After a few moments of deafening silence, the glass of the broad windows, taking up all the walls and spilling forth the dazzling sunlight, began to darken, allowing me to finally see more than just black outlines.

It wasn’t a throne room as I first thought, but rather an observation room by the looks of it. A spacious closed balcony with sparse furniture and decorations, mainly resting places: chairs, cushions and mats – all empty. Well, except for the one on the slightly elevated platform, a large easy chair, rather than throne, occupied by… Queen Chrysalis?

I had trouble recognizing her. If I hadn't heard the vile changeling queen’s unmistakable voice mere moments earlier and if I wasn’t told it was her I could have mistaken her for some other changeling.

Queen Chrysalis’ carapace wasn’t ashen black anymore, it was white – years upon years had bleached it to the color of bone. It was covered by a webwork of tiny metal stitches gleaming with the painfully familiar tint and covering countless hairline fractures, holding her chitinous skin together. Atop her natural exoskeleton a delicate golden filigree framework of artificial joints rested like a full-body set of intricate jewellery, softly glowing crystals embedded into it casting pale rose shadows on her alabaster body. The gossamer wings were beyond simply tattered as they were the last time I saw them – half of them, if not more, was gone, rendering the changeling queen unable to fly, which probably wouldn’t be possible anyway, as old and fragile as she seemed. Even her mane was discolored, not the silver of an elder, just a very faded hue of its original color, a seaweed. It wasn’t hanging loose, but made into an elaborate headdress consisting mainly of braids and spikes around which they were woven. On her muzzle a pair of dainty glasses was perched and the eyes twinkling behind them were the only feature that seemed to have survived the passage of time unchanged. Those slitted venomous green eyes were the same as I remembered them – malicious and predatory. Strangely enough, the queen’s head wore no crown; the only attire Queen Chrysalis had was a cherry-red comforter hanging from her shoulders embroidered with… pink hearts.

My gaze shifted to a figure at her side, an equinoid. It was a mare judging by her slender frame and feminine muzzle, an artificial pony of an unremarkable design with only a few features making her unique. Her mane was a projection, much like that of Trixie, resembling flames in both color and appearance – a red mass with streaks of yellow. To match those bright colors her body was painted in a fiery orange. From her forehead a long horn jutted towards the ceiling. If not for that horn and mane, that equinoid would have looked like she belonged at a construction site with those garish warning colors. However, something about her was making me take a better look. With my eyes widening I realized it wasn’t just an equinoid. In the gaps between her plating I could see energy bubbling, dark shapes with cyan edges pulsing inside her body. Those eldritch shadows were her body. She wasn’t an equinoid at all – I was looking at another Former One.

Quickly glancing at my side I saw that Queen Chrysalis’ entourage had caught not only my attention. Luna was staring at the Former One with a shocked and pained expression, at which she was answered with a stare full of disdain. However, she was promptly diverted from it by Trixie.

“Sunset? Sunset Shimmer? You’ve survived?” the astonished looking shadow asked taking a few steps forward the ‘throne’.

“As did you,” the mare called Sunset Shimmer replied with a cryptic smile.

That short exchange made feel a new wave of distrust towards Trixie. How did she know Queen Chrysalis’ servant… advisor… whoever Sunset Shimmer was? The obvious answer was Sunset being another of the Coven’s witches. The fact that her name sounded familiar was only solidifying that theory.

And what was the matter with Luna? At first I thought it was only Sunset’s appearance that surprised the former Princess, but now I wasn’t sure if it was that simple.

However, these thoughts were for later (if there was a ‘later’, of course) and my attention returned to the white figure reclining at ease on the chair.

The rest of my company, excluding Rainbow, had their eyes glued to the queen of the changelings as well. Only the captain of the Royal Guard simply gazed ahead with an impassive stare. For her it wasn’t a novel sight after all.

We were here. What now? Was Queen Chrysalis going to throw us into a prison or simply kill us where we stood? There was not a single changeling in this room, but I couldn’t be sure. They could be invisible or… could changelings imitate inanimate objects? The room was full of furniture.

Rainbow said Luna and I were assets, but what did that mean? Not long before I was ready to confront Queen Chrysalis about our fates, she cleared her throat – Luna and the Former one were still locked in a staring contest. However, the queen’s lungs seemingly refused to cooperate and what was supposed to be a brief distracting sound turned into a barely restrained coughing fit. Sunset Shimmer levitated a glass of some syrupy liquid from behind the easy chair, but the changeling queen waved it off, continuing to battle with her respiratory system. Finally, she seemed to be able to breathe again and, wasting no time, spoke in only a slightly raspy voice:

“Though I never expected it to happen, it is nice to see your face again, Twilight Sparkle,” Queen Chrysalis addressed me, accompanying her words with a wink. I only frowned in response, refusing to play along with her jabs.

“And I’m glad to finally meet you...“ she paused, smiling widely, flashing two rows of still razor sharp fangs, “...Luna.” I instantly tensted, failing to read the changeling queen’s body language. Was it a threat? Was she taunting Luna the same way she tried to goad me?

Luna herself remained perfectly calm, more interested in the Former One, it appeared – she paid her one more glance, this time bearing an expression I struggled to read. Was it guilt?

“Ah,” Queen Chrysalis chuckled, the sound dying in her throat as it threatened to become another bout of coughing. “I see you recognized your old friend and my loyal advisor, Sunset Shimmer.”

It was clear now that Luna wasn’t just perturbed by Sunset appearance, she knew her personally. That Former One wasn’t just Chrysalis’ advisor, there had to be much more to it.

Sunset nodded her head in a reserved bow at the mention of her occupation and somehow she made it look like she was doing it for everypony but Luna.

“I’m sure you have many questions to ask,” Queen Chrysalis said looking directly at me, then addressing the others as well continued, “and while I’d very much like to entertain you with my company I’m afraid there are pressing issues at hoof calling my attention right now.”

At those words Rainbow took a few steps forward. It must have been about the confrontation with the police we had on our way to the palace, and I had a suspicion that it might have something to do with the reason why the convoy to pick us up from the Badlands was delayed.

“However,” the changeling queen spoke again, “that doesn’t mean you are not welcome in my home. Each and every one of you will be treated as the dear guests that you are, provided with a room… and more.” Flashing a toothy grin that instantly made me tense she practically purred, “Geode Gleam.”

Red Wire was weak on her hooves, but it didn’t stop her from scowling at the mention of her real name, something she kept to herself and those close to her.

Queen Chrysalis lifted her gilded hoof to point at the doors at the opposite half of the room, a set mirroring those we entered. They opened to reveal duo of changelings flanking two ponies. It took me a single glance to guess that they were from the Edge, despite them looking much cleaner than any of the industrial zone’s occupants – there was grim determination written all over their faces, a constant alertness in their postures. They were two mares, of a very similar constitution, though one of them was quite older than the other. Another thing that consolidated my theory of them being the Edge dwellers were the prosthetic hind legs of the younger mare. The older one had various little augmentations all over her body and was blindfolded; judging by the amount of badly healed burns and scars covering all the visible surface of her muzzle, it wasn’t a fresh injury.

I began to wonder who these two poor mares were when I heard Wire let out a strangled cry before instantly bolting to them. It took me a moment to remember Flower’s words and realize that it was Hollow Druse and Roche Dust – Wire’s sister and mother, respectively. It took me another moment to understand the next thing that was going to happen. I took a hasty step forward and prepared myself to drag Wire back with my magic, but suddenly a midnight blue hoof clad in black armor stopped me, clicking softly against my breastplate.

Confused, I whipped my head at Luna. With her eyes fixed on the heartwarming scene of reunion unfolding before us, she leaned closer to me, whispering, “They are real.” She spared me a single glance, looking as confused as I felt. What were we witnessing? Queen Chrysalis went as far as to find Wire’s parents and bring them to her Hive. Was it really a sign of good will or another of her vicious lies?

The changeling queen returned my attention to her as her voice rang over the frantic sobs of the happy filly and her family, “Clandestine Delight.” My pegasus friend instantly froze in place, looking like she was about to faint. “As a Moth you will be treated as the hero to the Swarm you are.” The queen’s words were accompanied with a deep grateful nod, reminding me that Del’s previous job was sustaining the Swarm. I wondered how Delight was feeling about that or if she even realized how important she was to the Crown’s survival.

“Trixie Lulamoon,” Queen Chrysalis proceeded with the next pony, “your services to the Crown and city are not forgotten.” A schematic, slightly tattered and singed at the edges floated out from somewhere behind the great chair, held by the crimson glow of Sunset’s magic, black and cyan bubbles appearing along the edges of her magic aura. It must have been the blueprint of Pepper Mercury’s gun. “We recovered and repaired your mechanical body.”

“Twilight Sparkle,” the queen looked at me, her face mockingly pleasant. Then she measuringly glanced all over my body and with a smirk said, “I believe you would like to visit our mechanics’ workshop.” I scowled, but couldn’t really deny her words. Nor was it an offer I could turn down, I suspected. Then, in a strange voice, she added, “You may find something there you might want to fix as well.”

I blinked in confusion, failing to grasp the meaning of her words. What was that supposed to mean? However, it seemed the changeling queen had nothing more to say to me and directed her attention to the filly by my side.

