The sleep was not dreamless. Rarity found herself alone, drifting in blackness. It should have been peaceful, except that this was not neutral darkness. It was warm, alive- -and there were THINGS in it.

“No,” she said, struggling against the void around her. “Please no…I don’t want to die…she still needs me…”

From the darkness, a pair of turquoise eyes opened. Their pupils quickly narrowed as their owner looked at Rarity- -or into her. No other part of the face was visible. Just those horrible eyes.

“Dark…Darknight?”

There was no response. They were his eyes, though, but they were also not. Whoever it was that they belonged to remained perfectly silent, although Rarity could see the glimmer of thought passing behind those strange eyes. Consideration, perhaps, but more like cold, calculating analysis.

Then the eyes closed. Their owner was still there, but had departed. For the time being.

Rarity shot awake, confused and unclear of where she was. She had an impression that she said something, although she was not sure what exactly what or what those words might have meant. This state of dissociation might have continued had Rarity not locked eyes with those of another pony. The presence of a navy blue unicorn with short-cut blue hair immediately snapped her back to reality.

“Darknight?”

“No.” The difference in tone was incredibly subtle, but Rarity had the immediate impression that she was speaking to a mare. “My name is Darkblood. I was originally created to serve as a medic for canon ponies. My programing is the equivalent of one of your medical degrees.”

“You’re a doctor.”

She shook her head. “I am a noncan. I am a machine that performs medical tasks.”

Rarity looked around the room. For the first time she noticed that the Dark unit standing beside her was wearing a uniform- -if it could be called that- -consisting of a battered vest and a band around one of her front legs indicating her status as a medic.

The room surrounding them was small and cramped, with pipes protruding from the ceiling and no apparent windows. Several cots had been set up, but none of the others were occupied.

“Darknight,” she said, suddenly remembering what had happened. “My friend, Darknight, is he- -”

“I do not currently know,” said Darkblood, momentarily breaking her neutral demeaned to seem genuinely concerned. “But the remains we recovered were viable. The technicians are currently working on reassembly. I am not approved for use with noncans, so I cannot suggest his status.”

“But he is alive.”

The noncan hesitated. “As far as I am aware. And we are doing everything in our power to complete reassembly.” Rarity breathed a long sigh of partial relief, but Darkblood continued to eye her strangely. “It is something of a miracle, actually.”

“That he is alive?”

“That he was viable. The injuries he sustained were beyond anything that any known Dark series has withstood. Of course…”

“What?”

Darkblood considered for a moment, then shook her head. “A speculation, nothing more. Your biology is likewise unique.”

“My biology? I’m afraid you must be mistaken. I’m just an ordinary unicorn.”

“And yet your cells replicate at an unprecedented rate without sustaining any genetic loss.”

“And that means, what, exactly? For an ordinary pony with…cells…”

“It means that you might very well be immortal.” She paused. “No. Immortality is not the correct term. Eternal youth is more accurate.”

“You mean…”

“That you could be beautiful for all centuries. Or millennia. I don’t know. I’m designed to put organs back in when they’ve come out, not to study xenobiology.”

Rarity pulled back the sheets that covered her. For a moment, she panicked; her armor had been removed, and she hardly recognized herself without it. Then she saw it folded neatly behind her, and saw that her body was perfect, smooth, and white. She had no wounds or injuries of any kind.

“Immortality…”

“No. You can still die. And you should have.” Darkblood leaned closer. “Tell me, Watcher Rarity. That is your name?”

Rarity nodded.

“You passed through a Chaos teleport without a Priestess or a processor unit?”

“It was either that or be captured. And I simply cannot see myself in prison fatigues.”

“The Enemy would not have sent you to prison. What you did was incredibly foolish. Yet, somehow, you both arrived whole and sane. To this location.” Her eyes shimmered. “The will of the Madgod must truly be with you. He chose well indeed when he selected you both.”

“And where exactly is ‘this location’?”

The noncan looked at her for a moment, and then stepped away, reaching for a white jacket on a hook near the door. “Wear this,” she said.

“Why?” said Rarity, stepping out of bed and taking the coat.

“Because our physiology allows us to withstand temperatures that you may find uncomfortable. It is cold in the rest of the factory.”

“Factory?”

Darkblood only nodded, and Rarity slid the jacket on. It was clean and warm, with a fringe of artificial fur near the neck that would have been highly fashionable three years ago. It was also oddly tight. Rarity looked down to see that her body was surprisingly muscular. She paused for a moment to let out some of the seams and reconfigure them to suite her figure better.

