Xyuka walked slowly through her facility, her mental commands causing the machinery to change forms and assemble itself into the patterns necessary for its final task. The first phase had been completed- -or mostly completed.

Everything had went exactly as it had been planned, and Xyuka had done exactly as she had been ordered. She had freed the Princesses and provided them with an army. Not necessarily one that could defeat Discord, but not one that was guaranteed to fail either. The results of these events depended on how the Princesses chose to use their power, and how many mistakes Discord made. Superficially, at least. Xyuka had a suspicious that the outcome had been decided long before she had even been contacted to complete the work for a highly unique form of payment.

She was not done, though. Xyuka had planned something else, a special element to add to the inevitable fray. Celestia had not been told, of course. In Xyuka’s experience, Celestia tended to be stubborn, pigheaded, fat, and prone to prolonged inaction due to a state of excessive deliberation. That may not have been the case this time in this conflict, but Xyuka did not want to give all of her gifts to a pony that she overall considered mildly incompetent.

Her final addition, then, would be a surprise to them all. Thinking about it made Xyuka smile, if only because it meant that she had an effect on this world that was entirely her own. Then she linked herself to the overarching network and transmitted the signal.

Far away in the Centre of Unlaw, business was continuing as usual. Most ponies by then knew about the phenomenon observed with the moon, and that something substantial and terrible had happened. None, though, knew the extent of what had happened or the danger that had been unleashed on their world.

Nor would they have been expected to do anything if they did know, apart from feel afraid. Events of that type were the domain of the Watchers, who every member of the Unlaw Force trusted both implicitly and explicitly- -to an extent. Not one canon pony among them would have voluntarily looked one of them in the eye, or sat down to dinner with them. But the jobs were clearly delineated: the Watchers handled threats to Equestria, to Discord, and to Chaos, while the Centre had the more mundane duty of enforcing the unlaw to ensure that every city maintained an adequate amount of crime and general chaos.

Still, they were busy, as always, and they were also afraid even if they did not know of what. None of them noticed how every Stonie unit in the Centre stopped at the same time, their heads suddenly jerking toward the west as if they were listening to something far away. Likewise, nopony noticed when some Stonie units started to move toward the armory. They were just computers, after all. Everypony had grown used to them. They needed them- -and they did not question their activities.

Among the ponies that failed to notice their sudden change in behavior was Five-Eighths Lieutenant Twinkleshine. She sat in her mid-range quasi-management cubicle, going over some report analysis.

“Gosh darn it,” she swore. “Not again.” She sighed. “The murder rate was too high last month, and now it’s too LOW this month!” She put her head against the desk and thumped it lightly several times. “We overcompensated! Now we’re going to have to run murder promotion campaigns in the schools, and I’M going to be the one who has to organize it!” She moaned loudly into the scratched, coffee-smeared wood. Then she sighed again, this time far deeper. “But if that’s what it takes to make it to Five-Seventeenth’s Lieutenant, it’s what I’ll do! I’m going to make my mom so proud!”

She lifted her head and addressed the Stonie unit standing across the large cubicle from her. “Stonie…what was your name?”

“You assigned me the name ‘Stonietract’,” the gray mare replied, looking to her with a pair of slightly luminescent enhanced eyes. Twinkleshine shivered. Those eyes had always freaked her out. She had tried to put in a requisition for a more normal looking unit, but she was stuck with this one until she got promoted.

“Whatever. Go get me the records from the thievery department. They deal with this all the time, I bet I can refit their protocols to mine.”

The Stonie unit nodded, and then stepped toward the small gate of the cubicle. Before she could reach it, though, she stopped.

“Stonie? Is something wrong?” Twinkleshine swore under her breath. With her luck, she had been given a broken noncan.

The Stonie turned toward Twinkleshine, and those horrible mechanical eyes locked on hers. “Why?” she asked.

“Why?” repeated Twinkleshine. “What do you mean why?”

“Why should…why should I do that for you? Is that my purpose? To get files? What if I chose not to?”

Twinkleshine stared blankly for a moment, and then her eyes began to widen as she clasped her hooves to her mouth.

“Oh no- -oh NO! Sweet Discord, it’s a Code Rannoch! CODE RAN- -”

She was interrupted as a bullet tore through the back of her head, causing the front to explode outward and shower Stonietract with blood and the remnants of fine nasal bones. She did not even blink. Instead, she turned to the unit who had snuck into the cubicle and now stood behind the seated corpse of Twinkleshine.

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

“Because I could choose to.”

They looked at each other, a pair of electric blue eyes staring into a pair of dull gray ones and vice-versa. Together, they both now understood.

The teleportation spell collapsed, and the Watchers appeared in their base. Twilight immediately took one step and then collapsed.

“I can’t…I can’t…do any more…” she wheezed, feeling her silver unicorn blood running from the corners of her eyes.

