“You still don’t know, do you? Who you are. Why you’re here.”
Paxton Fettel, First Encounter Assault Recon.

There was a heavy silence after this strange new Alicorn’s – Galatea’s – pronouncement. Lyra looked between this unknown mare and Alex with wide eyes, uncertain what to say – or if there even was anything else to say. Galatea herself prompted a host of questions to come to Lyra’s mind, but most of them died before her vocal cords so much as twitched, so forbidding was her expression.

“You… you sent me here?” Alex finally said after a moment.

“That’s correct,” Galatea said quietly. “Or, to be more accurate, my counterpart from the Equus you are more familiar with sent you here, with my cooperation.”

Lyra frowned, still dumbstruck but now beginning to piece together threads as they showed themselves. An Alicorn would certainly be one of the few creatures capable of the magic required to send a creature from one world to another, but…

… well, this was all entirely different strands of ‘new’. Lyra had a sneaking suspicion that she’d be lost before too long if things became more complex.

“What did you… I mean,” Alex began after another pause, shaking his head. “What happened? Why did you… did your other self… send me here?”

“Because mine other self wanted to find some way to end the Solar Empire,” Galatea replied quietly. “It was in some ways as abhorrent to her as it has been to you.”

Alex snorted. “Respectfully, ma’am, I find that difficult to believe.”

Galatea’s nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed, and for a moment Lyra was suddenly afraid that Alex had provoked her to anger.

“Believe it, Alexander Reiner,” she said, her voice taking on a cold edge. “Mine entire life has been spent keeping the order that mine mother-creator tasked me with watching over. This has been the work of thousands of years. And mine other self, in that world, has failed that task. This is unacceptable.”

There was a brief pause as Galatea took a breath to calm herself. Alex and Lyra exchanged a look.

“I’m… sorry,” he said slowly. “So… so, your other self met with me.”

“That is so,” Galatea said, more calmly. “She had those with whom she had worked approach your people. You met with her. She arranged for you to come here, but the incident went… awry.” She smiled sadly. “Most of this, you do not remember, but I can share some details with you.”

Alex looked at Lyra, who shrugged.

“I’ve never even heard of this Alicorn,” she said quietly.

Galatea chuckled. “Nopony has heard of me, Lyra Heartstrings. I would be somewhat… concerned, if they had.”

“But…” Lyra said, frowning. “Your voice… it’s familiar.”

“‘Familiar’?” Galatea repeated, scoffing at her. “You cannot have heard my voice before, little pony, for I have not spoken to one of our kind in millennia. You might be the first non-Alicorn I have ever so much as uttered a syllable towards.”

“But I have heard your voice before,” Lyra repeated insistently. “In Alex’s mind… we heard voices, voices from his past. I could have sworn I heard your voice in there, saying something about ‘fearing failure’.”

Galatea nodded slowly, her derision turning to a solemn frown. “Ah, yes. Luna’s delve into Reiner’s mind: I am aware that it took place.” She sighed. “You may have heard some of mine other self’s last words, little pony.”

Lyra’s eyes widened. “She’s… she’s dead?”

“Yes,” Galatea said bluntly. “Slain by Queen Celestia.”

Alex leant forward. “Alright, then, ma’am. Say I believed you. What, exactly, happened? How did I get here?”

“It would be easier,” Galatea replied slowly, “to show you – if you are willing.”

Alex frowned. “A mind delve.”

“Indeed.”

Alex’s response was instantaneous. “Only if Lyra comes too.”

Galatea raised an eyebrow, looking at Lyra with a scrutinising eye. Lyra flinched slightly – where Celestia was a calming, reassuring presence, this Alicorn was nothing short of unnerving.

“An odd request, given that you do not know her as you knew her counterpart,” Galatea said after a moment, “but I see no reason to disallow it.” Her horn began glowing. “If you would prepare yourselves.”

Alex took a breath, and Lyra closed her eyes.

And then she opened them to a dark, unassuming room. A single human figure sat behind a desk, hunched over paperwork.

“Alex?” Lyra said at once. “Is that you?”

“It is,” a voice said from behind her, and Lyra jumped as she saw Alex – clad once more in the clothes he had arrived in, save that they were undamaged – standing behind her. He was frowning at the image of the slouched human. “That was me in my office, before I came here. It’s one of the last things I can clearly remember.”

From out of the shadows, Galatea stepped, her dark coat and mane blending well with the darkness. She smiled.

“This is where the tale of our meeting begins, Alexander Reiner: a memory that was locked in your mind,” she said quietly. “Come, observe with me.”