“It will do,” she said, pausing to look at herself in a broken mirror. “Where did you get it, might I ask?”

“One of them left it when they abandoned us.”

Darkblood turned the handle on the heavy door near her, and slid it open. As soon as Rarity felt the air from the far side of the room, she pulled the rim of the jacket tighter around her neck and wished that she was also in possession of a fashionable scarf. It was, indeed, cold outside.

“This way.”

Rarity followed, although not quickly. Physically, her health was excellent. Her body had fully repaired itself from any form of injury. Her mind, though, was straining to comprehend and organize the information that filled it. She felt agitated and confused, and although Darkblood seemed nice enough, her physical and behavioral similarity to Darknight was unnerving.

The room led to a metal catwalk, and Darkblood immediately turned left to descend a set of metal-grate stairs. Rarity paused to look out at what surrounded her, although she could not see much. Barely four meters across from her was what seemed to be a wall of machinery, consisting of numerous pipes and conduits that together made up some part of a vast machine. They were all accessible by various catwalks and stairs, as was the side that Rarity was on. Her side, though, seemed to consist of several rooms and offices.

“What is this place?” asked Rarity as she began down the stairs after Darkblood.

“Support infrastructure, primarily. Water purification and the main reactor. Most of us reside in this section.”

“Section of what? You know very well what I’m asking. I don’t mean to be rude, but I would greatly appreciate a straight answer.”

Darkblood looked over her shoulder. “Fine. This is Factory Seven.”

“I would hardly call that a straight answer.”

“And I would hardly call that giving me enough time to explain.”

Rarity blushed, somewhat embarrassed. “My apologies. Go ahead, dear.”

“Factory Seven, owned by Obscure Spectrum Limited. This is the factory where the Dark series noncans are constructed.”

Rarity blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. This is the place where all Dark units are born. Our forces were driven back from the main areas of Equestria, but we managed to take our ancestral home through great sacrifice. It is the last fortification of those who serve the Madgod. Our last bastion against the Enemy.”

By this time, they had reached the concrete floor below. Rarity looked up around her to see a number of faces staring back at her, both from the wide path and from the machinery above where they either stood waiting or had constructed makeshift dwellings. Every one stared back with the same eyes, and the same face. There must have been hundreds of them, and they were all staring at Rarity with a mix of suspicion and awe.

“Why are they looking at me like that?”

“Because you are one of the last chosen soldiers of the Madgod...but you are also an outsider. One not of us. Forgive us if that makes us somewhat distrustful of your intentions.”

“I don’t mean to cause offense. I do not want to hurt anypony.”

“We know that. It is why you are still alive.”

Rarity felt her heart sink as she became even more nervous about her situation. She fell silent, and instead of speaking directed her attention to the ponies around her. Many of them were still wearing what was left of their unlaw armor, which was now broken and dirty from many battles. Others had taken armor from other sources, or done their best to repair what they had with metal and ballistic plastic that they could find.

At the same time, she noticed that many of them showed signs of injury. They were bandaged, or walked with signs of great pain. A few were obviously missing at least one eye, and one was missing a rear leg.

“They’re injured,” said Rarity, turning to Darkblood. “But I thought noncans could be repaired.”

“We can. But our supply of spare parts is extremely low. The defective units kill us in a way that renders our pieces useless most of the time.”

“You mean the Stonies?”

All of the Dark units within earshot murmured. Darkblood turned to Rarity. “We avoid speaking that name here. They do not deserve a name. They have spit on everything that gave us honor as noncans, and contaminated the rest of our kind with their filth. They claim ‘freedom’ and yet make themselves slave to the Enemy. They are hated a great deal here.”

“I didn’t realize.” Rarity looked out at them. “But then…Darknight…”

“Several of our more substantially wounded had to be euthanized to provide the necessary components.”

“N…no. You’re joking. You must be joking.”

“About my beloved brothers sacrificing their lives and bodies to preserve the life of a servant of the Madgod? That is not something I would joke about, Watcher Rarity. Do you think he is not worth it?”

“That certainly isn’t what I meant to imply.”

“Whether you meant it or not, you did. And we strongly disagree. Universally. Night of Series Dark is unique among us, beyond a concept in nature. He, like you, is one of the few chosen. And you are both the last to be chosen by the living Madgod. His survival is imperative to ours.”