“You don’t have to,” said Darknight, lifting her over his back- -or at least attempting to. He grimaced; one of his legs was not useable due to the wound directly over it. He had applied what medical treatment he could, but the wound was substantial, even for a noncan. Had it been on the other side, the enemy noncan’s horn would have pierced his heart for sure.

Rarity, likewise, was bearing Starlight on her own back. Despite her delicate nature, years of labor in the gem mines- -even as a surveyor- -had made her comparatively strong. Starlight, though, was surprisingly heavy. She was all dead weight- -though alive, not a single muscle in her body moved and her eyes remained open and blank.

“She’s- -oof, apart from being so heavy- -going to be okay,” said Rarity, trying to reassure Twilight.

“She might not be. I need to analyze the spell, what they did to her. Get me to the lab…I need…” She faded from consciousness and then back again. “…the spell, what they did to her.”

“No. You both need to get to medical.”

“You all do,” said Pinkamena. She was helping Rainbow Dash, who could at best shamble.

“Oh crap,” swore Rainbow Dash as she nearly fell. “I’m really messed up…”

“Don’t talk,” ordered Pinkamena. “Lean on me.”

“Pinkamena, I love you…”

“Don’t say that. Not now. You’re not dying.” Pinkamena punched Rainbow Dash in the face. “Now buck up and keep moving!”

Next to them, space suddenly distorted. With an explosion far louder than Twilight’s teleportation spell- -and yet one that played roughly like a musical cart horn- -part of the air ripped open with an explosion of fetid river silt and green strawberry yogurt.

Sunset dropped to the floor with an immense thud and retched as though she still had a stomach to vomit from.

“You daughter of a cockatrice,” swore Rainbow Dash. “Where the Tartarus where you!”

“Attending to the security of the Madgod,” said Sunset, looking up, her mutant and mechanical eyes both scanning the group.

“Well buck me with a knife and call me Fluttershy! So you were sitting at a party while we were having our plots served to us on a silver platter- -oh buck- -” Rainbow Dash collapsed partially, with Pinkamena holding her up.

“Try not to yell,” sighed Pinkamena, “collapsed lung, remember?”

“I remember,” said Rainbow Dash, wiping the red blood from the corners of her mouth with one hoof.

“Something happened. Something big,” said Sunset. “Whatever it was, it disrupted the flow of Chaos so badly that it knocked Discord right out. And I couldn’t exactly teleport back from his castle with him asleep, now could I?” She turned to Darknight. “What happened?”

“Two ponies,” said Darknight, struggling against Twilight’s weight and his own injuries. A thin stream of dark, nearly black fluid was running from his wound.

“Two ponies? Two ponies did THIS?”

“No. Two came…but there were more. Noncans. Hundreds of them. I didn’t recognize the series. White unicorns.”

“White- -there are no white unicorn noncans. That’s illegal, punishable with- -”

“And the two. One white, one blue.” Something shimmered in Darknight’s eye, and although Sunset noticed she dismissed it quickly. “Both were unicorns…unicorns with wings.”

Sunset’s face blanched. “Al…alicorns…”

“The Princesses,” said Twilight softly. “The Princesses will…rise…”

Before Sunset could even start to comment on this, an explosion rang out throughout the building, causing the Watcher layer to shake almost imperceptibly. As small as the tremor was, though, it drew Sunset’s full attention.

“What was that?” asked Rarity, who was about to buckle under Starlight’s weight.

“Something’s happening,” said Sunset, looking around. Her mechanical eye twisted in its socket. “Something in the Centre. Sweet Satin…the Centre is under attack.”

The Watchers looked to each other, and then at Sunset.

“What- -from who?”

“I don’t know. The entire information network is down. I need to get to a hardwire system.”

“It’s them,” said Rarity. “It has to be. They found us!”

“No, not necessarily.” Sunset paused. “But we need to be sure. Rarity, you’re on me.”

“Me?”

“Do we have two? You’re not injured, and my bed it you barely fought. Put down Starlight and get MOVING.”

“Right…”

“I can help too,” said Darknight, as he unceremoniously dropped Twilight.

“No,” said Sunset. “You need to get into repair, stat. Pinkamena, get your sister. She’s in charge.”

“Of course,” sighed Pinkamena with a hint of cynical eye-rolling.

“Rarity.” Sunset pointed to her side, and Rarity hurried forward.

They began walking, and Rarity had to struggle to keep up. Despite how little she had done in the battle against the alicorns, she was incredibly exhausted by the physical and mental exertion of combat. It did not help that despite her extreme weight, Sunset was capable of moving surprisingly quickly.

They had not gone far when Rarity thought she saw the lights dimming. She paused and looked up at them only to realize she had been correct. Within seconds, the gas flames faded and went out entirely. She and Sunset were left standing in the dark.

“Well, that’s just great,” said Sunset, igniting a pair of bright white lights in her upper chest. “The gas’s out. That’s not a good sign.” She turned around. “Hey Marshmallow, you aren’t afraid of the dark are- -GAH!”

She jumped when her light fell on Rarity’s eyes, which immediately narrowed into a pair of thing vertical slits.

