’ blows are ripping giant gashes in Spike’s hide, each bringing a deafening howl of pain.

Iron Hoof wipes blood from his lips. “You can’t win, Silverspeak!”.

My gut tightens. If I can’t figure out his weakness, the only one I love will...

Wait... That’s it!

Iron Hoof raises his guns, taking aim at my head. “Any last words, Silverspeak?”

I glare at him, focusing my charm to maximum. “Would they be proud of you?” I ask.

Iron Hoof’s so caught off guard that it takes him a moment to speak. “What are you talking about, you pathetic-”

“Your parents,” I say. “Your family. Would they be proud of you?”

Iron Hoof chuckles. “Still trying to manipulate me into surrendering, Silverspeak?!”

“Answer my question,” I say. “Would your family be proud of you?”

“Of course they would be!” Iron Hoof says. “I have eliminated all those who would threaten our kind: Changelings, griffons, dragons, yaks, kirins, and all the others! I have made them proud!”

“You’re wrong, Iron Hoof,” I say. “Your family would be ashamed of you.”

My opponent shakes. “How dare you-”

“You are a mockery to everything they stood for!” I say.

“You know nothing about what they stood for!” Iron Hoof yells.

“But I do.” I glare deep into Iron Hoof’s eyes, into his very soul. “You told me yourself: they stood for love and compassion. Your family looked out for one another. What was it you said? ‘I was taught that nothing was more important than helping each other.’ Have you lived up to their example?”

“Naive sentiments. Worthless sayings for those who have never known the greed and cruelty of others!”

Iron Hoof circles me, keeping his guns trained on my head.

“It was a rogue group of changelings who murdered your family, Iron Hoof,” I say. “It was the arch-dragons who burned you and killed your comrades, not the dragon race.”

“Parasites,” Iron Hoof hisses. “Degenerates, filth, all of them!”

“Would your parents say so? Would they call our changeling allies parasites? Would they call the dragons who have aided us savages?”

Iron Hoof hesitates.

“Would they?”

“You-”

“TELL. ME”

“It doesn’t matter!” Iron Hoof snarls. “They were ignorant! They didn’t know how-”

“No, they were not!” I shout. “They lived in an age of peace, an age that you destroyed! You destroyed the world they knew and loved! YOU destroyed everything our ancestors fought so hard to create!”

“To save our world!” Iron Hoof yells. “To save others from suffering as I did!”

“You threw a tantrum like a foal, killing everyone you perceived to be a threat. You committed genocide on a scale no one has ever seen.” I shake my head. “How would your parents feel, knowing that they raised the biggest racist of all time?”

Iron Hoof screams and fires. I throw myself to the floor, sliding into Iron Hoof and tripping him.

“How many families have you torn apart?!” I shout. “How many have you destroyed?!”

Screaming, Iron Hoof kicks me back. He leaps, swinging his blade, trying to decapitate me. Ducking, I grab that leg and roll, throwing myself on top of Iron Hoof, pinning him to the ground, glaring into his eyes.

“You brought death and misery to millions, all to make yourself feel better!”

Iron Hoof shrieks with uncontrollable rage, and it takes all my strength to hold him down. But I’m winning. I realized what Iron Hoof’s weakness is: it’s his family. He adored them beyond measure, sacrificing everything he had to try and save them. I gambled that, deep down, he knows his loved ones would be horrified at how he’s acted, and that he’s spent years burying that knowledge in the name of doing what he thought was right. And I gambled well: Behind Iron Hoof’s fury, behind his desire to pound me into a bloody mess of bone and torn flesh, I see him fighting against the truth, trying to shove it into a dark place where he won’t have to face it. But the truth won’t go away. He can’t stop it.

He’s breaking.

My charm pours through me, stronger than it’s ever been as I force it onto Iron Hoof, battering down what few defenses he has left. “You call your enemies parasites, creatures who take but never give. A parasite thinks only of itself, Iron Hoof. It never thinks about the feelings of others. It doesn’t care about the pain it inflicts, or the lives it ruins.”

I lean in close and speak the truth.

“You are a parasite, Iron Hoof, and if your family could see you now, they would be disgusted.”

I see the moment Iron Hoof’s rage cracks. I see his defenses shatter, sliding off him like caked-on mud before the first spring rain. He shakes his head, his lips quivering, trying to deny it, to say I’m wrong, but he can’t.

He can’t deny the truth.

Iron Hoof shakes. Decades of excuses and delusion fall away, and the truth grows worse with each layer that’s gone.

And then, before my eyes... Iron Hoof begins to cry. He goes limp, sobbing, all the fight gone from him.

I look down at my enemy. He’s defenseless. I could kill him here and end his threat for good. And after all he’s done, he deserves it. Iron Hoof may have been Mangus’ puppet, but he chose to ruin our world.

Iron Hoof doesn’t see me rearing back for the final blow, the pistons in my armor readying for the blow that will crush his head and end his life...

But what would Celestia do?

No! No, not now! The last time I hesitated like this, my parents were murdered. I have to stop him. I have to destroy him and Mangus!

Is that what Celestia would do?

Iron Hoof is in no shape to fight. He’s broken. Mangus never broke. He’s never had any remorse for the evil he’s done. Even now, old and in a failing body, he still chooses to embrace evil without regret. But I see Iron Hoof’s regret. I see the grief, the tears, the realization of all the evil he’s committed.

If Iron Hoof can realize that he’s done evil... then maybe he can change.

Maybe he can make his way back.

I lower my hoof.

“You have done great evil, Iron Hoof,” I say.

Iron Hoof breaks into a new wave of sobs.

“But now you can make it right.”

He looks to me, confused.

“If you want to atone for what you’ve done, Iron Hoof, if you want to make things right, then stop this.” I point to the magic shooting out of the dome. “Stop the destruction of our world and everyone on it!”

