Each and every sapient being in the world experiences many different things throughout their lives. Some of those things elevate them, others bring them down to misery. And yet, it all comes down to what choices those beings make. At a particular time of day, they would want to go outside. They would go to a shop, for example. Nothing looked out of place, the day was as peaceful as all the other days. However, something very unfortunate happens — they get into a car accident. They are in the hospital now; they might not recover; they might not even survive.

If they didn't decide to go out during that particular time or to that particular place through a particular path, they wouldn't have ended up in the hospital. They would be fine if they went outside earlier or later. The actions of the unfortunate driver also took a great part in the events of that day. No matter what anyone does, it all comes down to a choice. Each and every choice affects everything — some call it the Butterfly Effect. A chain of events can be set off by something very simple. However, tracking it to its very beginning is nigh impossible. After all, if we think about it, each action is responded by a reaction. Even then, there is some luck, some randomization involved on a very basic level, one we can't see with our own eyes.

In the end, we can theorize all we want, and yet it won't change one simple but very important fact. It's an axiom that will always be true.

The world doesn't stop to wait for us.

We are in constant motion; the time never stops. We might think about what would happen if it does stop, but... We can never truly know. In fact, we might not even realize that the time stopped. Our thoughts are fluid, they are in motion. If everything stops, then our minds stop as well. Each of us has different reaction times, and yet even the fastest reaction wouldn't be able to recognize the end of time.

All we can do is move forward, choosing our path carefully. We never know when it ends.

Later that day, Sirius and Iclyn headed towards the Canterlot Castle to speak to Princess Luna about the changelings. The former human didn't leave the mansion without his sword this time, understanding that there are still some changelings left that meant harm to him. No matter how peaceful it was in Equestria, there were always dangers; anything could happen at any time. Sirius might not be able to prepare himself for such occasions, of course. However, he could still do something to minimize the possible damage. In case things went worse than he expected, he carried something else — a pouch with his revolver. Despite being somewhat heavy, slightly cumbersome, it packed a punch not many hand-held firearms provided. He remembered well how he got it.

It was not a long time after his abduction. He crawled out of his grave, and all he was met with was silence. His mother was dead, there was no one else to take care of him, to help him in his time of greatest need. Without anyone to help him, he needed to figure out how to sustain himself long enough to extract revenge on those who wronged him.

One night, he sneaked into a house. From what he knew about it, the only person living there was an old man. Harmless, quiet, he was of no danger to Stanislav. He didn't plan on killing the man, however — he merely wanted something to eat. He was sure the old man wouldn't notice a few things disappearing from the fridge. And so, a decision was made.

Unfortunately for Stanislav, he underestimated what it would take to get what he wanted. As he opened the fridge, he heard a certain metallic click behind him.

"Hands up and no surprises," a voice ordered him. Slowly and hesitantly, he obeyed. "Turn around. Slowly."

Stanislav did as commanded and was soon facing the old man. The latter was holding a silver-colored revolver of respectable size, its muzzle aimed at the young man, the barrel looking like a dark abyss, hypnotizing him.

"Oh my God..." the old man whispered, lowering his gun slightly. "How long have you not eaten?"

Stanislav tried to reply but the only thing to come out of his mouth was incoherent mumbling, almost gurgling.

"And a mute one as well..." the old man completely lowered his gun. "I see you're not one of those damn blokes... Sit, lemme do something for ya."

Perhaps, it wasn't a bad night after all. Stanislav managed to communicate with the old man by writing notes. Having nothing to lose, he laid out everything that had happened to him. In the end, he burst into tears and sobs, glad that he could tell at least someone about his dire situation.

"Holy Mother of God, son..." the old man pitied Stanislav. Then, he pushed the revolver closer to him. "I know that the police doesn't do jack shit about that sort of stuff. They'd rather catch teens smoking marijuana than deal with the real criminals," he spat in disgust. "Son..." he placed a hand on Stanislav's own. "For yourself and all of us, mess up those mean sons of bitches. Take my revolver, take the ammo, just deal with them," he stood up. "I'm too old for this... But stop by, I'll try to help you in whichever way I can... as long as I'm alive."

A year would pass before the old man would die of natural causes. During that time, Stanislav managed to catch one of the torturers and execute him deep in the forest, hacking him alive with an axe after shooting his kneecaps. After his return to the old man, he didn't tell him the details, fearing that it would greatly upset him. But even then, Stanislav remembered the kindness and compassion well. He was glad the old man decided to help him instead of calling the police. So, the young man fulfilled his request, bringing the end to the terrible people. That's the least he could do even if it meant sacrificing his soul for the good of others.