“Tin Flower,” Queen Chrysalis declared making the filly nervously look at her. The elder changeling let a short laugh, giving me a brief smug sidelong glance. “A friend of my friend is my friend as well.” That was an outright provocation. I glowered at her, but said nothing, stubbornly refusing to play her game. Tin Flower, either unaware of my ‘relationship’ with the murderer of my teacher, or failing to understand what was transpiring before her eyes, was giving me befuddled glances, unsure if she should be happy about being considered a friend of the Crown.

Only one pony in the room remained not graced by the personal attention of changeling queen. A Princess no longer, who for five hundred years had hunted the Swarm with a deadly intent. Luna stood defiantly, almost at the same eye level as Queen Chrysalis, gazing at her with a calm, resigned expression, awaiting her fate. Yet I could see the silhouettes in her sinister mane appear again, empty eyes glowing with white, surfacing like moons in that sea of ink, only to drown moments later, but for the time of their brief appearance their stares were locked on the chitinous occupant of the lavish great chair.

“As for you, Luna…” Queen Chrysalis smiled in an unreadable way, with her jaw full of fangs, it was impossible to say if it was a malicious grin, or a futile attempt to look benevolent. Though I actually doubted it could be the latter, with the queen’s innate false-faced nature, it could be just a mask she wanted to wear. “You may not be a Princess anymore, but I think you may still want to maintain a regal appearance. I also trust you to treat my children fairly.”

“Children bear not the sins of their parents,” Luna levelly retorted without hesitation. The emphasis on the word ‘sins’ was subtle but unmissable, showing that Luna didn’t forget.

Even Queen Chrysalis was surprised with how fast the tenebrous alicorn’s reply came, but if she was intimidated by it, she didn’t show that. “Rationally,” she replied in the same neutral voice, very slightly squinting her eyes behind the glasses. “Our parting will be brief, there is much for us all to discuss,” she added, letting her look linger on Luna, Trixie and me for a few moments.

As soon as she finished speaking, both sets of the doors opened, at least a dozen changelings accompanied by a few equinoids of strange design coming inside in organized lines, separating into pairs approaching each member of our group. One of the equionoids approached me, a mare by her looks.

“Lady Sparkle,” she addressed me in a melodious voice, giving me a sudden and quite low bow. Surprised, I took a step back. “Allow us to guide you to our workshop.”

At first I was taken a bit aback with the unexpected level of respect that equinoid showed me. Of all of us, Luna and I were the only ones approached by equinoids. She looked just as uncomfortable with the way she was treated by the duo of artificial ponies, but as I met her eyes she gave me a reassuring nod, which I returned with a deep frown. It seemed that we both had to play Queen Chrysalis’ game for now. The others were already being led by changelings, save for Flower who was stubbornly refusing to be persuaded by a pair of changelings to leave with them. Taking a wary glance at the equinoid who was still waiting for me to give her a response, I quickly trotted to Flower.

“I don’t want to go with them, Twilight,” she loudly whispered to me as soon as I was within earshot, looking at the two changeling mares with clear concern, if not fear. They were unarmed and met both Flower’s reluctance and my hard stare unflinchingly with the sheepish smiles.

My first thought was to accompany Flower, because unlike Wire she had nopony to do that, nor was she an adult like Delight. I already opened my mouth to placate her and voice my desire to keep her company, but snapped it shut before any words could leave my microphone.

I cast a glance at Queen Chrysalis – she was grinning at me ‘innocently’. I couldn’t be absolutely sure, but I highly doubted she knew about how Flower felt towards me and the conundrum it was creating. If I were to show any affection towards Flower right here and right now, it would show she was important to me. That would make her my weakness, something the vile queen could use as leverage against me. I neither wanted to give her such an opportunity, nor did I want Flower becoming involved in my feud with the Swarm.

So, after hesitating for a few moments I replied, “You need rest and medical attention. I need some help as well.” I really hoped my momentary indecision would go unnoticed and my answer wasn’t too heartless, though it was obvious it wasn’t going to be received well anyway. In all fairness, I couldn’t pass up a chance for the longsuffering filly to finally receive professional help. Not to mention she hadn’t eaten for days.

“I can fix you in no time,” Flower quickly retorted, looking at me with pleading eyes. It was heartbreaking, but I met her look with as much sympathy I could allow without looking concerned for her more than for any other in such a situation.

“I know. But as I said you need to think of yourself now,” I patiently explained. Flower looked like she was on the verge of crying. I wanted to add that I would check on her as soon as possible, but that would be a lie. Trying to understand what was going to happen next between Luna, me and the changeling queen was my top priority right now, sadly.

I watched how the pair of changelings guided Flower away, all that time she was looking at me with wide eyes until she disappeared behind the doors. I turned to spare Queen Chrysalis another look and was met with a strange, almost disappointed expression.

Waiting a little so we wouldn’t meet again in the passage to the elevator and thus give Flower a chance for second thoughts, I returned to the equinoid mare patiently waiting for me.

“Lead the way.”

After a short ride on the elevator the equinoid mare proceeded to guide me through the passages of the Sky Palace. The clean and well-lit corridors tiled with white plastic panels were no longer deserted. Changelings trotted around, stood near the walls chatting or walked into and out of the countless doors leading to rooms full of terminals and other busy-looking chitinous inhabitants of this place. I was barely paid any attention, though I had gotten my share of curious looks. It seemed the changelings weren’t fully aware of who I was, since none of them appeared even remotely worried upon seeing me. Or maybe they were that confident in me being harmless.

The inner life of the Hive didn’t look like I expected – it was more like a normal office building on a gigantic scale, from what I could judge. And though I was interested in what the Swarm was doing, my curiosity was directed to my mechanical guide.

The Archivarius claimed to be ‘the Crown’s property’. Now that I knew the truth behind the Crown, his strange appearance was justified – he looked more like a changeling than a pony. The equinoid walking in front and to the right of me, however, had no resemblance to the race of shapeshifters, yet she was unlike any equinoid I had seen so far.

Her plating was made of neither steel nor plastic – it was porcelain. Bearing a very slight yellowish hue and glistening with varnish, the plates of white ceramic were covering her delicate frame like armor made of polished bone. No. Like she was a doll. In the gaps I could see a gleaming silver skeleton braided with neatly arranged incarnadine tubes and wires, giving the impression of flesh clinging to her metal frame. She had no mane or tail, though there was a silk veil, red with a few purple stripes, hanging from her ears. All those features were giving her a peculiar, not-so-mechanical appearance, even a bit eerie, but there were two things that really stood out for me.

Above her serene face, a creepy one-piece porcelain mask, a horn protruded. It was a part of the mask, actually. Judging by the pale rose pulse of magic coming through the indentations of its spirals, it wasn’t just an aesthetic feature, but a functional part of her body. It was the second time I had seen an equinoid capable of casting magic (the Former Ones not counted) and it raised the question of how it was possible. In theory, equinoids shouldn’t be able to do that, since they had no connection to Harmony, no cutie marks. Speaking of which, on both flanks of the mare the number seven was painted black in a gothic font.

Frowning in confusion and deep thought, I kept stealing glances at her. Soon enough she, noticing that, commented, “Is something wrong, Lady Sparkle?”

“No,” I snapped and immediately felt a pang of guilt. She wasn’t a changeling, most likely she was just a slave of the Swarm, their property – a fate no different from that of many other equinoids in Canterlot. Her downright weird look shouldn’t be a reason for me to treat her without respect either.

“I’m sorry,” I said. There was no reaction from the equinoid mare (which was no surprise considering that her face couldn’t move), save for a glance she cast at me. I took it as a sign that my outburst was forgiven. There were many questions I wanted to ask her, but there was only one I should start with: “What is your name?”

“Seven,” she readily replied, turning to me and slowing down a bit so we were walking side by side. Though her face could show no emotion, her voice was very rich with subtle intonations. It was hard to explain, but it sounded like she was shyly smiling.

However, her strange voice wasn’t what made me stumble, but the fact that she recited the number from her flanks. It felt wrong for an intelligent being to have a number for a name, but I decided to refrain from commenting on that. Suddenly it came to me that I didn’t know how to make small talk with Seven without just starting to outright interrogate her.

Fortunately, Seven rescued me from the potential reign of awkward silence, “You seem to pay close attention to our appearance? Is there something bothering you, our Lady?”

“Yes,” I answered without a thought, and stumbled again, embarrassed by my own reply. I instantly tried to correct myself, “I mean, no!”

I let out a deep sigh. The cat was out of the bag, the best I could do was try to divert the topic to save at least some of my dignity. “Why do you refer to yourself in the plural? And why do you call me Lady?” Those weren’t the questions that bothered me the most, but it was better than outright asking Seven why she looked like she came out of a horror story.

“Because that was your gift to us, Lady Sparkle,” Seven said with a reverent bow making me stop and gawk at her. Fortunately, we had just made a turn into what seemed to be some sort of a service passage.

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” I asked, looking at her in confusion. I had no memory of having anything to do with that. Unless… And then I remembered something Trixie told me when I met her...

“Lady Moondancer created our bodies, but the Prime Code was written by you alone.”

Of course. My ‘other’ life lasted for quite a while after the accident. Trixie mentioned both my invention of that mysterious Prime Code and the community of runaway equinoids, already existing by the time she returned back to Canterlot, presumably not that long after my and Moondancer’s demises. So artificial life and intelligence were created within my lifespan... and presumably by me.

