The halls were dark and long. Twilight trudged through them slowly, Faulkner at her side and two other ponies behind. There was little light; the ancient walls bore no lights, but rather seemed to generate a barely perceptible luminescence from within. The whole while, Twilight kept questioning herself, wondering if she really did feel sick. As far as she could tell, she was fine- -but there were little hints: a tremor in her front hooves and a barely discernible sluggishness in the rear; a strange tiredness; odd visual distortions that appeared to cross her eyes only when she looked into the deepest shadows of the Library hall. She did not feel sick- -and yet something deep within her told her that she must go with Faulkner. Failing to do so would end horribly.

“I’m scared,” she said.

“It’s okay to feel that way,” said Faulkner. “But it’s going to be alright.”

They came to a chamber. It was large and circular, perhaps once meant as a lecture hall in the style of an ancient amphitheater. Twilight did not know; she could not see much more than the outlines of the high walls and the occasional glint of a reflective eye. The whole of it was silent.

Several ponies were waiting for her. Among them was Aeschylus. Her expression was stern and neutral. As Twilight approached, the ponies to her rear stopped near the door while Faulkner followed her forward. When she was closer, Twilight was able to see a large crate.

As they neared, a pair of ponies moved toward the box. They removed the lid, and then began to peel what appeared to be clinging plastic sheeting from its contents. They worked quickly and efficiently, and when they were done Twilight barely managed to stifle a gasp. There on the tray that had made up the bottom of the crate was a pony- -or, Twilight supposed, an empty body.

She was lying with her eyes closed, curled up as though she were sleeping. The clinging plastic had appeared as though it were wet, but the body they covered was dry and perfect. She looked identical to all of the other Twilights, save for only one detail: she had no wings, or even a space for them to be installed.

Twilight looked up. She saw the ponies staring back at her, and in one distant corner she saw Morgana, present but separate from the others, watching. Morgana, Twilight found, was staring at the inert body. Her eyes seemed distant.

“Twilight Sparkle,” said Aeschylus, her voice quiet but still echoing off the silent walls. “I have been informed that you lack a first name, or a first name as we conceive of it, but that is of no consequence at this juncture. Before we begin, I must ask if you are sure of this course of action. Once we complete it, reversing it will likely be lethal. Do you understand?”

Twilight opened her mouth but did not speak. She turned to Faulkner, who smiled at her. Then- -she did not know why- -her eyes slowly drifted back to Morgana. This time, Morgana was watching her.

“I understand,” said Twilight, her voice cracking slightly as she spoke. “And I am sure.”

“Then we may begin. Faulkner will be responsible for half of the transfer. I shall perform the second half personally.”

Faulkner walked close to Twilight. “I need to interface for this, miss.”

Twilight nodded, and Faulkner opened Twilight’s cutie-mark panel. She inserted her interface cable, while Aeschylus inserted her own into the neck interface of the new body. Twilight once again felt the strange sensation of a familiar presence on the periphery of her consciousness. Faulkner was moving swiftly, preparing.

“Everything is ready,” she said at last.

Aeschylus sighed. “Where this a normal ritual, this would be the point where I would ask you to swear an oath to uphold the mission of the Library- -to our Purpose, and to the preservation of literature, knowledge, and books themselves. This however is something of a unique circumstance, so I shall not ask that of you.”

“I am willing to take that oath,” said Twilight, causing Faulkner to gasp slightly. “I love books, and your mission is so beautiful. If you want, I don’t mind joining you.”

Aeschylus stared at her, not disapprovingly but not in support either. To Twilight, she seemed to be thinking.

“No,” she said. “I will not accept it at this time. I do not think you can grasp its full meaning, not while you are dying and this body is the only hope of rescue. The time is not right. Nevertheless, I will consider it when the time is ripe. This body links you to us; though you may not be a Librarian, as we are, so long as you keep this body you will recall that you might one day return.” She smiled, and for an instant she looked very much like Faulkner. “Maybe the day will come when I can welcome you with open arms. When you are ready.”

Aeschylus turned to Faulkner, and Faulkner nodded.

“I am going to begin,” she said.