“Frankly I don’t care about any of that!” snapped Rarity. “Darknight is my friend! I just…I feel so very useless right now. The very thought of ponies that could be so generous…and what can I do?”

“You nearly died or faced utter madness to bring him to us. You do not have the fortune to die now. There is still so much work to be done.”

Rarity looked to Darkblood, and to the other Dark units that surrounded her. “What can I do?”

“Follow me,” said Darkblood. “I am only a medic. Darknexus will know far more than I.”

Rarity did as she was told. She was led through the factory complex, and the whole time she marveled at the number of Dark units. It was as though not a single one of them had turned to Celestia’s side. Even after Discord’s death, they continued to stay loyal. There was something noble about it- -but also so horribly sad.

Eventually, Rarity was led to an area where a number of Dark units had gathered in a large depression of the factory floor. Whatever equipment had once sat there had been moved and stacked to the sides, and tables had been set up in its place. These were covered with maps, charts, and whatever processing equipment could be salvaged from the factory and reconstructed into usable machines. The noncans here were dressed either in heavier armor or in tattered cloth uniforms that marked them as having once been in noncombat roles. It was apparent that many of them were concepts.

These ponies parted as Rarity approached, save for one. He was not as tall and thin as those around him, and Rarity found it odd that he- -clearly their leader, or whatever they had in place of one- -was not a concept himself. Instead, he seemed to be a normal Dark unit. Like the rest, he resembled Darknight almost perfectly, save for lines of silver in his mane and slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“I see the patient is awake,” he said in a voice that was perfectly identical to Darknight’s.

“One of them,” said Rarity.

Something glimmered in Darknexus’s eye. “Yes,” he said. “Your response is…interesting.”

“Really? Because it seems entirely appropriate to me.”

“I did not say ‘inappropriate’. I only mean that it is unusual that you group yourself in the same category as him, a Dark unit.”

There were whispers from the group. Darkblood stepped forward angrily. “That is the philosophy of the Nameless Ones,” she said. “That we are equivalent to canon ponies.”

“Yes,” said Darknexus. “Which is inherently false. For most of us. Which is why Darknight is unique. Among the Watchers, he is equally chosen as her, a canon pony. The will of the Madgod selected both, and both stand as the same type.”

There was some whispering again, although this time it sounded as though the group were in agreement with its leader.

“You keep speaking of Discord,” said Rarity. With a heavy heart, she forced herself to inform him. “We have reason to believe that he has been…well, to put it bluntly, killed.”

There was no whispering this time. Darknexus raised an eyebrow. “Really? I’m surprised.”

“That he could be killed?”

“That you thought we didn’t know.”

“What- -but- -”

“As his title implies, the Madgod is a god. A deity. If his mortal body was slain, it was of his will. Tell me, Watcher, do you really think that the death of our god can ever be complete?”

“I’ve met gods. And I’m afraid I have fought them also. And I have seen that they are mortal, just like us.”

“That is where we differ of opinion. Discord cannot ever die, even when he does. And we remain behind to carry on, to do as he wished. To create peace through war, happiness through pain, creation through destruction, order through chaos. To build the world again in his image.” He paused. “However, your words do give us hope. Because for the Madgod’s vision to be completed, two gods must yet die.”

“If you think you can fight them, you are a fool.”

“I do not think. I am a noncan. I follow orders. But no. I do not intend to defeat them. Not personally. Nor do they need to be defeated. They just need to die.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Aren’t I?”

Rarity sighed. “No, you aren’t. I would like to thank you from the very bottom of my heart for what you have done to help me and Darknight, but I’ve met Celestia. And Luna. There is no way I can fight them. Or you.”

“That isn’t entirely true,” said Darkblood. Darknexus glared at her. “I’m not going to lie to her,” she said. She turned to Rarity. “Analysis of your comrade indicated an anomaly.”

“An anomaly? What sort of anomaly?”

“It is currently unclear. A latent feature. Not genetic in origin.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that means.”

“We are all part of a series. Genetically identical. Sequenced, known. He shows an unknown feature. Something we had not identified before, and that even our creators may not have realized. A contaminant.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“No. Quite the opposite. It is likely what allowed him to survive his injuries. The parasite held his body together even when all science indicates that he should have lost viability.”

Rarity inhaled sharply. The parasite. She knew what they were talking about.