But there was something not quite making sense, the part about the Prime Code. Trixie mentioned that Moondancer hadn’t shared it, and if her capture took place after the failed Transference attempt, then ‘I’ took it to the grave.

“When did this happen?”

“It was part of a deal between the queen and Moondancer shorty after you…” Seven stuttered, ”your disappearance, our Lady.”

Seven’s answer made me blink, befuddled. Her words weren’t making sense again, or following Starswirl’s wisdom, I had the wrong information to begin with (which could be the case with Trixie).

“I thought Moonie refused to give up the Prime Code!” I exclaimed in frustration. Mostly because I had many new questions now regarding the time Moondancer spent as the Swarm’s prisoner and what deal she made with the queen. The one she made for me, to make sure I didn’t go down in history as a failure.

“And she never did,” Seven perked up. Or at least I imagined she did, it was impossible to tell. “It is all here,” -she pointed at her head with her hoof, porcelain softly clicking against porcelain- “neither changelings nor Sunset Shimmer have the magic to decipher it.” Those words sounded like they were supposed to be accompanied by a triumphant smile, but unsurprisingly the ceramic mask didn’t move.

With that, Seven continued to trot onward, leaving me to follow her as she navigated the tidy, yet sparsely lit corridors. It was not that I had nothing to say to her, quite the opposite, nor had Seven seemed to have enough of my conversation. I just needed to digest that information.

From what I could understand of Seven’s words and my own observations, Sunset Shimmer was what I would call a dark mage, probably very similar to Trixie. But more importantly, with changelings innately being ‘dark mages’ (I really needed to reevaluate my approach to that matter), none of the Hive’s inhabitants were capable of interacting with equinoids’ AI enchantments. But that was contradicted by the existence of Archivarius, unless he was one of Moondancer’s equinoids, just with another body model. There was also a question, and quite an interesting one at that: what was different about the Prime Code?

Answers to those questions would surely deepen my understanding of the modern world and those areas of magic which I tended to avoid before, but had a chance to study now, with how prominent what I called ‘dark magic’ had become in my absence. The important questions were about the past, what had happened and what it meant for my current situation.

“What happened to Moondancer?” I quietly asked after we walked for a while. We were still in the technical passages, going deeper into the Hive from what I could tell.

“I’m sorry, our Lady, she passed away many years ago,” Seven replied in a sorrowful voice, hanging her head.

That moment we emerged into a wide walkway opening into the empty space within the Hive. It was an entire level designed as a terrace of sorts, even with some potted vegetation, which was the first time I had seen any decent flora since I was ‘resurrected’. There were a few changelings walking around, but not too many for such a gargantuan structure. From what I had seen so far, it didn’t appear that their population was large, at least not big enough to justify how enormous the Sky Palace was.

Coming closer to the railing, I cast a glance down, taking in rows of the other terrace levels and whatnot. Finally, my gaze stopped at the bottom of the well and I was met with the lovely sight of a beautiful garden sprawled under the reflected sunlight. It looked a little strange, however, with the vegetation being alien and exotic, not like something that once grew around Canterlot or within the Royal Palace grounds. Since it was quite deep, the amount of light reaching the outlandish plants was limited, which was only adding to an eerie mystic appearance, making me think of the Everfree Forest. There was one thing spoiling that garden’s beauty for me. I didn’t notice it at first, so seamlessly it was blending into it, but in the middle of the thicket, an ugly spire of unmistakable twisted architecture was rising, likely an entrance to the underground parts of the Hive.

Seven was patiently and silently waiting by my side as I studied the interior of the Sky Palace. Eventually my thoughts returned to Moondancer, myself and those peculiar equinoids. I didn’t expect Moonie to still be alive by this time. I didn’t want her to be. Spending centuries as a prisoner and slave of the Hive? That made me think of those who, due to their nature, weren’t able to avoid that fate. And I wasn’t talking about Rainbow Dash.

“It is so sad that our legacy has to serve as the queen’s toys,” I lamented with a deep sigh, turning to Seven. She was a marvel of magic and technology, not manufactured, but crafted, with heart put into it. I knew that Moonie couldn’t do it any other way, even if she knew she was doing it for the enemy. Seven might well have been one of the very first of her kind. Strange as it may sound, the first children of the new life Moonie and I brought into this world. Only to become slaves, the fate that would be shared by any other equinoid.

“Toys, our Lady?” Seven gasped, her voice incredulous. “We are treated by the Swarm with as much respect as any changeling. The magic bestowed by Lady Moondancer allows us to do things no one else in the Sky Palace can.”

If Seven was offended by my suggestion she didn’t show it (not that she was very capable of such a feat). And needless to say, she took me by surprise – I didn’t know what to think. On one hoof it was pleasant news to know that at least somewhere equinoids weren’t treated as property, on the other it felt wrong and outright painful to realize that the changelings of all creatures, not ponies, were doing that.

After the initial shock passed, I realized that I had something to think about, and it had nothing to do with the way equinoids were treated. “Bestowed? You don’t have your own magic?” That would answer some of my previous questions and create more. (Who gifted the magic ability to Alnico Sermon, then?)

“Most equinoids don’t,” Seven explained with mixed sympathy and pride in her voice, “they can only release stored energy. But the last of Lady Moondancer’s inventions was a spell she created with the help of Sunset Shimmer, allowing us to use the arcane powers of this world the same way unicorns do.”

“Are you talking about dark magic?” the question left my proverbial tongue before I could even think. It wasn’t quite what I wanted to say, but the meaning was still there. The only way to grant an equinoid the magical ability of a unicorn was by either doing what Flower did (which wasn’t the case here, it seemed) or to do what Trixie suggested in the recording. I had trouble imagining Moonie agreeing to the use of unconventional magic, though on second thought, I could understand. She wasn’t me, and she did agree with Trixie on resorting to her ways in the case of the Transference failing.

“Dark magic?” Seven asked, tilting her head. I imagine that would have been accompanied by a blink, but those crystal doll eyes just kept being focused at me with their dead stare. In a perplexed innocent tone she added, “What does that mean, Lady Sparkle?”

Unlike Seven, I did blink, the metal shutters scraping against my skull, reminding me that I needed to visit a mechanic.

For her, an equinoid who was created by a unicorn and then spent her life in a place full of those who weren’t bound to Harmony, the definition of magic was different: all kinds of arcane practices were the same for her. It was a concept both fascinating and frightening. Seven wasn’t bound by the rules of Harmony or morality. For her, it wasn’t the source of power that defined it, but the goal.

“Nevermind…” I muttered, leaving that thought for later.

As I took a few steps away from the railing of the terrace, Seven took it as a sign to continue leading me to the mechanic's workshop.

After using a couple of elevators and traversing a few more dark technical passages and more brightly lit corridors full of cheerful changelings we came to some sort of technical wing of the Sky Palace, with walls lacking the white panels, covered in uneven dingy plaster instead. Changelings clad in working suits, carrying tools and boxes hurried around. A lot of passes opened into large rooms taken up by industrial looking machines, filled with sparks, smoke and sounds of intense work. The smell of hot metal and oil, and acrid chemical aromas wafted from the tight halls between the workrooms.

A stray thought visited my mind as we passed an intersection with a wide tunnel presumably leading to a hangar. I stood on the terrace for quite some time, but while I had seen dozens of changelings, I had yet to witness another equinoid. The same applied to this section of the palace, a place where I expected to see equinoids more than anywhere else.

“How many of you did Moondancer create?” I inquired, hoping that Seven would hear me over the din.

I doubted it was many. Creepy or not (really, what was Moonie thinking?) those models must have taken a lot of effort to create unless Seven’s current appearance was a cruel joke of the Swarm (but if she was truly treated with respect, it meant that changelings had a very odd sense of beauty, though with their queen looking like a piece of cheese…). It was reasonable to suggest at least seven of them being created. I saw at least two others approaching Luna.

“Twelve, our Lady. All interlinked.”

“Interlinked?” I repeated, confused about what it could mean. But before she answered I was starting to guess.

We. Our. Us.

“As long as we are near each other we can share what we see, hear or think.”

Singular cognitum. They had the Unity the equinoids of the Church talked about. At least it worked as it was foretold, even if the Machine Goddess was still absent from it. The legend was more true than it should have been. For a moment I felt a rush of panic: what if Trixie was wrong again and there was a goddess trapped inside the palace? But I probably would have known it by now, unless...

“Can the others hear me now?” I asked trying to keep my voice calm. My eyes were glued to the floor as my mind raced. All Trixie said was pointing to me being the best candidate for that title, but Trixie said many things, not all of them as truthful as they should be.

“Of course, our Lady,” Seven replied to me with mirth in her voice as we were making another turn. Suddenly her voice was quite a bit further away and sounding a little different. “We waited for this moment to come for so many years.”

I raised my eyes and found myself in the middle of a spacious workshop, full of tools of all kinds, innumerable spare parts hanging from the walls.

Surrounding me were eleven equinoids, all looking roughly the same with their porcelain faces and intent unmoving stares directed at me. Seven was taking place amongst them. One of them, a stallion model standing the closest to me proclaimed loudly:

“We have waited for you, our Lady!”

At those words, all twelve equinoids bowed to the floor, touching it with their muzzles producing a one singular perfect click.