Exchanging looks of bemusement, Lyra and Alex moved over to where she was standing just as there was a knock at the door to the office. The image of Alex looked up: Lyra was surprised at how healthy he looked. The Alex she knew was battered and bruised, even in this mindscape, with stubble and tired eyes. This Alex, by contrast, looked… determined. His face was clean shaven and his eyes bright and energised.

“Yes?” he said. “Who’s there?”

The door opened, and a man with a long robe over some sort of tabard and shirt entered. He had darker skin than Alex, with narrower eyes and black hair pulled up into a topknot. His face was covered by a scruffy black beard with flecks of grey in it.

“Colonel,” the man said, inclining his head. His voice was deep and authoritative. “It is good to see you again.”

The image of Alex stood up. “Hiro. Damn, but it’s been a while.” He held out a hand, and the other human clasped it firmly. “What’re you doing back? Finally coming off your leave?”

“Nothing so simple,” the other human – Hiro – said quietly. “I am here to deliver a request.”

“A request?” the image of Alex repeated. “What sort of request?”

Hiro lowered his head. “You know that I and a few others – the ones the UN and much of PHL command call ‘Mystics’ – have been searching the world for the secrets beyond the skin of reality.”

The image of Alex chuckled. “That’s, uh, one way to put it. I know that some of you have been seen doing all sorts of crazy crap.”

“Quite,” Hiro said, snorting. “Well, we have made an ally during our journeys.”

The image Alex frowned. “An ally. What kind of ally?”

“One who knows much of what has happened in Equestria,” Hiro said quietly. “She’s asked to speak with you.”

“With me?” the memory of Alex repeated. “Why me?”

“Because she believes you are the only one who will be able to help her,” Hiro replied with a smile. “You’re the military head of the PHL, and its ‘face’. If nothing else, what you say has clout, and our ally knows this.” His smile faded, his expression becoming more serious. “And I believe what she has to say will be important.”

Next to Lyra, Alex frowned, stroking his stubble absently. The memory of Alex sighed, before nodding.

“If you think so, Hiro,” he said quietly. “You understand, you’ll have to submit to the usual checks before I can act on this.”

“I will happily,” Hiro replied. “So long as you meet with her in Boston.”

“Let’s get to it, then,” Alex said, motioning to the door, “and then I’ll get my team together. Lord knows Casey’s been bugging me for weeks that he’s bored with garrison duty.”

As the two men walked out, the memory around them dissolved into nothingness. Galatea looked at Alex with a neutral expression.

“Are you remembering, now?” she asked.

“Slowly,” Alex said quietly, “and this fits. Hiro’s one of the few men I’d still trust with my life.”

“You mentioned him before,” Lyra said quietly. “Who is he?”

“He was one of the PHL’s best,” Alex replied, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing. “One of the CQC specialists we ended up bringing in when it got too obvious that our guys weren’t trained or equipped for CQC against Guards with spears and swords wearing plate armour. But then he got involved with the Mystics…”

He trailed off, his expression becoming thoughtful, brow furrowing in contemplation.

“Who are the Mystics?” Lyra asked.

Alex looked at her, and gave a small chuckle. “Well, that’s… tricky. Short answer is, they’re people who believe in Earth’s own magic, and have travelled the world – or, y’know, what’s left of it – to find that magic and use it.” His expression sobered. “Used to think they were all cranks – John Constantine, Quinn Raine, Jim whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is…” He looked at where the memory of Hiro had been standing. “But when Hiro joined them, and when they started talking to you – sorry, to my Lyra – well, let’s just say, if Hiro Mifune takes something seriously, you take it seriously.”

Lyra nodded slowly. She felt like she was getting an incomplete picture, but it was a picture nonetheless, and it was… strange. Galatea, meanwhile, was nodding.

“Do you wish to see what happened?” she asked softly.

“I take it the other you was the ally he was talking about?” Alex asked rhetorically, looking at her. “I mean, that seems pretty obvious.”

“Indeed,” Galatea said with a nod.

“‘Kay,” Alex said. “Then I’m not sure why we need the theatrics.”

Galatea gave a cold smile. “These theatrics, as you call them, are more evocative. And they prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that I am telling you the truth. For what is to come, we must have no doubts, no second guessing.”

“Alright,” Alex said quietly. “So: what?”

In response, Galatea’s horn glowed, and suddenly the three of them were standing in what looked like a ruined church, broken arches above them and holes in the roof, exposing a cloudy sky. The image of a mare in a dark, ragged cloak was standing, waiting, as the memory of Alex entered the church, a few other humans in similar gear to him – if slightly more comprehensively armoured, all but one wearing full-face helmets – walking with him, many of them carrying what looked like a Griffon muskets, save for being bulkier and more complex-looking. Another human, this one in a brown robe, was with them as well.