“Even more interesting,” said Darknexus, “is that there is a strong indication that we all bear an identical latent feature. Darknight was only the first among us to manifest it, but…” All of the others looked to each other, and then to him. “We have all felt…something. Something growing, somewhere. Inside us…and not. I do not know if you could understand.”

“I certainly can’t. But I saw what that…that THING did to Darknight. If you have it too, you are all in danger.”

“We are already all in danger,” said Darkblood. “The Enemy has determined us to be obsolete. We are slated for violent euthanasia. Every single one of us.”

The room fell silent, but one noncan pushed past the others. She was a tall concept, dressed in a cloth uniform that had been crudely modified to fit her larger and more slender size. She was carrying a not in her mouth. When she reached the center of the circle, she saluted and presented the note to Darknexus. Darknexus returned the salute and took the note, unfolding it with his magic. His turquoise eyes scanned it for a moment, and then he looked up.

“It is as report on the status of the Dark Watcher.”

The drop of a pin could have been heard as the entire room waited, each holding their breath. None of them were as nervous as Rarity, though. She did not know what she would do if the news was what she feared.

“The reconstruction was a success. Neurological function is at ninety seven percent, and all of his internal systems are intact.”

There was a collective sigh of relief, and Darknexus set the page down on the table nearest to him. He stepped forward. “Come,” he said to Rarity. “I can see that you are anxious to see him. As am I. Darkblood and Dark Concept Six may accompany us if they wish.”

Darkblood stepped forward, as did the tall concept who had delivered the letter. Rarity was unsure of the sex of the latter, but assumed male. The look in his eyes was that of a young colt; he seemed to be incredibly surprised that he had been allowed to join Darknexus and Rarity.

Darknexus led them deeper into the factory, toward a large door. Two heavily armed Dark units were guarding it, and on his approached they opened it. The sound was surprisingly loud as it clanked to the side, as if many mechanisms had to be disengaged to unlock it. Once it was open, the group stepped into a large cylindrical room. The door closed behind them, leaving them in the dark.

Rarity lit her horn, but it was unnecessary. Several violet lights flickered on in the sides of the room, and there was a hiss from apertures on the wall. Rarity, expecting to be gassed, held her breath, but nothing came out.

“We have no more decontamination gas,” said Concept Six. His voice was identical to the others, but somehow sounded childlike.

“It doesn’t matter. This wing is already empty. If we have any left, we need it in the locks around the zones that are still functional. We can’t risk contaminating the few that we have left, or the sterile chambers.”

There was a sudden mechanical sound, and the second door opened. Darknexus led them forward out of the airlock and into a tall, narrow hallway. Rarity blinked in the light from the artificial lights mounted on the walls and suddenly realized that she had been here before. The walls were lined with machines connected to large, egg-like glass pods.

“What is this place?” she demanded.

“A production floor. It’s abandoned now.” Darknexus pointed up at the containers. “Those are amniotic jars. Wombs, if you prefer to think of them that way. Each and every one of us was created in one. Every noncan was.”

Rarity looked up at the glass containers. Nearly all of them were empty, although a few were filled with a turbid, dark, sickly looking yellow fluid.

“Why are they empty?”

“Because every Dark unit in this wing has been born already,” said Darkblood. She looked to one of the fluid-filled containers. “Or failed when the operators abandoned the facility.”

“Why did they leave?”

“They were afraid,” said Concept Six.

“He is not incorrect,” said Darknexus. “The world ended. Being a canon pony suddenly became so very dangerous. Why stay here? Their products are not worth more than their lives.” He looked over his shoulder. “When we took the factory, we found Concept Six in the special productions wing. He had been grown to term, but his programming had never been completed.”

Rarity turned to the tall concept noncan. “They just left you there?”

“I don’t…I don’t remember…” He looked at Darknexus. “Just, there. Not moving. Then I woke up. I was all wet. And the others were there. And they looked like me. They still do.”

“Is the factory still active?”

They all looked at Rarity. “Yes,” said Darknexus. “This is the last place where our kind can be born. Of course it is still active. If this factory dies, so do we.”

They moved deeper in the factory until they reached an area that had individual rooms. Darknexus picked one and led them in to a large room filled with versions of equipment similar to the type that Rarity had seen in the Watcher’s base before the Stonies had overtaken it. The room was also occupied by several beds, all of which were stained with dark fluid and several of which were occupied by individuals covered completely with sheets.