It seemed so long ago now. Stanislav went from being a reasonably normal human to a shattered one, and then he traveled to another world after his death, becoming Sirius. With the help of others, he became who he now was. He might not recover completely, he realized that, but he could at the very least try. It would honor everyone who helped him get through the darkest times of his life. He didn't believe in the afterlife before, but now he was certain that those people were looking at him somehow, watching his actions silently. His father, his mother, the old man, all of them might be watching him. And he wanted to make them proud.

Back in the present, the sky was hidden behind gray clouds as the wind whispered through the streets of the city of Canterlot. The bleak sun could barely glow through the clouds, casting just a dim light upon the land of Equestria. The streets were mostly empty; ponies preferred to stay inside their houses, many fireplaces alight to warm them up during a cold autumn day. Ponies who did have to go outside moved hastily, many of them wearing warm cloaks.

Sirius, used to such temperatures, felt nothing but a pleasant chill brushing against his fur. He was silent, his thoughts focused on changelings. Despite what they said about wanting him as a king, he felt something was amiss. How would he be able to rule them? It seemed that their gift was one not of respect but of fear. They knew what he did to their queen and some of her servants. They knew how brutal he was in doing so. Was it a gift or was it a sort of sacrifice, an offering made to please him? Did the changelings see him as a person or as a wrathful deity?

The former human didn't want to be a king or any other sort of ruler. He was not avoiding responsibility for his actions, but he would never take what he couldn't make right. He already had a great responsibility of taking care of Iclyn; he needed to improve the relationship he had with her. One day, he might marry her, and he needed to do a lot more to rightfully call himself a caring person, one that would be worthy of being married to. His plans, desires, and expectations never involved changelings.

Sirius broke from his thoughts as he heard a suspicious rustle. He came back to reality and looked around. At first, nothing seemed out of place. However, there was one small but important thing — the street was completely empty save for himself and Iclyn. A frown appeared on his face as a sense of wrongness appeared in his mind.

"You killed my mother!"

A dark-gray blur appeared in the corner of Sirius' vision; he jumped aside, dodging the incoming hit. He swiftly unsheathed his sword, ready to fight. In front of him, a changeling stood; in contrast to most, he had purple eyes, red neck fins and tail, and blue wings. He glared at the former human with a burning hatred, a sword in his magical grasp.

"You!" he pointed the sword at Sirius. "You will die for what you did!"

With a loud battle cry, the changeling dashed forward, attempting to strike Sirius; the stallion evaded the hit, blocking and redirecting it. Having no time to reach for the revolver, the former human focused his efforts on defending himself from the enraged changeling. Hit after hit came as he relentlessly assaulted Sirius, trying to break through his defense.

As adrenaline pumped through Sirius' blood vessels, his movements quickened, his heartbeat increased, and he finally retaliated, forcing the changeling into defense. Without restraint, the stallion struck time and time again; anger boiled inside him as he realized who the changeling was. He served Chrysalis. In Sirius' mind, such a changeling deserved nothing but death.

Iclyn stood aside, pacing nervously in place, her eyes barely following the storm of the duel. Having no idea what to do, she decided not to intervene. She took off and flew up, scanning the surroundings for help. Finally noticing a pair of Royal Guards, she dashed to them, knowing she might not have much time.

Sirius bashed the head of the changeling with the hilt of his sword, knocking away the weapon of his opponent. He prepared to deliver the final, ending strike, and yet something tugged on his blade, not allowing him to finish off the changeling.

"No, please!" he heard a voice from behind. "Don't do it!"

Those words fell on deaf ears. Growling, the former human opened a pouch and finally pulled out the revolver. Cocking the hammer, he aimed the weapon at the head of the changeling. A kinetic force knocked the revolver upwards as it fired, sending the bullet into the wall of one of the buildings, the thunderous sound of the shot echoing through the city.

Sirius swiftly spun around and saw another changeling. Before attacking him, he looked into his eyes. What he saw in them stopped him. He remembered a similar look on Iclyn's face; he remembered the lake full of ice, Luna lying on its surface, and Iclyn looking at him, horrified by what he had done. That look was... desperation.

Slowly, the former human lowered his weapons. The first changeling was panting, lying on the ground; he hissed in pain as blood seeped from the wound in his head. Sirius stepped aside as the second changeling rushed to the first.

"Pharynx, brother..." the second changeling said with worry. "Are you alright?"

"I will be... when I..." Pharynx growled out, attempting to stand up.

"No, stop, plea-"

"Thorax!" the changeling hissed like a snake. "I must do it..."

"No, brother, don't," Thorax pleaded, placing a hoof on his brother's shoulder. He looked into his eyes and said: "I know how you feel, but this isn't how it must be resolved."

Sirius stood there, listening, his heart still pumping. If he still had real fingers, the one on the trigger of the revolver would feel itchy. It was his chance to end the life of Pharynx, the changeling that assaulted him. He could swiftly raise the revolver, aim, pull the trigger. It wouldn't take longer than a second, maybe two. And yet, the stallion couldn't bring himself to do it. Hesitantly, he put the revolver back in the pouch and sheathed his sword.