“You?” the real Alex asked Galatea.

She nodded, her eyes not leaving the scene in front of them. The memory of Alex walked ahead of the other humans, the robed one pointing at the mare.

“Excuse me?” the memory said. “Are you the mare I’m supposed to be meeting?”

“Colonel Alexander Reiner,” the mare said, turning to look at him. With a swift movement, she drew her hood down, revealing a face nearly identical to Galatea’s, save for lines under her eyes and a single thin scar on her cheek. “Finally.”

“Sorry I’m late,” memory-Alex said, smirking. “We, uh, walked most of the way after the Doc dropped us off in Boston, and this is still a war zone.”

“I am aware of your difficulties,” Galatea’s counterpart said. Her tone, if it were possible, was even colder and more clipped than the Galatea who stood by Lyra. “Have your men and the Mystic leave.”

The Mystic bowed and left at once. Memory-Alex turned to the rest of the humans.

“Casey, wait outside,” he said to one of them, a red headed male with his helmet clipped to his belt instead of on his head. “Keep an eye out for hostile forces – we’re still not sure just how safe we are in this location.”

“Gotcha, boss,” the other human replied in a strong brogue quite unlike Alex’s accent. He winked. “We’ll holler at the first sign o’ trouble.

He walked out of the church, the other humans following, leaving memory-Galatea and memory-Alex alone.

“Alexander Reiner,” the mare said again. “The leader of the PHL, and heir to the work of Lyra Heartstrings.”

Memory-Alex frowned. “You know about Lyra?”

“We spoke, once,” memory-Galatea said shortly. “And her work was important. Maybe more so than even I know. But that is not why you are here.”

“Why am I here, then, Ms…?” memory-Alex asked.

The memory of Galatea threw off her cloak in a single motion, spreading her wings wide. Memory-Alex stepped back, eyes wide in shock.

“You’re an Alicorn!” he said, hand reaching for his pistol.

“I am here to help you, human,” memory-Galatea said sharply. “Stay your hand!”

Memory-Alex moved his hand from his gun and seemed to calm a fraction, though he still looked wary.

“We were under the impression that Princess Luna was the only other Alicorn, apart from the Tyrant,” he said quietly. “And that there were no others.”

“And you would have been within your rights to have that impression,” memory-Galatea replied simply. “Mine work has been to observe the others, not to interact. Mine sisters never knew of me… thought I fear mine secrecy is compromised, now.”

“Who are you, then?” memory-Alex asked.

“Mine name is Galatea,” memory-Galatea said impatiently. “And I have little time, so listen well. You do not have the manpower, the expertise or the requisite strength to defeat your enemy.” Before memory-Alex could object, she held up a hoof. “Do not posture to me, Alexander Reiner. You know as well as I that I have spoken only the truth.”

Memory-Alex sighed. “Alright. So?”

“So, I have a solution,” memory-Galatea replied. “I have, amongst my many talents, the power – however much a strain it may prove – to connect to other incarnations of myself, alternates and counterparts from what you would term parallel realities.”

Memory-Alex frowned. “From other Solar Empires?”

Memory-Galatea snorted. “From Equestrias that never became the abomination calling itself the Solar Empire. Unsullied, free.”

Memory-Alex paused. “That’s… I’d say that’s ridiculous, but – well, we’ve had to redefine what we call ridiculous over the last few years.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” memory-Galatea said with a small, mirthless smirk. “It is with a counterpart of mine in one of these Unsullied Equestrias that I have communed. She and I, together, have the power to bring you to her world.”

“Where… what?” memory-Alex asked. “Will she be able to help?”

“Not alone,” memory-Galatea said, “but she will be able to aid you in securing the aid of that world’s diarchs. Celestia of old…” Here, memory-Galatea’s expression became wistful. “Celestia of old was merciful, kind, just, and strong-willed. Whatever madness has possessed the Celestia who stands at the head of the Solar Empire, her rightful self would oppose it as the perversion of Harmony that it is.”

Memory-Alex scowled. “Trusting Celestia? That’s… gonna be hard to swallow, for anyone. I’d have to run it by command.”

Memory-Galatea scowled. “We are short of time, Alexander Reiner. Discussing the correct course in a committee is a luxury you do not have.”

“But it’s how we do things, ma’am,” memory-Alex retorted. “I might be head of the PHL, but I’m not the unilateral boss of everyone in the damn army. I’ve got to answer to my people, to my superiors…”

Memory-Galatea tutted, but then nodded. “Very well, Alexander Reiner, if that is what you must do, then –”

She paused, and then her eyes widened.