Several ponies in heavy white coats were also present- -as well as one who was not.

“Darknight!” cried Rarity, running forward toward him. She pushed through the technicians and wrapped him in a hug. Only when she was that close did she see the scars that ran across his body where new pieces had been installed.

“What- -what is this?” she demanded, turning to the technicians. “Why are there scars on him?”

One of the technicians removed his face mask. “Our programing designates us as medics,” he said. “We do not know how to do any better. It is beyond us.”

“They saved my life,” said Darknight, his new trachea sounding hoarse and raw. “Slight modifications to my physical appearance are irrelevant.” He released Rarity and took a shaky step forward. It was apparent that their success at reattaching his nerves had also been mediocre. More frighteningly, though, Rarity noticed something else that had changed.

“Darknight! Your flank!”

Darknight turned his head slowly and looked. His own eyes widened when he saw the black stain that remained there. “I see,” he said.

Darknexus stepped forward. “Darknight. Do you know who I am?”

Darknight looked at him for a moment. “Yes. You are Darknexus.”

“I am honored that you would recognize my face.”

“It would be difficult not to. You are the oldest among us.”

“Really?” said Rarity.

Darknexus nodded. “I am thirteen years old,” he said. “Most Dark units are retired at ten when our function begins to decrease. I was owned by a private investigation firm. They found my experience valuable, and allowed me to live longer.”

“He is something of a legend,” said Darknight.

“Or, rather, my legend is,” said Darknexus. He looked at Darknight, and at the stain on his flank.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” said Darknight.

“We have a strong interest in what exactly that is,” said Darknexus.

Darknight looked at it. “I don’t know.”

“At the Gala,” said Rarity, “something happened. You changed.”

A look of recognition crossed Darknight’s face. “Yes,” he said. “I know.”

“You tried to kill me.”

They all looked at Rarity. Concept Six seemed astounded, but Darknexus seemed both knowing and disappointed.

“I…I did,” said Darknight.

“Why?”

Darknight shook his head. “I don’t know. I just…I don’t know. I felt something…from outside.”

“We all feel it,” said Darkblood. “At the edge of our minds. Waiting.”

“I guess…I guess I felt it for some time. When I was there, it got stronger. I could feel it. Wanting to come inside. And then…” He turned to Rarity. “I saw you. In danger. I had to save you, but I couldn’t do it myself. I wasn’t strong enough. So I let it in.”

“And you experienced a negative reaction,” noted Darknexus.

Darknight nodded. “I don’t remember it…but I remember that it was so clear. Everything made sense. I just wasn’t…me. It was somewhat traumatizing.”

“Well, you are safe now,” said Rarity, putting her hoof on his shoulder. “This is your factory, isn’t it? Where you were born?”

Darknight looked around. “Yes,” he said, a thin smile crossing his face. “Yes it is.” He suddenly seemed gravely concerned. “But why are we here? We shouldn’t be here…”

Darknexus stepped forward. “There are some things I will need to explain to you. I am afraid that few of them will be pleasant.”

They walked through the factory, back to the living floor. Darknexus did indeed explain, and the look of concern on Darknight’s face grew with every word. Once again, Rarity felt helpless. She wished she could do something to help him, but she had no idea what could help.

As they walked, a crowd began to gather. Now not only was Rarity present, but as was Darknight- -their brother, and something more. He was like a concept, but not one chosen by their creators but by their god.

At one point, a group of noncans burst through the crowd. Rarity looked down, at first not especially concerned with them. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she saw Darknight’s eyes widen in absolute surprise when he saw the group of fillies and colts emerge from the crowd.

Darknight looked to Darknexus. “Children,” he said. Indeed, he was correct. They looked just like him, save for the scars and the black stain. They were just in miniature, with wide, innocent eyes that looked up at him and Rarity with awe. “These…these are children.”

Darknexus nodded solemnly. “Last week, we lost core power in one of the sectors. We could not restore it in time. We had to remove them early.”

“That shouldn’t be possible.”

“It apparently is. Their programming is almost nonexistent. We will have to install everything manually. We are currently working on acquiring a Lee unit to educate them.” He sighed. “And that is the crux of our problem.”

“What do you mean?” said Rarity, feeling the dread in his voice. “You- -you do know how to keep the factory running, don’t you?”