Spike roars in agony as a giant claw slices into his belly.

Iron Hoof looks to me, then to the conduit, and then once again to me.

“If your family were here,” I say softly, “what would they want you to do?”

I wait.

For the longest minute, Iron Hoof thinks.

He reaches to his ear and activates his headset, taking a deep breath as he fights to steady his voice. “Attention all troops: This is Iron Hoof... Stand down. I repeat, stand down!”

I hear a voice coming over the speaker. “Sir?!”

“Mangus Bluehorn has betrayed and manipulated us, and now seeks to destroy our planet!” Iron Hoof bites his lip. “All forces, fire on the spire! Destroy it!”

Spike howls again as Black Fang’s teeth sink into his neck.

Hissing, fighting to rise through his tears, Iron Hoof gets to his hooves, looking to the conduit above us, and the spell shooting into the night sky. Iron Hoof is in no shape to fight, but an inner fire’s been lit, driving him to act when all is lost.

“We have to destroy that conduit,” Iron Hoof says. He yanks off one of his guns and gives it to me. It’s some sort of miniature rocket launcher. It can’t hold many shells, but they’re likely to inflict heavy damage against whatever they hit.

“I will distract Mangus,” Iron Hoof says. “No matter what happens, Silverspeak, you must destroy that conduit.”

Taking a deep breath, Iron Hoof brings up another gun and runs out from the pillar, firing everything he's got.

Rockets slam into Black Fang’s head. Roaring in confusion, he glances down and sees Iron Hoof.

Running to the edge of a pillar, I raise the launcher and take aim.

Roaring, Mangus swings Black Fang’s tail, trying to crush his onetime ally. It slams down hard, and I’m thrown off my hooves, the launcher flying from my grasp and sliding across the chamber!

No!

Leaping up, I run after the launcher as fast as I can.

Spike unleashes his most ferocious attack yet, raking Black Fang’s belly, and then slicing his throat open with a flurry of strikes, blood gushing out as Spike rams Mangus into the floor, demolishing several pillars.

Howling, Black Fang’s rear legs slam into Spike and shove with all their might, throwing the green and purple dragon off. Spike tries to recover, but he hits the broken wall where he forced his way in and falls out, roaring in fury as he vanishes into the night sky.

Mangus is quick to rise, turning towards Iron Hoof, eager to crush him like a bug and be rid of him, but a rocket flies into a wound on Black Fang’s throat and explodes, nearly decapitating the dragon.

Iron Hoof runs forward, firing again and again, tearing Black Fang’s face apart, roaring in defiance, screaming as he tries to kill the pony who was never interested in him or his dreams.

Then the barrage is stopped as Black Fang’s hand snatches Iron Hoof from the floor.

Iron Hoof struggles, crying out in pain and rage as he’s lifted up.

Mangus emerges from Black Fang’s head. “Fascinating, isn’t it?” He growls, “how quickly we turn against our friends.”

“You’re... no... friend... of... mine...” Iron Hoof gasps.

“No, I suppose not.”

Throwing myself onto the floor, I finally grab the rocket launcher. Rolling over, I take aim at the conduit, forcing my eyes open against the searing, blinding light.

I fire.

A rocket shoots across the chamber and slams into the conduit with a thunderous blast.

Mangus spins towards me, horrified at seeing me firing upon his beloved contraption. “NO!”

I fire again, and the conduit buckles.

Mangus lunges for me, only to stumble as Iron Hoof, managing to wiggle one leg free, fires his rocket launcher, blowing Black Fang’s face apart.

Iron Hoof screams in defiance as Mangus clenches his hand, crushing Iron Hoof into bloody pulp.

I have no time to mourn Iron Hoof as I take aim once again. I have only one more shot.

Celestia, guide my shot.

Black Fang’s body leaps at me.

I fire.

The rocket shoots through the air and slams into the conduit.

I hear an explosion. I hear Mangus scream in rage. I hear the spell – no longer constrained by the machinery – as it erupts. And then I’m flying as a shockwave blasts me across the chamber, the blast demolishing walls, pillars, anything it touches. And then I’m no longer inside the dome, but plunging through the brutally cold air. And then Black Fang’s body is thrown from the dome with such force that two of his legs and one of his wings are ripped off, leaving him to tumble and spin helplessly.

Above us all, the steam of magic flowing from the spire continues shooting into the heavens, curving away from us and around the planet.

It flickers, sputters, and dies, fading from sight.

The spell’s been broken!

The spire continues flying up, reaching what has to be the edges of Equestria’s atmosphere. But then it slows. It stops.

It falls.

And then I’m falling, too. So is Black Fang, spinning helplessly as we plunge towards the planet below. I spin, gasping as I try to breathe.

Cold... it’s so cold!

I plunge towards Equestria, falling like a brick, shooting through enormous storm clouds, gasping as I finally take in air. And then I break through the clouds, right above a desolate, dead landscape, and the peaks of a mountain range.

Black Fang’s body plunges past me, and slams into the mountain range, exploding into a fountain of blood and gore.

The spire falls past me, and it, too, slams into the mountains, destroying them. Yet, it doesn’t break, rolling down after Black Fang, magic holding it together as it kicks up an avalanche of ash, soot, and dust.

Spreading my wings, I shoot past the mountains, narrowly avoiding them as I race towards the ground. But I’m going too fast! The ground’s coming up, and I can’t stop or pull up!

I’m going to hit!

Shrieking, I tighten my wings, trying to slow myself-

There’s no pain, only the incredible pressure of being hit by an unmovable surface. I spin, rocks tearing into my skin, my cheeks.

I scream.

Then, finally, I slow.

I stop.

Everything goes silent.