My jaw worked with soft whirrs, my microphone dead in my throat as I didn’t know how to respond to that. It felt like I knew exactly what I was seeing and still had no idea. It felt right, and so very wrong at the same time. I had so many questions and so many answers.

Finally, I was able to find my voice.

“How did you know I would return?” I stammered watching as twelve heads rose up in unison to look at me. Suddenly I could see that they had an expression on their faces, a serene reverence forever etched into their features. Each and every porcelain mask was a bit different but bore an unmistakable resemblance to the statue in the Church of the Machine Goddess.

“The equinoids in the Tunnels may be wrong…” the stallion who made the proclamation spoke again, taking a step towards me.

“...In many things…” smoothly, without a pause a mare continued in his stead, voicing the words from a single mind.

“...But they got something right…” another mare took a step forward, her voice with a slight crackle and the ceramic mask bearing a long crack stitched with fine silvery brackets.

“...Something which Lady Moondancer promised us…” carried on a stallion with a number ‘four’ on his flanks.

“...With her last breath…” Seven came closer to me as well, her voice full of sorrow.

“...Our Mother is going to return,” they all finished in perfect unison.

It was like my encounter with Braze in the Tunnels all over again, except… it wasn’t. Superficially, the situation was the same: an equinoid (or a group of them in this case) called me a progenitor, but it was different in every other aspect.

This time, I had no chance to avoid making a decision. These equinoids knew as much as I did, even more. There was no way I could talk my way out of it. I doubted I could just walk away from them if I wanted – I had nowhere to go. It would be like trying to run from myself anyway, and that was something I had learned the hard way not to do.

Probably the only thing similar to how it was with Braze was the fact that I still wasn’t sure what to think about all that. Especially, how I was supposed to react to being called a mother. It was returning me to the very thoughts I had at the final steps of my journey to the Badlands. I had never thought of having a family, I wasn’t sure I was ready or capable.

Unlike then, this wasn’t a choice of if I wanted to adopt a filly or not.

In fact, there was a time I was called a mother, because that’s what I was to Spike. I was even involved in his birth (his hatching, that is) in a similar, indirect way. I raised him as my own (though not without the help of Princess Celestia and my own mother), despite the obvious differences between us. However, Spike becoming my son wasn't actually a choice either, not that I ever regretted it. The fact that my son was now trapped in both the Tunnels and his madness wasn’t helping my confidence.

He was still there… I hadn’t forgotten about him, it wasn’t a promise I was going to break. There was even more: my fate was yet to be decided, but for now I had no pressing matters or any plans, the current situation excluded. It was my chance to finally keep my promise, and though I hated to admit that, Queen Chrysalis could be of help. But it would have to wait for a little longer…

My thoughts returned to the dilemma at hoof, a very intricate one at that, since it was very different from my foster care for Spike or the possible parenthood I could offer Tin Flower. There was much more to it.

The runaway equinoids, or any others for that matter, had some relation to me. I now knew that I was guilty of creating the core basics of artificial intelligence, the crucial difference between a machine and a living being. Over the many years, the initial enchantments could have been modified and changed, not to mention that apparently the AI of any Canterlot equinoid was different from that of these twelve. The difference between the Prime Code and the regular AI enchantments was something I had yet to learn, but it wasn’t what mattered right now.

In the case of these ‘first-born’ my direct involvement in their creation was undeniable. Moonie was never as proficient with developing enchantments as I was, she was all about their practical application. The enchantments granting the sentience of those before me had to be exact copies of my own work. And though they might have been used without my discretion, I was responsible for their existence, for I allowed it.

If I were to accept these equinoids as my responsibility, as my children, what was stopping me from doing the same with the others suffering in Canterlot? Would it be my first decision as a mother to favor some of my kids over the others?

It wasn’t about motherhood, however. Braze, whose body was manufactured many years after ‘my’ death and whose enchantments were derived from my work, maybe even substantially changed, was as much my creation as muffins baked by Pinkie were the creations of the pony who came up with the recipe in the first place. Except equinoids weren’t muffins. They weren’t even advanced dolls or machines. They were sentient beings, and whoever allowed that sentience to be reproduced was responsible for their existence and exploitation. If I had destroyed the enchantments, for them to never be known, then the equinoids as they were now would have never existed, been enslaved or suffered. But I didn’t. I brought artificial life into this world.

So when these twelve called me their mother, it wasn’t a question of accepting my relation to them or not. I was a parent of every equinoid, though not in the traditional way. The question was if I was going to admit my responsibility for creating the artificial life and act accordingly.

Twelve pairs of lifeless eyes continued to stare at me, and in sudden clarity I understood why Moonie chose them to look so. I remembered her having a doll, whose name I couldn’t recall, an antique peculiar thing of a very old design once belonging to her grandmother and then passed down the generations until it was my childhood friend’s turn. It looked pretty much the same, with its porcelain yellowed by age and polished by countless hugs of little hooves, with its glossy eyes and perpetual expression of love etched into the amiable muzzle. Taken out of context and animated, it was bound to share that eerie appearance with the living dolls gazing at me. Yet, it was the most prized thing in Moonie’s possession, a dear friend equal to me, especially when I decided to choose books instead of a tea party. For Moonie, it had all the emotions she wished it to have, because she loved her doll. That is why these twelve didn’t look much different from a doll – they didn’t need to. Moondancer loved them, because for her they were her children as well.

Now it was my time to love them and care for them as only a mother could.

It was still impossible to read the expressions on their faces, but somehow they became alight with joy the moment I took the first step towards them. I was right about Moondancer and her doll.

The next thing that happened was disappointing, however. In one sudden motion the twelve of my first-born deeply bowed. I rushed to the closest one, a stallion with the number three on his flank; putting a hoof under his chin, I lifted his head.

“There is no need to do that…”

“But how else can we show you our love, Mother?” Four quietly asked in a lost but respectful voice.

I opened my mouth to answer, but realized that there was none. The answer I sought wasn’t in a verbal form. Hooking my hooves underneath the surprisingly light body of Four, I gingerly enveloped my metal limbs around him.

I shared an embrace with each of my newfound children, a gesture I found odd and yet comforting, a peculiarity of that sensation caused by acutely realizing that they were my own, a family, but in a way different from what I was used to. Their ceramic bodies felt so fragile in my steel hooves. They returned those hugs readily, clutching me in their hooves. Some whispered gratitude in my ear, thanking me for all things: my return, my love, their life. Some sobbed happily, though no tears wetted the floor.

After that precious moment came to an end, they wasted no time and guided me to one of the workbenches, where I lay down, surrendering to their ministrations.

The moment I was lowered on the metal table, a dam inside me broke and I unleashed a ceaseless and unrelenting barrage of questions, though my children seemed glad just to talk with me, even if it was only sharing some trivial information.

The Twelve, as they called themselves, once had real names, but Moondancer removed that memory from their minds, for she believed Queen Chrysalis wasn’t worthy to share such a close bond with them. It was a sentiment I wholeheartedly agreed on, but all things considered it shouldn’t be an issue, now that I had reunited with them. However, the Twelve politely declined my offer to come up with new and actual names. Over so many years they had gotten used to the numbers.

Another thing that I promptly learned was that the Swarm had very little interest in implementing particular technologies, namely mechanical limbs and such. The only two cases when the changelings needed to do something with mechanics were maintenance of the Royal Guard’s armored suits (though there was a team of changelings who could do most of the work themselves) and the recent condition of the queen. Because of that, the Twelve had to care for each other, and thus had amassed quite a collection of spare parts along with many years of experience.

With deft movements, Moondancer’s and my children (weird as it may sound) began to dance around me joined by a vast variety of tools aimed to disassemble my wrecked body. The bent and torn plates, barely having any lavender paint remaining on them, were the first to be levitated from my sight. They were followed by the grime-coated skeletal limbs, saved by those plates from direct damage, but driven almost to their breaking point by the onslaught of sand sneaked inside them. But the Twelve didn’t stop there, more and more parts of my body continued to be removed from it, all worn down and looking miserable. I was sure it was Moondancer who had created my body initially, just as I was sure that many parts of it were replaced without considering the possibility of it serving any other role than a librarian’s assistant. Thus, it had held poorly against the trials of my adventures.

Though it was impossible for me to see myself, I could imagine how I must have looked, now that almost everything was stripped from my core: nothing more than enchanted warm crystals wired together and pulsing with my consciousness as cooling systems washed the heat away from them. Even my eyes were gently plucked out in the end, leaving me only able to hear and talk.

I talked a lot. As in the case of Seven, the rest of the Twelve compensated for their lack of expressions with the richness of their voices, each unique and different. Eleven, a mercurial mare, with her high and slightly raspy voice was the most talkative of them, reminding me of Pinkie with how enthusiastically and fast she talked.

“Oh, the difference?” Eleven echoed my last question. “It is simple.”

All my inquiries led to the question which had been bothering me since I first heard the term: the Prime Code. Now that I was talking with those who had it as their ‘soul’ I could finally learn all the answers.

Eleven’s voice faded away for a short time as she walked away from me to get something, but then she returned. “The Prime Code connects every equinoid into a network answering to the Nexus, which allows an exchange of information within the network.” I refrained from any comments, trying to understand what it meant. Meanwhile Eleven continued to list the differences. “There are also some minor features like increased efficiency, the ability to combine units within the network for increased productivity…”

“What is your Nexus?” I asked, finally able to comprehend how the Unity worked. “Or who?”