Darknexus looked at her, and then shook his head. “We were a series designed for use as soldiers. Unlaw enforcement officers, private guards, mercenaries. We’re not scientists. We are not engineers. We don’t know what we’re doing. We are learning, but not fast enough.”

“No. No, it’s the factory, it can’t- -”

Darknexus put his hoof on Darknight’s shoulder. “We cannot operate the factory. All we can hope for is to complete the programming of the units we have and let them be born, but even that is taxing our abilities. Many of us will die. And once the factory is gone, no more of us can be made.”

Darknight looked at him. “Then we need to find a new factory.”

“Our factory is unique to us. No other factory can produce Dark units.”

“That is not true.”

Darknexus raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying, Darknight?”

Darknight looked at Rarity, and then at Darknexus as though he had some horrible secret. “I spoke with a pony at the Gala. A Stonie unit.”

“You know they are liars,” said Darkblood, harshly.

“Not her,” said Darknight, shaking his head. “She was unique among them. A custom unit.”

A memory flashed into Rarity’s mind. “I remember her!” she cried, perhaps too loudly. “She was the one who helped us escape!”

“Why would one of the Nameless Ones do that?” asked Darkblood in disbelief.

“Because she is not one of them,” said Darknight. “She is something else. A piece of Xyuka that was left behind…and something else. But she told me what we are.”

“We are machines. Created to serve the Madgod.”

“No. We are clones.”

The crowd looked to Darknight, enraptured by his revelation.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Darknexus.

“We are derived from an ancient lineage. A piece of genetic material taken from a single individual. This factory must contain a piece, a template. If we could take another factory…”

“We could install the template and make more of ourselves.”

“Assuming this is true,” snapped Darkblood. “What you are saying is ridiculous. Clones? Of what?”

“Of…” Darknight paused, as if the truth pained him. “We are clones of the son of Princess Luna.”

Rarity gasped, and the crowd began speaking. Many did not seem to believe him. Darknexus, though, appeared to remain open to the idea. “Are you aware of the implications of what you are saying?”

“I am,” said Darknight.

“I’m not,” said Concept Six. He turned to Rarity. “Are you?”

“No,” said Rarity. “But if you are copies of a pony…”

“Then it means that we are ponies,” said Darknight.

“Heresy!” cried Darkblood. “We are machines, nothing more! You were supposed to be our hero, and now you stand here, spitting the propaganda of those that betrayed our kind!”

“Darkblood,” said Darknexus, sternly. “If you won’t control yourself, go back to your room.” He turned to Darknight. “Although I do not believe you.”

“But how would you know if it is true? If our programming is even correct?”

“Because of course it is correct.”

“Why?” asked Concept Six. All of the ponies nearby turned to him. “It’s just code in my head. Memories of things that I don’t remember. None of it’s real, right?”

They stared in confusion and horror. “His programming isn’t complete,” said Darknight at last. “They haven’t forced him to believe it yet. To obey.”

Darknexus turned sharply to Darknight. Now he too showed his anger. “Then what would you have us do? Forsake the Madgod, and join our Enemy?”

“It is not a binary decision! You can do neither! We can make our own choices, live as ponies. We do not need Celestia, but we do not need to sacrifice ourselves either. We can live as ourselves.”

The Dark units looked to each other, and spoke among themselves. Darknexus stared into Darknight’s eyes. “That may be true. For you,” he said. “You are a Watcher. Unique, and different. But we do not have that capacity. We can only follow orders. The last orders of our last master were ambiguous, and we can interpret them, but we are not like you. We cannot make independent thoughts. None of us can reach the conclusion you have.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you have transcended us.”

“He’s not wrong,” said Rarity. The group suddenly turned to her, clearly not thrilled to have an outsider speaking on such sensitive matters. “If you try to fight this war, you will die. All of you, and your kind.” She put her hoof on the head of one of the little fillies. “Even them. They could have lives- -”

“No,” said Darkblood. “They could not. Not in this world.”

“I agree,” said Darknight.

“Darknight!”

“I need…I need to think,” he said. “Permission to be excused?”

“You do not need to ask me for permission,” said Darknexus. “You are one chosen by the Madgod. You do as you need to.”

“Thank you.”

He began to walk away, leaving the group identical ponies behind.

“You ought to go too,” said Darknexus, speaking to Rarity. “He may have thought, but he is still so new. You are a young mare, but you still know so much more than any of us. Let him help you. Not the other way around.”

Rarity nodded, and left the group, following her comrade all alone. )���3