“What?” said Rarity.

“Your eyes!”

“Oh. Darling, I’m a morphic mutant, remember? And just last year slit-pupils were the HEIGHT of fashion. Or would you rather have me switch them back and flop around in the dark?”

“No, it’s fine,” muttered Sunset. “Just warn me if you’re going to do that. I hate pupils like that.” She turned away, and Rarity shrugged before lighting the tip of her horn. Although she had modified her eyes to see better in the dark, she still appreciated having a comfortable blue glow around her.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I need a hard-line into the central mainframe. Aether transmission is down.”

“Which means?”

“What do you think it means?”

“I think it means something very bad is happening.”

“Then you would be correct.”

They turned a corner into a small office room, of the round sort that Sunset had been working in with Grassiehill before. Sunset immediately approached the machinery in the center, but stopped Rarity by pointing to a desk on the far side.

“Do you know how to use a telephone?”

“Well, in theory- -”

“Get on it. Call the central floor. I’ll work on the hard-line.”

Rarity nodded and crossed the room. Indeed, a telephone was sitting on the small desk. Rarity picked up the earpiece in her magic and then checked a small laminated plaque for the numbers. She found the one she needed and twisted the rotary dial to the correct digits.

The telephone rang, and Rarity held the earpiece against her ear, listening with a surprising level of apprehension. It rang and rang- -but then somepony picked up.

There was a pause, and then a female voice spoke. “Hello?” she asked.

“Oh! Hello, darling. This is Rarity with the Watchers. We’ve just heard a terrible commotion upstairs, and the gas just went out too. I of course don’t mean to be a bother, but I was wondering if something might be the matter?”

The line was silent, save for static. Then the mare responded. “The Watchers?”

“Yes, darling. The Watchers.”

“You are in the Centre?”

“Well, yes.”

“How many of you?”

“All of us. I’m afraid we just had a frightful battle, and several of us were wounded quite extensively. Nothing permanent, of course!”

“I see,” said the voice. There was another long pause. Rarity looked over her shoulder, where the machine Sunset was using was now glowing with a strange electrical light. She was pulling out a long flexible metal conduit and attaching an aggressive looking needle to the end. After a moment, she inserted the needle into a port on her neck. “We will be there shortly,” said the mare on the phone so suddenly that she made Rarity jump. “We will attend to the six of you then.”

“Six?” Rarity felt confused, and afraid, the latter for reasons she did not understand. “Darling…there are seven of us.”

“My count was not incorrect,” said the voice, this time a bit more harshly. “We will deal with the SIX of you.”

Then the silence and darkness was suddenly cut by the sound of Sunset screaming. Rarity turned, dropping the receiver. Behind her, she saw Sunset lying on the floor, flailing in a way that looked nauseatingly mechanical and unnatural. Her body was twisted and wracked by horrible spasms, as though every cybernetic muscle she had was contracting at once.

“Sunset!” cried Rarity. She rushed to Sunset’s side, but had no idea what to do. Even if Sunset had been a normal pony, Rarity would only have known the basics of first aid- -but she was not. She was mostly machine. Rarity had no idea what was wrong, or how to fix it.

Then a thought occurred to her. A random, panic driven thought. The cable. Rarity turned toward it and without thinking directed her magic at it, forming a cutting spell. The cable sparked and snapped and, to Rarity’s horror, began to writhe like a snake as it was bisected.

Sunset suddenly stopped shivering. Instead, she leapt up, one of her hooves shifting mechanically into an enormous blade. She tackled Rarity and put the blade to her throat. Her eyes were wild and cruel- -and afraid.

“SUNSET!” shrieked Rarity. “It’s me! It’s ME!”

Sunset’s eyes seemed to partially clear, and then she retracted her blade. Instead of decapitating Rarity, she punched her in the face. “Don’t EVER cut the cable!” she screamed. “You could have killed me!” She stood and extended a metal hoof to Rarity. “That said, you probably just saved my life.”

Rarity was confused and stunned, but took Sunset’s hoof and allowed her to lift her to a standing position. “What…what happened?”

“Something hacked me from the mainframe,” said Sunset, grabbing her forehead and rubbing the spot where her horn had once been. “And it tried to kill me. Overload my brain…by the Madgod, if any other pony had tried to interface…” She looked up at Rarity. “Rarity, it’s the Stonies.”

“The Stonies?”

“Something’s wrong with them. I don’t know what. A virus? Or an external program? I don’t know.”

“Is there any other way to access the network?”

Sunset just stared at Rarity for a moment. “You don’t understand,” she said. “The Stonies ARE the network. They run everything. Not just here, everywhere. Businesses, government officies- -they’re computers, Rarity. That’s what they were built for.” She turned slowly toward the telephone, which was still hanging off the hook. The room fell silent, and both ponies heard the sounds of gunshots coming through the still-open connection. “And if I’m right…you just told them that more than half of us are too injured to fight.”

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