“Oh…” Eleven hesitated.

“We don’t have one,” the reply came in another voice, a low hollow tone belonging to the stallion with the number three emblazoned on his rump. After a pause filled with the hum of some device, he added, “Lady Moondancer rerouted the spell so each of us is both Nexus and unit.”

That explained why they exchanged the information so freely. The original Unity wasn’t supposed to be one singular cognitum, but rather numerous consciousnesses answering to one: the Nexus… the Machine Goddess.

“Why don’t the other equinoids have it?” I could come up with quite a few reasons why I wouldn’t want the equinoids to have it now, but I was interested in ‘my’ and Moondancer’s old decision.

“It wasn’t finished, our Mother,” Five chirped from somewhere behind me, her voice soft and joyous, ”the Nexus-unit link requires too much power to handle large networks.”

Interesting. I had another reason completely why I wouldn’t have allowed the Prime Code to be used. Even if it didn’t have that limitation I couldn’t imagine a single pony or equinoid in Canterlot I would have trusted with total thought control over a group of individuals.

“So, a simplified version of the Prime Code was created by you, our Mother, and given to the public,” Eight added, not aware of my ruminations. However, that comment brought my thoughts to a screeching halt.

“Why would somepony give…” I indignantly began, but the words died in my microphone as a wave of embarrassment and regret washed over me, becoming stronger with every passing second.

Why would I act so irresponsibly and give the key to recreating sentience to those who I knew would misuse it?

Because back then I didn’t care. I only cared about those who were dead, I cared about myself. Most probably I did that so the investors would leave me alone, or something like that.

I wanted to curl into a tiny ball and vanish from existence. The weight of what I had done was becoming heavier and heavier, long past the point of it being bearable. That was what Queen Chrysalis talked about. I wasn’t just responsible for creating life, I was guilty of betraying it. The enchantments weren’t stolen from me, nor was I forced to give them up. Every equinoid in Canterlot not only existed because of me, they suffered their miserable fate because I didn’t care enough.

I couldn’t tell if the uneasy silence following my words was caused by the Twelve waiting for me to finish my question or being disappointed in how I had treated their brethren. Nor could I tell how long it lasted; the crushing guilt combined with the lack of vision made time stretch into infinity.

In fact, I was seeing things, and since I had no eyelids I couldn’t avoid the torture I deserved.

Faces. Adamant Smash, Braze, Brass Litany. Even Alnico Sermon. Countless equinoids whose names I didn’t know. Names written on pieces of paper bound to dozens of the crystal shards in the shrine, the broken ‘soul vessels’.

The turmoil inside me reached its apotheosis. At that very moment a sudden clarity came to me. I was wrong.

It wasn’t about taking responsibility for my actions, but answering for my inaction.

It wasn’t about giving the equinoids the love they deserved, but making myself worthy of their love.

It wasn’t about giving birth to children, but caring for them.

I heard the sounds of movement very close to me and in a flash of blinding light my eyesight returned.

The porcelain mask of one of my daughters was filling my entire view, her horn aglow, holding a probe and a screwdriver, her eyes concentrated on my own, but not looking into them. The picture blinked and twisted a few times, its colors momentarily becoming greyscale and then oversaturated. Finally, she took a step back (it was Nine as I could see now) and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

The Twelve milled around me with a whole fleet of spare parts levitated above them. One by one, metal limbs, organs and plates were placed on my body, or rather made my body, because, judging by the amount of parts and what they were, I was being reassembled from scratch. To my disappointment, the same porcelain mask was placed on my skull. Unlike the Twelve, I didn’t have centuries of experience to learn to express all my emotions using only my voice. Since the plates used to protect my wire-covered skeletal frame were the same as the Twelve wore, it seemed that they just weren’t prepared to create a body for any other equinoid but them, not even their mother.

Held under my hooves, I climbed off the table and took a few shaky steps forward. My new body felt amazing, needless to say. I didn’t want to belittle Flower’s work, but this body was just as different from my previous body as that one was different from my very first. The only downside was my new appearance. Not that I thought of the Twelve as ugly, but I missed my lavender coat… and having a face.

As I stopped twirling around, Seven approached me and I felt her magic reach for something inside my body. To my surprise, a moment later it lit up with magical projections! The bone-white plates were shimmering with purple neon, matching the color of my… eh, organic body’s coat. Twelve appeared from my side, a mirror in his magic hold levitated to my face. Face! It had the same arcane illusion, but this one was moving, mimicking a pony muzzle – my muzzle. I tried to frown and smile, testing the projection. It reflected my intended expressions nearly perfectly, with only a slight lag. However, there was a downside, and a considerable one – I could feel only my porcelain ‘face’, not the projections. Without a mirror I had to just have faith in them, and myself, to be able to reflect the emotions I wanted to show.

As a bonus I also had a mane projected similar to Trixie’s. I turned back and was met with another magic image, that of my tail.

And also with the sight of Sunset Shimmer standing in the doorway, leaning on the wall.

“Enjoying your stay?” the mysterious Former One joked, her tone light and forthcoming.

My scowl was my reply. Her being a pony who betrayed Equestria added another level to her vileness as part of the Crown. And there was also the possibility that she was a Coven witch on top of that. Unless she had very good reasons, I had nothing for her but my sincere and utmost loathing.

Sunset was unfazed by my reaction, however. She only smiled, as if she expected it and was glad her guess was right. “No need to answer that question,” she dismissed in a just as amiable tone, then, pushing herself from the doorway to stand upright, asked, “Mind if I steal you for a while?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” I said between my proverbial teeth. What did this traitor want with me?

“You are not a prisoner,” Sunset shrugged, “but I think you would like to see what I want to show you.”

Spending more time with my children was what I wanted, learning more about Moonie and their nature. However, Sunset Shimmer succeeded in sowing a seed of gnawing curiosity in my mind. And though I despised her, that could be a chance to learn more about the Crown and the overall situation, including how a Former One, possibly a former Coven member, ended up in the Swarm’s service.

As I took a few steps forward I felt a rush of air accompanied with the resonant staccato of ceramic against metal. One and Two were by my side like bodyguards.

“There is no need for that,” Sunset commented with a chuckle, “I will return her safe and sound.”

However, One and Two didn’t move or even react to her words. For a moment I considered not heeding Sunset and letting them go with me, but then decided against that. She might be an enemy, but she was acting friendly and it would be unwise to compromise the situation just out of spite, considering that I was in the heart of the Hive. Speaking of which, if something were to happen, it would be better if I was the only victim. So I turned to my entourage and shook my head. They hesitantly backed up, and though their expressions couldn’t betray their emotions, I could feel they were both disappointed and concerned.

The moment my children left my side, Sunset turned and walked out of the workshop, prompting me to follow her.

Looking at a mare from behind wasn’t the kind of view I would prefer, but it was all I had in the case of Sunset Shimmer. It didn’t tell me much about her (which was expected). The only thing to note was that her ‘body’ made of magic looked different from Trixie’s, though I couldn’t get the finer details through the gaps in the plating. Also, it seemed like there wasn’t anything but body inside, so it was more like a set of armor rather than Trixie’s ‘possession’ of a modified equinoid frame.

The halls of the Hive changed into some unremarkable desolate passages which looked like they hadn’t been visited in ages, judging by the layer of dust (which was strange because the rest of the Sky Palace looked rather clean, even the tunnels we used to enter). So, tired of observing grey walls and armoured flanks, I decided to address the owner of the latter as well as the elephant in the room.

“Sunset Shimmer,” I called, “you were one of the Coven’s witches, weren’t you?”

She didn’t hesitate with the answer, “And you were Princess Celestia’s pupil.”

My nose wrinkled. It wasn’t a topic I expected to be mentioned, nor did I enjoy the fact that this mare knew that much about me. On second (and unpleasant) thought, she could know everything about me and more.

“What has that got to do with anything?” I snapped back.

There was a pregnant pause lasting for a few long moments. Finally in a quiet, yet casual voice Sunset replied, “Because I, too, was her pupil once.”

I stumbled, caught by surprise, then quickly composed myself. Yes, sure, and I was the Princess of Friendship. It would have been surprising if the advisor of the Queen of Lies was honest.

“You’re lying,” I retorted with unhidden disdain in my voice.

“Why would I?” Sunset chuckled, again, unperturbed by my attitude towards her.

“Because you are serving Queen Chrysalis, and before you have served King Sombra,” I deadpanned. I wasn’t totally sure about the last part, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed logical. Everything was pointing at that, after all. “And Princess Celestia never mentioned you,” I added the final argument.

“I wouldn’t expect her to, not after what I did,” Sunset answered me with a deep sigh after another pause. “And I never actually served King Sombra.”

I felt myself bristle inside. What did she do? And it seemed my guess was wrong, which was quite confusing. But that didn’t matter.

“So you don’t deny your allegiance to the changeling queen?” I returned to my initial accusation, the part which was more important right now, because, unfortunately, Queen Chrysalis was still alive.

“No,” Sunset shrugged like I was making a big deal out of some nonsense, “she is my friend.”

I wanted to wrap her in my magic and slam her against those drab walls until she was nothing but a metal pancake. The nonchalant way she talked about her treachery was infuriating. No wonder I had never heard Princess Celestia mention her. Who would want to talk about a mare so disgusting?