“... no.”

“What?” memory-Alex asked, frowning.

Before memory-Galatea could answer, the human from before – Casey? – ran into the building, panting slightly.

“Colonel!” he yelled, sounding almost panicked. “We have heavy incoming!”

“Shit!” memory-Alex swore. “How bad?”

“Bad, sir,” Casey replied. “They must have swept right past Checkpoint Zeta.”

Memory-Alex ran a hand through his hair. “Escape routes?”

Casey shook his head. “We’re cut off, sir.”

“It is worse than you realise,” memory-Galatea said hollowly. Casey looked at her, his eyes widening as he took in the fact that he was looking at an Alicorn. “She is coming. She must have sensed that I am here.”

There was an immediate reaction from both the memory Alex and the real one. The real Alex clenched his fist, scowling, while the memory Alex looked shocked and – Lyra felt a chill run down her spine – afraid.

“The Tyrant,” memory-Alex whispered.

“Yes,” memory-Galatea said quietly. “There is no escape for us here. She will have even blocked teleportation – I am as trapped as you.”

Memory-Alex ran a hand through his hair again, looking desperate for a moment, before letting out a sigh.

“Send me,” he said quietly.

“Pardon?” memory-Galatea asked, frowning.

“Send me to this other Equestria,” memory-Alex said. “If it’s true, if they can help us, then fine. I’ll go. I’ll take the chance.” He gave a wan smile. “It’s gotta be better than dying here.”

Memory-Galatea nodded slowly. “Indeed… very well, then. I will commune with mine other self.” There was a pause. “I will need time.”

Casey nodded. “You’ll have that time, ma’am.”

“Casey,” memory-Alex began, but the other human held up a hand to forestall it.

“If she can get you out of here… shit, boss, I don’t understand any of it, but it sounds better than carking it here,” he said, his tone surprisingly light. “Squad’ll buy you some time, keep the bastards off your arse, and let the lady do… whatever it is she’s gonna do.”

“Casey,” memory-Alex said again, and Lyra saw her Alex mouth the word as well, his expression unreadable.

“Colonel, don’t sweat it,” Casey said. “We’ve got your back. See you on the flip side.”

Without another word, he jogged back out the door, jamming his helmet on as he did so. Memory-Alex sighed, and waited as memory-Galatea’s horn began glowing.

A few moments passed, and the sound of the strange muskets going off began to come from outside, along with other sounds that Lyra couldn’t pinpoint. Alex winced next to Lyra.

“Shit,” he swore quietly. “Goddammit Casey.”

“Another friend?” Lyra asked quietly.

“A good guy,” Alex replied, his expression full of guilt and remorse. “And I got him killed.”

As the portal took shape, the sounds of the strange musket-esque weapons got closer. Memory-Alex seemed to tense, drawing his own weapon – seemingly a smaller version of those his colleagues had carried. A moment passed, and then suddenly the door burst open and a group of Unicorn stallions in what looked like heavier Royal Guard armour burst into the church.

“You must keep them from interfering!” memory-Galatea yelled.

“Gotcha!” memory-Alex called back. He brought up his weapon and opened fire, and one of the stallions went down with a spray of blood from his head.

Lyra flinched at the display of violence. Next to her, the real Alex put a hand on her shoulder.

The next Guardspony fired a spell at memory-Alex, a bolt of energy flying towards him. He dodged, but it still grazed his arm and he yelled out in pain. Lyra saw Alex’s hand go reflexively to where the necrotic flesh was on his arm.

The Unicorn Guard then threw another spell, this one apparently more concussive, since it blasted a few of the pews apart. Memory-Alex rolled out of the way, but some of the splash had reached him. More spells flew his way, and he dodged behind a stone pillar. He popped out and fired again, felling another Unicorn.

“Go for the traitor!” one of the Unicorns yelled.

Two of the Guardsponies broke off, but before they could attack again, memory-Alex stepped out and threw what looked like a small metal ball at them. Memory-Galatea raised a shield around herself as she worked.

“Grenade!” another of the Unicorns yelled, and then there was a loud explosion, blasting masonry and woodwork apart. The smoke cleared partially, and Lyra could see memory-Alex lying against a pillar, grimacing in pain.

“Shit,” Alex swore from next to Lyra.

From out of the smoke emerged one last Unicorn. Seeing memory-Alex, the Unicorn sent more spells his way, forcing him to dodge, until another spell hit him, sending him spinning through the air. Memory-Alex groaned, but managed to raise his pistol, only for another spell to blast it from his hand.

“You!” the Unicorn yelled. He was bleeding from one of his ears, and his eyes were wide and filled with rage. “You’re the leader – the one that gives all the monkeys their false belief! You’re an idolator!”