"Stay where you are!" a voice barked. Finally, the guards arrived, their armor clanking as they rushed to the changelings. Iclyn appeared soon after, rushing to her loved one instead.

"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly as she hugged Sirius.

"I am..." he said slowly, his eyes still fixated on the changelings. They were apprehended by the guards, magic-nullifying rings put on their horns and restraints put on their legs and wings.

"You don't have the right to be king!" Pharynx yelled, glaring at Sirius as he and his brother were taken away. "I will never obey you!"

Sirius nodded slightly, furrowing his brows. He looked away from the changelings, going back into his thoughts about their race as a whole. Pharynx was just one changeling but how many more were there? Not every single changeling would accept Sirius as their new ruler. A hard decision to make but it was clear as day.

With a deep and weary sigh, Sirius said, "I won't be their king."

Sometime later, the two ponies reached the castle of Canterlot, where Princess Luna was already waiting for them. Sirius laid out the story behind what had happened earlier that day and all about the overall situation with the changelings. Wishing nothing else but to be done with it, he and Iclyn awaited her response. Hopefully, this will mark the end of this particular problem.

"...What you told me is... very interesting," the alicorn nodded slowly. "I believe it is a wise decision not to accept their offer. Changelings are too different from ponies. We might be able to coexist with them peacefully. However, we will never truly understand their needs and vice versa."

"What will happen to the two changelings?" Sirius asked more out of interest than worry.

"If your report is correct, then one of them will face punishment. Unless, of course, the changelings issue their own," Luna replied. "I will also make sure that all other changelings that are hostile to you will be found before it's too late."

"Thank you," Sirius nodded and then turned around to leave. With the changeling issue resolved, he could go back home and rest, hopefully. Perhaps, a cup of tea or hot chocolate would make him feel better.

"One more thing..." the princess said, making him turn back to her. "I sense there is something else in you that you've not told me."

"...Yes," the stallion confirmed hesitantly. "It is... the thing... Pale, purple eyes... it appeared in front of me."

"Then I believe it is time we deal with it," Luna stood up from her throne. "We can't let it manifest further into reality. Sirius, you will have to face the nightmare lest it consumes all."

"...I understand," Sirius replied darkly. "What do I need to do?"

"We need to bring the fight outside of the city, for once," the princess said. "I think... the lake will work... Yes, that lake..." her voice darkened as she finished the sentence.

An uneasy silence fell on the three ponies. However, Sirius didn't wait long to nod, agreeing with the princess. He had been avoiding the issue for far too long. He feared it, he was terrified of it. He had no idea how to fight it. But enough is enough, it was time for him to at the very least try. If not for his own sake, then for the sake of Iclyn, Luna, all the other ponies, maybe even the world as a whole. His nightmare mustn't come to life, this much he understood very clearly.

"How do I prepare?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

"You can never prepare to face your inner demons," Luna replied slowly, a weary expression briefly appearing on her features. "Even with help, it is extremely... difficult."

Deep in Sirius' mind, in the darkest corner of his thoughts, entangled in fears and hatred, the Figure was everpresent, waiting for its time. Pale, ghastly, with unnerving glowing purple eyes deep in their sockets, it was a distorted image of what Sirius once was.

Stanislav was a human, a simple one among many others. What separated him from the rest was his experiences. They damaged him forever, creating something way worse inside him, a manifestation of the dread he felt when he was abandoned, the pain he felt when he was tortured, and the unstoppable rage he felt when he killed. One small but important detail, one thing he was afraid of admitting, was true — he relished in killing those that wished to harm him. This was what created the Figure — the unnatural pleasure of killing, the satisfaction Stanislav felt when he tracked down and brutally murdered the last person involved in his terrible experience.

The Figure seemed inseparable from Stanislav, going with him even after his death. It grew into something more than just a mix of feelings and emotions. It was ready to tear, shred, rip apart anything and everything that crossed its path, and it would enjoy every second of it. The dark spirit of hatred, it could neither be reasoned with nor suppressed. One day, it would come and ravage those unfortunate that stood in its way.

The Figure looked up to the only light shining into the perpetual darkness of this part of a fragile mind. Narrowing its eyes, it snorted in discontent.

"We will see..." it said coldly. The darkness around it started to wrap it like a cloak, soon becoming a part of the nightmare; the formless cloak hid the humanoid shape of the body, leaving only the pair of hateful eyes to glare from under the hood. As the folds of its cloak fluttered in the silent and unseen wind, a reflection of steel flashed.

The Figure wasn't going down without a fight.

https://youtu.be/iv70IxDKdsI

Author's Notes:

What are your thoughts, dear readers? I'd like to hear what you think will happen next!