The way Sunset acted, it was strange she didn’t pat Queen Chrysalis on her back when the insect hag failed to die of coughing in front of us. They were the best of buddies after all, deserving each other. That scene reminded me of another piece of the puzzle I had to address, which would hopefully link it all together.

“And what is up with you and Princ… Luna?” I asked, barely managing to keep vitriol from my voice. Well, keeping it to an acceptable level.

“She is the reason why I’m here.”

Sunset’s answer made me furrow my brows, not only because it didn’t explain anything while making my suspicion true, it was also spoken in a very dark tone, contrasting with the way she talked before.

I waited for further explanation, but instead Sunset stopped.

We came to a widening in the corridor ending with a heavy set of double metal doors. Faded from time and slight corrosion, there were runes inscribed on their dusty surface, glimmering with the trademark iridescence of arcanium.

Sunset approached a small display on the wall and pressed a button, making it come to life and light her face with a green glow. She flicked away dust and printed something on its keyboard, a password, presumably, and with a low groan the doors began to open. Well, one of them at least. Sunset gave the other a push with her magic, but it didn’t budge. Shaking her head, she disappeared beyond the doorway. I trotted after her.

The passage opening from the armored entrance was much wider than any we had traversed before and starkly reminded me of the Tunnels. It was missing their smell (which I wasn’t missing, though) and their colourful inhabitants, but otherwise it was the same arched passes with a grated floor accumulating dirt under the latticework and dying lamps barely lighting the way.

Now that the pass allowed me to do so, I was trotting by Sunset’s side, watching her face contorting in different expressions as she was looking for the right words. Finally, she spoke:

“I was young and stupid, but more than that I was ambitious.” Paying Sunset a glance I noted how profoundly disappointed in herself she looked. She paused, her jaw working silently allowing me to see two rows of ethereal fangs accompanied by a long forked tongue. “Long story short, those qualities led me to have a fight with our former teacher. I grabbed a few magic artifacts and hopped into the magic mirror leading to another reality.” This time it was me looking profoundly disappointed in her, though I couldn't deny that she got me curious. “A few years later, Luna came to me looking for those artifacts because she needed them, and as you can guess, she didn’t bring... the best of news.”

It wasn’t hard to guess what that news was. Luna must have been looking for something to help her to deal with changelings, though I had never heard of any kind of mirror portals being around the castle, which made me doubt the whole story. But I decided not to rush with any accusations before I heard more. After all, being excessively forward wasn’t one of Princess Celestia’s defining features – there were many things she didn’t mention to me until she thought I was ready.

“Princess Celestia and I had a fight… But it never stopped me from loving her,” Sunset continued in a remorseful tone. “There was just no other way, I think you can understand that like nopony else.”

There was a very fleeting moment of sympathy accompanied by a wrenching feeling, but both were instantly snuffed out by my bitterness. Too bad Sunset spat on Princess Celestia’s memory and joined her murderer.

“So I volunteered to go back to Equestria.” Sunset’s expression grew hard and glaring forward at nopony in particular, she snarled, “But Luna, damn her, wasn’t going to let it be so easy for me – I was nothing more than a thief and a failure in her eyes.”

And Luna was right, wasn’t she? Again, I refrained from saying any of my comments out loud, at least until the story was over.

“We struck a deal. I would join the Coven as a spy, and after the war, all my crimes would be forgiven. Thanks to Princess Celestia, my magic prowess was good enough to be worthy of Sombra’s attention, but I was a horse with no name.”

I caught my hoof and almost ended up planting my face into the floor (which would have ended disastrously for my porcelain mask). It never occured to me that Equestria could have spies in King Sombra’s army, it just wasn’t how our military operated. But Luna wasn’t part of our military; she had her own tactics which suited her much better. If Sunset was telling the truth, that is.

My mind began to race, invisible gears groaning as layers of memory were unearthed. I wasn’t as familiar with the Coven as those who had to deal with them directly, but I was still aware of some of the witches – I had to create defenses against their magic. Sunset Shimmer… she was never mentioned as an Equestrian ally in the reports, I would have remembered, but her name was there, in the most earlier ones, but then… it changed…

Stopping dead in my tracks I stared at Sunset Shimmer with a mix of extreme aversion, horror and shock. She just looked at me back tiredly.

“I remember you now,” I hissed when I finally found ability to speak instead of growling. “You were the ‘Demon Mare’!” I yelled, barely able to hold the wrath growing inside of me. “The worst and most deadly witch, who killed thousands!” I roared at her in fury.

A twisted abomination of flesh and magic, a pony transformed into a monster with a hideous appearance reflecting the depth of her black heart’s vileness. Her dark flames incinerated whole battalions alive, leaving only scorched bones on the ground, turning entire flocks of pegasi into clouds of ash on wind. Nothing but char was left in her wake. She was one of the reasons why the cybersuits had to come into existence.

Sunset was looking at her hooves with shame, not like a filly who was scolded for a broken vase, but as somepony who had a full understanding of her actions and deeply regretted them. It wasn’t helping my anger, only preventing me from attacking her. If she didn’t have the decency to look guilty, I would have abandoned any reason.

“Yes, things didn’t go as well as they were supposed to…” Sunset muttered when I stopped looking I like was going to pounce on her and was just sitting, glaring at her, silently seething. Then her voice grew steady and gained an acidic quality, “Luna dropped all contact with me in less than a year after I became part of the Coven. The transformation magic I was practicing had an effect on my mind that wasn’t helping my growing desperation.” She looked at me with a wry mirthless smile, “Did I mention that I was young and stupid?”

I wasn’t surprised to hear Luna going silent. She did that to all of us back then. At least that could be true. But Sunset was making it sound like all those deaths were justified by that and the madness or whatever it was. If she had been doing it all just to pretend she was a faithful servant of the Ebony Warlock, then she clearly overdid it to the point where it couldn’t be forgiven.

It explained, though, why Luna was so shocked. She suddenly realized that she abandoned her agent amidst the enemy forces. That left only one question unanswered, presumably the last part of the story.

“But how did you end up as Queen Chrysalis’ friend?” I asked, saying the last word in the mocking tone it deserved.

Instead of answering me outright, Sunset began to walk away, though not out of a desire to avoid answering the question, but to continue leading me to wherever our destination was.

Sunset didn’t answer me for quite a long time, which we spent trotting in the silence of desolate tunnels. I started to grow impatient and was planning to remind her about my question, but before it came to that, she finally filled the passage with her voice.

“After the war ended I was trying to get into Canterlot and find somepony who wouldn’t kill me on sight.” With a bitter chuckle and a glance at me, she added, “Somepony like you.”

I scowled, unsure if she was right. Very unsure.

“There were a series of ancient tunnels made by Diamond Dogs leading all the way to the Crystal Caves inside Mount Diamond Point. They were already teeming with the Swarm the moment I got into them,” Sunset said with a grimace. “I became Chrysalis’ prisoner and she made me an offer I couldn’t reject.”

We stopped before another set of doors, very similar to those we used to enter this section of the tunnels. Those doors also bore arcanium runes. This time it wasn’t just a password that made the entrance open, but a crystal card serving as a key, a sight that caused a pang of nostalgia to bite at my heart.

As the doors began to moan, resisting rusty rails, Sunset finished in a sarcastic tone, looking me in the eyes, “And as you can see, it worked much better than with Princess Lunatic.”

Now that Sunset’s story was over, I had no need to keep my promise, so I instantly exploded with indignation, “How could you?!” I snarled at her. “She is a monst…”

My words died in my microphone as Sunset stepped out of the way, revealing what was behind her and beyond the doors.

“We are here,” she commented, invitingly motioning with her hoof at the doorway.

A catwalk started right after the double doors. It spanned the chasm of an enormous artificial cave.

Inside of that cave was the Royal Palace.

The days of its glory were gone along with its surroundings. The ivory towers, once gleaming in rays of sunlight, visible from almost any corner of southern Equestria, knew only the blackness of the underground now. Like mold, darkness infused the pristine plaster with a web of black cracks. Tarnished golden spires could no more reflect even the decay of what was called the pearl of Equestria back in my time.

“Why wasn’t it destroyed?” I asked unable to tear my awed gaze from the sight of the deteriorating castle.

The half-crumbled walls, which once had a moat (purely decorative and inhabited by swans back when it still existed) wash over their stone, now had only void sprawling around them. Out of Canterlot as I knew it, only the Royal Palace remained. Part of Mount Diamond Point was visible underneath it, rained upon with debris from the sundered castle.

“Moving the Royal Archives, especially the restricted wing, proved to be harder than it seemed,” Sunset replied, her muzzle scrunched in displeasure. Then in a strange quiet voice she added, “More importantly it serves as a containment area.”

I immediately asked the obvious question: “To contain what?”

Instead of replying, Sunset gave me a sad look, and suddenly I got the feeling that this time, no amount of waiting would lead to her answering me. Passing me, she headed across the catwalk towards the castle’s gates.

Walking upon the palace’s grounds again felt surreal.

It was empty and silent like a tomb. Mounds of fallen plaster, dust and decomposed wood were like barrows near the walls. The moth-eaten tapestries hung limply and forlornly above them like the standards of fallen soldiers. The windows of crumbling galleries were mostly broken, gusts of wind, brought in from the ventilation in the walls of the artificial cavern, carrying stale air sounding like dirges as they rattled shards of stained glass.