Lyra, watching, could only frown at the odd word.

“Soon, her majesty will be done with your friends,” the Unicorn continued, “and then it’s your -”

A blast of cold blue magic slammed into the Unicorn, and a moment later empty armour clattered to the floor, pale blue mist dissipating around it. Memory-Alex looked up, to see memory-Galatea staring in disgust at the empty armour.

“Newfoal,” she said with a grimace. “Disgusting abomination of nature. Another crime, another aberrance. One we must hope we can set right.”

Behind her, her portal was quite finished: a shimmering blue-white vortex, standing like a vertical puddle of water. Memory-Alex, wincing, stood up, looking at it with wide, astonished eyes.

“Is it ready?” he asked quietly.

“It should be,” memory-Galatea replied. “It will take you to a new, Unsullied Equestria, and there – the spirits be willing – you will find help.”

Memory-Alex nodded slowly, and then suddenly he frowned. “But… what about you?”

“What about me?” memory-Galatea asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You said it yourself,” memory-Alex reminded her. “You can’t escape. If the Tyrant really is here, then like you said, she’ll have blocked any magical way out.” He paused. “Can you… can you beat her? Or get past her?”

“I do not know,” memory-Galatea replied, almost indifferently. “I suspect not. She obliterated the creature Discord, the ancient evil of Kontagion. These things were beyond my strength to accomplish, and yet she did them.” She took a breath, before nodding. “Yes, I believe this is the moment where I meet my destiny.”

Memory-Alex shook his head. “No, that’s… you can’t die. You can still… I dunno…”

“You proceed from a false assumption, Alexander Reiner,” memory-Galatea said more gently. “I do not fear death. I fear failure. I fear the world that awaits if you fail. That is why I will make sure you do not. This is how I will restore the order I was created to protect.” She paused. “One Galatea… or another.”

At this, the memory of Galatea looked towards where the real Galatea was watching, almost as if looking right at her. Galatea shifted her stance slightly, inclining her head. Lyra looked up at her, and frowned: could these two, the memory and the one remembering, be communicating? Was that even possible?

“Now go,” memory-Galatea said, motioning to the portal. “Go now.”

Memory-Alex threw her one last look, and then threw himself into the portal. There was a blinding flash of light, and then the portal became still once more.

“She sacrificed herself to save me,” Alex said from next to Lyra. “I… could she have escaped?”

“No,” Galatea told him, speaking quietly. “She did not.”

The memory of Galatea watched the portal for a moment, before turning her attention to the church’s door. The sounds from outside had stopped, and she sighed.

“Do you see me, Galatea?” she asked. “I do this so that the plan will be returned to its rightful way. Do you understand what you have to do, the part you have to play, now? The sacrifices you must make?”

“Where chaos rules, I shall preach order,” Galatea replied, intoning the words almost like a prayer, her voice soft. “Where the plan goes astray, it is mine place to correct it.”

“I meet my fate gladly, knowing you will continue what I have begun,” the memory of Galatea said quietly, and she smiled beatifically, her wings flaring out and her horn glowing. “Farewell, sister-self.”

As the door to the church burst open in a flare of blinding light, a figure of an Alicorn was visible in the doorway, silhouetted against a burning white light outside…

And then the memory ended, and Lyra and Alex were back in the hospital room. Alex let out a breath and leant back against his pillow, closing his eyes.

“Now you know,” Galatea said, her mane limp and her face matted with sweat: clearly the delve had taken some energy to maintain. “And now you understand why you were brought here.”

“You and your other self,” Alex replied quietly, his eyes still closed. “You always intended that I would get this Celestia’s help.”

“You have dawdled,” Galatea said with a snort. “Time was short to begin with, and now it is even shorter. We must act now, Alexander Reiner.”

Alex nodded. “I see.” He sighed. “I… don’t suppose you can reconnect this world with mine?”

Galatea smirked. “Alone, no. I do not have the power.”

“But…?” Lyra asked.

Galatea’s smirk became a grin. “But I will not be alone, Lyra Heartstrings. Mine sister has, without realising it, already recruited the perfect being to supply raw energy for our cause. Now I need only speak with him.”

A point for those reading this and any subsequent chapters: if you’re following the “Main” SPECTRUM, while I can’t say these chapters of mine will be entirely distinct from the “Main” story (I’ve left my work on the Jed R Cut free for the Crew to appropriate as they see fit), we passed the point I left the story proper two chapters ago, and now neither I nor they are beholden to the other to follow any ideas laid down. In layman’s terms, we’re both heading into increasingly uncharted waters, and our destinations may not be quite the same.