Twilight nodded and closed her eyes. She did not know what to expect. In her conscious mind, she still believed that nothing would happen. She was the real Twilight, after all. Her body was not mechanical; part of her still thought that they would discover this and be tremendously surprised. Another part, though, feared that this would hurt profoundly.

She had scarcely closed her eyes when she heard Aeschylus’s voice.

“You may open your eyes, now,” she said softly.

Twilight did, wondering if something had gone wrong with the procedure.

“Huh? Did something…”

She trailed off, suddenly dumbstruck by the sight before her. The room that had been so dark before was suddenly as bright as day. Twilight saw that it was indeed an amphitheater, and that many Librarians had gathered in the seats to witness the event.

What left Twilight awestruck, though, was the color and detail of it all. She was by no means in a richly decorated world, but the colors that she did see were astounding and rich. Twilight had not even realized that her vision had been so poor before: the world she had seen before that was filled with nothing but grainy unsaturated colors was now beautiful and brilliant. She could see the violet in every Twilight around her, and as she looked up to Faulkner, she could see every individual hair on her body, even from three meters away.

When she looked to Faulkner, though, she gasped. Faulkner, who had just been beside her, was now linked to a crumpled body on the floor. It was dressed in the clothing that Twilight had been wearing, and it looked so small and frail.

“That…that’s me…”

Twilight stood up. She was shaky at first, but strong and limber. As she rose, she felt a click as something was disconnected from her neck.

“It is done,” said Aeschylus. “As Lazarus rose once again, so have you. Welcome to the world, Twilight Sparkle.”

With the ritual completed, Aeschylus departed, allowing her subordinates and her daughter to arrange for Twilight Sparkle’s clothes to be transferred and for the disposal of the now uninhabitable antique body. If Twilight herself did not want to keep it, Aeschylus had considered mounting it in a standing position to serve as a historical artifact, to make sure that incoming novices and visitors truly understood the history of what ponies had once been.

As she left the amphitheater, though, Aeschylus became aware of a shadow following her. She sighed.

“Following behind me again, Morgana? A literal representation of much of the latter portion of my life, I think.”

Morgana approached. “Thank you,” she said.

“You? Thanking me? I wouldn’t be surprised if the planes of Hell itself just grew more icy.”

“I’m trying to be polite.”

“Why?” Aeschylus turned. “To make amends? You are far beyond that. I did not allow this for your sake. I allowed it for her. She is old. As old as you are, if not older, and yet she is also young. Still innocent.”

“I never had the chance to be innocent,” snapped Morgana.

“While that may be true, it was a declarative statement. Not a judgement. You have the option to do good in the world, but instead you refuse to differentiate between good and evil. Your heart has grown hard, but hers is still young. I could not allow her to perish.”

“And if she turns out to be a failure? Like me?”

“Few could fail so hard. Your sin is neither a lapse in judgement nor incompetence, but a conscious decision. I would therefore hardly define it as failure.”

“But if she does?”

“Then so be it.”

Aeschylus sighed. She turned and looked down the long hall toward where the as of yet unnamed Twilight was most likely taking her first steps in a new body. It was not a perfect model, and not new- -but it was advanced as it needed to be, and it would run for decades even if she put it through the harshest conditions the world had to offer.

“So,” she said, still not looking at Morgana. “You stated that you came here not for the young one, but for your own selfish reason. Let me hear it.”

“The uplink. I need to use it.”

Aeschylus turned toward Morgana, and their eyes met. Their eyes were the same, and yet profoundly different. Just five mitotic splits separated Aeschylus from an ancestor who had been one of Morgana’s contemporaries; she herself was considered ancient, but paled in comparison to Morgana, the Bearer of the Gem. Her own life had been privileged, and Morgana’s had been long and harsh. Her eyes- -the eyes of Twilight Sparkle- -somehow managed to reflect that.

“I granted your request to help the girl,” she said. “Because for a moment I suspected you had some sense of altruism.”

“I don’t.”

“My point exactly. I see no reason why I should allow you to use our systems, or any part of this library. Not even one book. Nevertheless, I am curious. I do not hate you, Morgana, not exactly- -but I do believe that you hate me. This must be a desperate need if you returned here.”

Morgana spoke without hesitation. “I am looking for the War Stone.”