It took me some time to understand where we were heading. A wave of dread washed over me when I realized that were walking the shortest path to the throne room.

Why?

The feeling of unease grew stronger and stronger until it reached its crescendo the moment we stopped in front of the sturdy doors leading to the main chamber of the castle. They held strong against the trial of time – oak and gilded steel, lovingly crafted to represent the entrance to the hall of the Goddesses, proved infallible.

Wishing I had a throat to swallow the phantom dryness, I pushed the door wing depicting an alicorn raising the sun. The same alicorn who once held court behind that door.

I was met with the Sun itself.

A surge of panic gripped my mind which felt like it was falling apart. I had to be dreaming, having those nightmares again.

Across the throne room, the cracked and dirty marble, the rotten carpet, a winged and horned silhouette glowing with a brilliant golden light was slowly walking.

Princess Celestia.

I didn’t notice how I called out to her, wept her name. How I ran to her, blindly stumbling, falling and rising again. She turned to grace me with her attention.

Time stopped as I was gazing into her eyes, as I was gazing into the Sun.

And then she turned away and walked to the centre of the room, stopped, staring into the distance, and headed to one of the windows only to freeze and space out in front of a wall. Her movements were slow and mechanical. There was no thought behind them, no life.

It took me a few moments to realize of whom she reminded me. Or what. That body in the Royal Archive housing nothing but a name.

Turning around I saw Sunset Shimmer at my side sadly watching what Princess Celestia had become.

“Is…” my voice failed me and I had to begin again, “Is she… a ghost?” I knew there could be no such thing, but I had no other explanation.

“No,” Sunset shook her head. “A magic echo, an aftersound, if you will,” she continued. “It is no secret that the true alicorns wield tremendous power compared to us, common ponies, but the rules are pretty much the same for them – Harmony limits the distribution of magic evenly for everypony. That leads to alicorns having a lot of energy stored, and when they die, it returns back to where it came. Again, the conduit for magic is limited and thus that stored energy lingers around for some time.”

That was not knowledge I possessed, and at any other moment I would have been delighted to learn such fascinating things. Right now I was having trouble feeling anything but crushing sorrow.

With a deep sigh, Sunset explained, “When the situation started to go out of control, Chrysalis tried to grasp that magic and ‘resurrect’ Princess Celestia, but not only did the magic not return fully, the amount of consciousness it had attached was almost nonexistent.”

So it wasn’t Princess Celestia. It was just… I didn’t even have a word. It wasn’t even the zebric practice of creating spectral family protectors. It was just… the last breath collected after death.

We watched as the apparition made of sunlight climbed the steps to the throne and took a seat, its unseeing eyes fixed at nothingness.

“Why not let her go then?” If Sunset was right there was no reason to keep that magic around. If she indeed loved the Princess like I did, then she would do it just out of respect.

“There is no ‘her’, I just told you,” Sunset shook her head again, and I felt like she was referring not only to the sight before us. “And as for the answer, only Chrysalis has the power to do it, but she can’t come close to this thing. It doesn’t have many memories, but it remembers who killed Princess Celestia.”

All the sorrow I had was gone in a moment, bitterness and scorn flooding back in.

“And you forgave her just like that,” I spat, glowering at Sunset.

It almost seemed that I would indeed have to start flattening her with my magic to get any reaction.

“Chrysalis would never admit it to you, but that was an accident. The whole invasion was a mistake,” Sunset calmly retorted, meeting my glare with a serene gaze. “But she wasn’t doing it for fun, her children were dying from hunger.” Her look hardened. “Would you let yours starve to death?”

“Even if that were true, I don’t believe attacking Canterlot was the only way,” I snapped back with a scowl. I wasn't sure if she was referring to Spike or the equinoids, which itself brought me to an unpleasant thought of him called the Souleater, an issue in itself, especially in that context. It was something to think of later. Anyhow bringing my children into this wasn’t going to get Sunset anywhere. ”Princess Celestia would have tried to help her.”

“She didn’t know that,” Sunset commented with a shrug, “I wasn’t the only one who was young and stupid, you know. And Chrysalis was desperate on top of that.”

It was a very weak argument to defend Queen Chrysalis’ crimes and I was about to object, but Sunset raised her hoof signifying that she wasn’t finished. She didn’t speak outright, however, taking some time to think instead.

“Twilight, you have lived a long life. Aren’t there things you regret?” Sunset slowly said, turning to glance at the statue made of sun rays on the throne. “I could say I regret having a fight with Princess Celestia, but I needed that because I learned a lot from it. But do you want to know what I didn’t need?” She turned back at me, looking at me with a strange expression, a pained grimace, I realized. “You call Chrysalis a monster, but she killed very few.” As my face contorted in wrath, she added, “Granted, they were your loved ones.”

Sunset took a deep breath before continuing in a somber tone, “Right now you are talking with the pony who turned Manehattan into a heap of smoldering ash.”

I swayed on my hooves and took a haphazard step back from her. Being a bane on the battlefield was one thing. It didn't justify the deaths, certainly not the amount of ponies she slayed, but every combatant knew the risk. Trixie said that Manehattan was evacuated, but only partially. It was the most populated city in Equestria. Losing a tenth of it would be like losing Canterlot's population at least twice over. Innocent ponies, thousands upon thousands of them, fillies and colts didn’t know that risk, they weren’t soldiers. Sunset wasn’t a murderer, she was a weapon of mass destruction with sentience, the worst thing that could ever exist. There could be no judgement for her crimes, only bringing her back to nonexistence.

“You told me you weren’t serving King Sombra,” I squeezed out of myself, struggling with horror. The war was over by that time, the Ebony Warlock was already dead. Even if she didn’t know that, she must have realized that massacring the entire city would make an enemy of Equestria for sure. She had already taken pretending to be a witch too far.

“I did it to lure Luna there, I wanted to do something so atrocious that she would regret ignoring me and could do so no longer,” Sunset muttered in shame, but then her voice gained a note of sudden unbridled animosity, her armor bulging, barely containing a body of death incarnate, “She betrayed me, she let me rot as a witch with my only options to either press on as the weapon I had become or to surrender to Sombra!”

Finally being able to overcome my terror, I couldn’t help but turn away from her. Not from fear, but from disgust. How pitiful a pony had to be to come to that.

“So you decided that your life was worth more than the lives of thousands,” I commented not caring to hide the loathing and judgement in my voice. I didn’t want to kill her now, not with my own magic, it would leave a stain on it forever. I needed something like Rainbow’s cannons.

“Admittedly, I didn’t want to die,” Sunset snarked back. Like me, she decided to move on from being nice. “As a traitor, it would have been most unpleasant. You can ask Trixie what Sombra did to her,” I perked at that. “And speaking of which, I couldn’t compromise her position, because who do you think gave her an opportunity to betray him?”

Suddenly, the situation changed. Not radically, of course; Sunset was still beyond abominable in my eyes. Maybe she did something good, but it was lost compared to the holocaust she brought to Manehattan. I refused to admit that it was worth it. There must have been a way which wouldn’t lead to that many deaths.

“Anyhow, I ended up the only one regretting things,” Sunset stated clearly. “I learned nothing there. I just killed thousands because I didn’t know better,” she admitted in resignation.

“That doesn’t make you less of a monster,” I tiredly barked at her, unable to feel more hatred than I already did. Nothing would turn ashes back into ponies. Remembering where it all began, I added, “Or your queen.”

“I think you are missing the point here, Twilight,” Sunset said shaking her head.

“Which is?” I asked her with a sneer.

“Though there is no forgiveness, I regret what I did.” I scoffed. ”Chrysalis regrets taking Canterlot, both times.”

Sunset came closer to me, something I didn’t appreciate, and looking me right in the eyes with a hard expression, said, “The question is: am I talking to a pony who regrets dooming countless sentient beings to be slaves and outcasts just because she couldn’t care less, or not?”

The accusation took me aback. My mouth started to work soundlessly.

“That’s… that is not the same…” Wasn’t it? Surely, that couldn’t compare to killing countless ponies, right? “I couldn’t know…” I couldn’t have predicted how society would act. But deep inside, I knew she wasn’t far from the truth.

In all my righteousness I forgot about my own deeds and now the overwhelming sense of guilt was returning. With horror I began to realize that in fact there was not that much difference between Sunset and me. Guided by her own feelings, by the hate of a certain alicorn, Sunset Shimmer turned a city into a mass crematorium. Twilight Sparkle, consumed by grief for another alicorn, threw an entire nation to the wolves. In essence, it was pretty much the same crime.

There was nothing I could say to her. All that hate and disgust felt hollow and I understood that I was just in denial. My feelings were never directed towards her.

Very softly Sunset spoke, putting her hoof on my shoulder, “I’m not trying to say that you are worse than me.” She smiled in a mirthless way. “I just want you to understand that we’re all on the same page. Sadly, you will learn that there are many others like us.”

I remained silent. I couldn’t even bring myself to look into her eyes.

Sunset held my shoulder for a few more moments, then her hoof fell onto the ground.

“I need to check something out,” she softly said. “I imagine there are a few places here you’d like to visit.”

With that she was gone, leaving the tombstone carved from sunlight alone with another monster.

The golden glow of Princess Celestia’s magic, the only thing remaining of her in this world besides memories, washed over me. It didn’t feel warm, yet I was burning. The guilt was like fiery coals inside of my heart, ignited by Sunset Shimmer the way she set Manehattan ablaze. It wasn’t that she opened up my eyes – I was well aware of my misdeeds before we had that conversation. She made me fully realize the scale of what I had done and where it put me. That was why I dared not ascend the stairs and come closer to Princess Celestia’s magic remains.

She gazed at me from the deteriorated, lustreless throne with an empty expression. According to Sunset, that magic still held some memories, like that of being struck down by Queen Chrysalis. Perhaps it also remembered that there was a mare she should have remembered. I didn’t expect her to; after all, I let her down. That was why I didn’t deserve to take a place near her. It wasn’t about my teacher being killed because of me. I was told numerous times, I couldn’t have known. Nopony could.

For many years, more than a decade, she taught me. Magic was, in fact, the last thing I learned from the Sun Goddess. Her guidance was supposed to lead me only one way if I was capable of following: to become a better pony. That was where I failed her. It would be easy to try and justify my mistakes: I was overcome with grief, I was caught in a war… But in the end it all came down to the choices I made.

The gust of wind coming through the broken window carried a cloud of ancient dust, making it pummel my porcelain body with a soft angry rustle as I happened to be in its way. That reminded me of the place where I was and Sunset’s words. Where could I go here? The whole castle was but a ruin. Apparently, and ironically, the Royal Archives were still in one of the palace’s wings, but I had no need for them anymore. I had learned more than I wished. I continued to list in my mind the various parts of the castle which could possibly be worth my interest.

Princess Celestia’s room? It would be both heartwrenching and futile to visit it, since I doubted anything useful was left there in hope that Twilight Sparkle would miraculously return from the dead one fateful day.

In a sudden flash of insight followed by acute sorrow I realized what Sunset meant. With detritus scrunching under my heavy hooves, I rose from the floor and, giving Princess Celestia’s remains one last glance, headed towards the exit.

Just as the rest of the castle, The Royal Gardens poorly withstood the flow of time. The soil, once fertile, was nothing but cracked dry dirt rivaling that of the outside world. The only disturbances of the desolate landscape were half-rotten stumps left after the most sturdy trees, poking from the barren earth like monuments to their defiance. With the only sun being confined to the throne room, everything else had long withered and died out in the near darkness of the cavern.

With nothing obscuring the view, it wasn’t hard to see a mausoleum, a patch of white shining amongst the fulvous remains of the formerly lush orchard. The lack of any vegetation, especially maze-like hedges, absolved me of any necessity to carefully choose my path, allowing me instead to make a bee-line to the last resting place of my teacher.

It always felt wrong to call it perfect, because it wasn’t a word one wanted to use when describing a grave, but if it wasn’t the tomb of the pony I had cared for the most, I would be able to admire it.

The mausoleum was made of masterfully chiseled white marble (now tarnished to a dingy grey) forming a delicate canopy held by elegant columns. In better days, the stone work could be mistaken for clouds, so airy the structure was. Princess Celesia always loved the sky.

Beneath the canopy painted with beautiful murals, a casket resided, containing the body of the Goddess. Laden with enchantments it was probably the only thing in this entire cavern which wasn’t dirty or damaged. Even the golden plaque gleamed as bright as the day I put it on that coffin.

There was a mournful melodious sound as my porcelain hoof reverberated when it slid across the ‘beloved teacher’ part. The sun in my heart kept shining forth indeed, and I let it blind me, though it wasn’t to blame. It felt wrong to come here after all I had done.

Something caught my eye, and I blinked. Not from tears, I was still denied them and there were more than enough shed at this very place, by me, no less. Though, part of me still claimed that there would never be enough.

Two pairs of flowers lay at the base of the monument on which the casket was put. Moonflowers, Princess Celestia’s favourites, and two exotic blooms I couldn’t recognize. It wasn’t hard to guess who brought the first pair here, the one who must have known Princess Celestia personally. But the second pair… those plants didn’t even belong to Equestrian flora.

The mysterious flowers weren’t the only thing nagging on the back of my mind. There was something wrong about this place. Besides the garden being a hideous sight, especially for me, who had spent so much time in it.

Suddenly I saw it. In the shadow of the mausoleum a piece of marble protruded from the ground, something that wasn’t there before. I stepped closer to it and froze when I was able to discern a few details. Like a six-point star surrounded by five smaller stars.

My world became that gravestone, my eyes glued to those five lines, reading them over and over until they stopped making any sense. It was only then that I paid attention to the marker itself.

It wasn’t artistically done, far from it. The words were painstakingly and neatly carved into it along with my cutie mark, but the stone itself resembled untreated slab… I wasn’t even sure it was marble anymore. More than that, the surface was covered in nicks and scratches, especially near the epitaph, as if somepony had tried to write something over it. The fact that none of those desecration attempts were discernible suggested that the tombstone was enchanted similar to the casket resting nearby. But the fact that somepony tried to do it was concerning.

The initial shock had passed, but my grave was still making me feel extremely uneasy on many levels. Firstly, it was my grave, not something a pony expects to see. But if I were to ignore that, the marker itself was exceptionally strange. It looked like it wasn’t made by a sculptor, but by a pony who had little to no relation to such an art. It had no date of death. And that last line: until we meet again.

I would have bet my hoof (if it meant something, because I could easily replace my body parts these days) that the tombstone was made by none other than Moondancer. Everything was pointing at that. And who else could do it? My parents must have been gone by then, my friends were either dead or in hiding, Luna was lost in her insanity. The only question was: who left those marks? Who hated me so much that they wished to make it an unmarked grave? The equinoids? Unfortunately, those who could answer that question were likely gone, though I could try to ask Sunset.

Surprisingly, there were two flowers lying beneath the last words my friend left me. Not exactly the same exotic blossoms, but still outlandish ones. Who was that mysterious pony honoring the memory of the long dead?

That couldn’t be the Twelve; for them I was never gone. Nor could it be Sunset; for her I was a rival at best, and she would have brought ‘normal’ flowers. Rainbow had moved on a long time ago, and she wasn’t a mare to do such a thing, no offense to her.

...Chrysalis would never admit it to you, but that was an accident...

...Aren’t there things you regret..?

My magic picked the flowers from the ashen soil and I twirled them taking a closer look at the delicate colorful petals.

I was no better than Queen Chrysalis, maybe even worse in some regards. She never abandoned her children even once, after all. She was ready to die for them. If I was capable of regret, why wouldn’t she be? The first time we met, she was the desperate mother of a starving swarm on the warpath, young and inexperienced. I wasn’t met with the same mare in the lounge hours ago. It would be cruelly ironic if the Queen of Changelings wasn’t capable of change. Just as ironic as that the only flowers at my grave were from the one who I once called my worst enemy.

My eyes returned to the gravestone with my name on it.

Change. Changelings weren’t the only ones capable of change.

In the ground beneath me rested the bones of the mare who was Twilight Sparkle. Who hated Queen Chrysalis, who was irretrievably lost in her grief, who was enslaved by the faces of the dead: Princess Celestia, Princess Cadence, Shining Armor… Rainbow Dash. I wasn’t that mare, I had changed.

Yet I was Twilight Sparkle.

A very recent memory resurfaced in my mind.

Another Twilight Sparkle, who came to Dodge City looking for her friend. A naive and happy mare, barely not a filly anymore, who was infatuated with the Goddess, who knew neither the bitter ashen taste of war, nor the searing pain of loss which never goes away. I wasn’t her either, I had changed.

That Twilight Sparkle was my past, the remains underneath me were Twilight Sparkle’s future.

Then who was I?

“Twilight?” Sunset’s voice called from behind me, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have to go.” Sparing her a glance, I saw her standing at a respectful distance, looking like she was about to leave.

The flowers were returned to the last resting place of Twilight Sparkle, and I left the graveyard of two, joining Sunset, who instantly began to hurry away towards the exit. It seemed we had places to be.

“The Council will gather soon,” Sunset finally commented after I stole her more than one curious glance, “the queen asks for your presence.”

I couldn’t help but grimace. Though my feelings regarding the changeling queen were beginning to change, it would still take some time before I was glad to see her. Right now, so soon after visiting my teacher’s grave, I was especially not eager.

“The council to decide Luna’s and my fates, I presume?” My question came out in a tired tone. It was something Queen Chrysalis warned me about when we parted, so such a meeting was expected. On second thought, it would be better to resolve as fast as possible, so I’d at least know what would happen with my life now.

“You wish,” Sunset chuckled wistfully, “The fate of Canterlot will be decided there.”

Author's Notes:

This chapter is quite long and for those who don't like long chapters I have bad news. The drafts for the next two chapters are finished with the first being almost 11k words long and the other 18k. There will be some balancing between them (some sections moved from one to another), but still. Then there is chapter 20, which is already 10k words and I haven't written even half of it. There is a chance it will be split in two chapters.

Anyhow, though I have less free time now, I use almost all of it to write. Don't get it as my desire to be done with a story as soon as possible, however. The reason I hurry so much is because I want the final chapters be good. So I will try to finish them quickly and consult with my editors. In the case I flubbed the ending or anything else, I will have to rewrite a lot and I don't want to compromise my posting frequency.

And now I go back to chapter 20. Hopefully I will finish a huge chunk of it today, if not the rest of the chapter.

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If you notice any mistakes sneaked in through the editing, let me know.
I hope you enjoyed reading this story so far.
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