Aeschylus’s brow furrowed and she felt her stance harden. It had been a long time since she had felt the jolt of dark emotion that came with the mention of the accursed Stone. “There have only been two times in my life I have actually, seriously considered killing you. That was the second, just now.”

“I need the uplink. It’s the only way I can get to it.”

“And what would you do if you found it?” Aeschylus stepped forward, her tone rising but her volume decreasing. “Would you condemn us all to death? Would you be the one to try to wield its power?”

“I have no illusions that I could command it.”

“Of course. No mortal can. But then why seek it?”

“Because your wrong. I have reason to believe that someone is using it.”

Aeschylus’s eyes widened, if only at the idea. “Impossible.”

“I know. But I need to follow up on it. It’s my only lead.”

“Yes, because you insist on playing detective. A job, mind you, that you took for the sake of your own amusement. An amusement that you would now die for?”

“I don’t intend to die. I have a plan. I can’t command the War Stone, but if I find it- -”

“You would what, speak with it? Morgana, even approaching it would be fatal. It is an abomination, a failure in the natural order of the world. What you are proposing is madness.”

“The War Stone and I came into existence at around the same time- -”

“Yes, and myself and my sister were born at around the time of the invention of the positronic bomb, but that does not mean that I could expect to survive the detonation of one!”

Morgana’s gaze hardened. It was clear that she was tired of asking nicely.

“And what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not wrong- -”

“No, you’re controlling the argument. Keeping it in areas where you’re sure to be right. But what if you’re wrong? What if someone out there really is using the War Stone?”

“You have no proof- -”

“Because you’re not letting me look! Do you have any idea what someone could do with that power? Think of it in the hypothetical, if you have to, because apparently you’re at least good at that. Someone- -a someone, mind you, that is currently trying to kill me and HAS killed others- -with access to all that power. What do you think would happen?”

Aeschylus paused, begrudgingly accepting the proposition to consider the line of reasoning in the hypothetical. “It would create a person or entity not bound by what we normally conceive of as the limits of technology.”

“And what would a person like that use it for?”

“That depends on the person. From my understanding, humans would seek out either power or destruction, or perhaps one as a method for achieving the other. Conquest. Profit, perhaps. Or some might use it for darker measures…” her mind wandered, and was filled with thoughts of strange and horrible creations, aberrations formed from a brilliant but twisted mind. Why these things would be made- -in pursuit of enlightenment, or for some other purpose- -she did not know, nor did she feel the need to speak of them. Morgana seemed to recognize the realization in her eyes, though.

“You see what I’m saying.”

“I see that you’re trying to manipulate me.”

“Aeschylus, I only want to look- -”

“And if this person, this entity, as hypothetical as it may be, what if it looks back? What if it sees you, or sees us? What then? Or, even if there is no entity- -I do not concede its existence!- -we would still be subject to the wrath of the War Stone itself!”

“No. You wouldn’t. Only me. I only need the uplink. You can isolate everything else.”

Aeschylus’s eyes widened. “Have you finally gone insane? Without support- -”

“My plan does not call for support, it calls for me. Anything extra will just get in my way.”

“You will be killed!”

“No I won’t! Goddamn it, I’ve survived things you can’t even imagine! I fought in New York, in Pelican Island- -I was at the fucking battle of Pawtucket! I was there when the War Sone first came into existence! I’ve seen it grow, and I’ve seen the devastation it can cause firsthand! I can handle this! Nobody else can!”

Aeschylus stared at Morgana. Then she turned away sharply. “It has been quiet for so many decades. Hidden, I suppose. I had hoped it was gone, that somehow it had died.”

“It can’t die. And it can’t be destroyed. Not now, not ever. You have to have known that.”

“I suppose I did, but it is not our duty to fight. Let the outside world deal with the destruction, so long as it does not interfere with our Purpose.”

“And how long will that last? Before the destruction reaches you?”

“I was never one to think about that. This is a problem for the outside world, not for us.” She looked over her shoulder. “A world that you now belong to. If you insist on this, then go ahead. You may use the uplink, if that is your wish. But I need something in return.”

“What?”

“If you survive, leave this place. Never come back. I never want to see you again. It fills me with so much sadness.”

“Because I’m a failure.”

“No. Because you broke my heart.”