---

Bon Bon had been quiet.

She intently listened as I described my time in Hjortland. There were particularly painful memories within that I glossed over, feeling a surge of sadness from within as I skimmed the more gruesome details of Hjortland’s Palace.

Throughout the recollection, she interrupted me only at specific intervals to ask certain questions; ‘Why were there Jaegers in the city, so far away from the fighting of the frontlines?’ ‘Why were thousands more Changelings there than predicted?’

Of course, she expected answers to these questions. Answers that I provided through my testimony. She gave me several chances to explain, and she deduced alongside me that the Changelings were hiding something of importance inside.

Nopony in this room would’ve ever guessed that the Changelings would use foreign cities to help aid in researching top-secret projects of grave importance.

Indeed, looking back on it in hindsight, the whole day seemed pre-ordained to be FUBAR. But despite this, we were successful in following the paper trail. Thanks in no small part to the Olenian Resistance within the city.

A pang of sadness welled up inside me.

They helped shelter us from certain death when the time was needed the most. They gave us a plan of action, and tools needed to succeed.

They gave us medical aid and we gave them information in a fair exchange. And during that exchange, a mutual plan of action was created.

And in that plan of action, we fought side-by-side to achieve a common goal.

And how did we repay them?

Silence.

Complete indifference to the Olenian plight. It wasn’t until Equestrian tanks rolled down the countryside of Olenia in the final months of the war that the fighting truly ended for the Olenians. And even then the scars would remain for years, if not decades.

Even then, the grudge held against us would remain.

Even then, the pain of betrayal left a deep scar.

Digressing from that, we eventually got to the point where the fighting ceased in the Palace. Then the search effort began.

Up until this moment, Bon Bon had carried an aura of stoicism and indifference. She was like a stone wall in her complexion, steadfast and sturdy.

But upon mentioning the basement to her? And from what we found within? Her stoicism gradually dissipated.

“The Bomb was never there,” I eventually finished, “but we did find something else. Something not as destructive perhaps, but just as important.”

“Such as?” Bon Bon pressed with the scribe next to her scribbling furiously.

“There were blueprints. Schematics of an engine that was supposed to be an upgrade from its predecessor. From what we could gather, the engine was for something called ‘The Aigaion.’”

Bon Bon’s brow raised just slightly.

“... Aigaion?” she repeated in curiosity.

“That was the name of the project. From what I remember, they were using Olenian workers to engineer something the Changelings could not accomplish independently.”

“... Magitek Engineering.” Bon Bon spoke to herself, eyes glued to the paperwork in front of her as she scanned the pages. “The Olenians had some of the best magitek engineers in the world, capable of fusing magical crystals with their esoteric properties to power machinery more efficiently than any other fuel source. The Changelings tried to replicate this but had limited success. They lacked one thing the Olenians had in droves.”

I leaned in slightly.

“It should go without saying, but... How do I explain?” Bon Bon mutters. “You are aware of the Magical Leylines of the world, right?”

I nodded. It was something everypony was taught at an early age.

Equestria, and indeed much of the world, would not have the magic that its people enjoy every day if it weren’t for the Leylines.

These are sort of ‘Vortexes’ for lack of a better word, where Magic in its most raw form and capacity is fed to the world so that the world can give back freely to its people. As the people relish this privilege, the energy they release from day-to-day menial spells is fed back into the Leylines.

It is in this state of equilibrium that every Unicorn can enjoy utilizing spells, every Pegasus can enjoy weather manipulation with free flight, and every Earth Pony can tune and harness the earth itself.

Myth has it that there are physical locations of these Leylines, but the general understanding of their existence is more treated like how the atmosphere exists. It is a matter of how we live rather than where we live.

Not sure how it works with other creatures, though.

“... Every deer in the world, no matter if they are Olenian or from any other continent, is also in tune with these Leylines.” Bon Bon continued as if she were printing my thoughts.

“They may not be able to manipulate the environment around them like ponies can, but they can change how they create things.”

I titled my head. “Change... how they create things?” I repeated.

“The Deer, by nature, is a creature of balance. It is capable of creativity and artisanship the likes of which the world has never seen. Artisans create beautiful artifacts, and architects can construct an awe-inspiring Arcopolis. But the other end of that spectrum is destruction.

“It is said by Olenian Seers that ‘Magic turns a warrior into a berserker.’ The Olenians blessed their armor, their weapons, their longships; everything. And I’d wager they still know how to do so with modern-day weaponry. Everything they created for war was made to the best of their ability, enchanted with the finest runes the world had seen.”

There was a brief quiet between us, save for the sound of pen scribbling from the scribe.

“... I doubt the Olenians were willing to be cooperative about working with Changelings, however.” Bon Bon mumbles to herself.

Not every creature has as much ‘love’ in their energy as you ponies do.

Marja’s words repeated in my head.

Sometimes, they don’t need harvesting from Deerfolk.

“So the Olenians were systemically purged, either through slavery or through extermination as you stated.” Bon Bon read off a paper. “... It would explain the mysterious absence of civilian life.”

… And if that’s the case, what do you think happens to them?

A shiver ran up my spine.

“But that doesn’t help us in the slightest.” She frowns. “It might help explain how they were able to engineer the bomb, but that doesn’t help us discern where it is. All you gave us was-”

“Aigaion, yes,” I interjected. “I probably gave you information that you already know, yes."

"... What do you mean?"

I paused.

"... The-" I stopped myself. "Okay hold on, timeout, let me ask you this, can I?” I leaned closer, hooves still bound.

"... One question." Bon Bon is permitted.

"Did you guys never know of the Aigaion until just now?"

An uneasy, awkward silence overtakes both Bon Bon and the Scribe next to her.

"Oh sweet fucking Celestia." I groaned. "You mean that- wait, so hold on-"

"I said one question-"

"Oh no no no, I'm getting warmed up now." I spoke with a half smirk, my neurons flashing like lightning as my reflexes gave me another question.

“When did you assume I would know where a fucking Nuclear Bomb would be when I already clearly stated that I never found it in the entirety of the war?!”

"What are you-"

"No no no, really ask yourself this: do you even have an inkling of an idea of what we are dealing with before you abducted me and Night Light like goons? Because I think you are bullshitting me at this point!"

The outburst left them without an answer, Bon Bon in particular had an acrid stare that could shatter glass. Even the normally emotionless scribe sitting next to her seemed uncomfortable being next to her.

She stared evenly a stone-walled face of resolve staring back at her, my teeth gritted with my frown.

“You claim that I am going to help you find it, and we have been at this for hours! Hours, and still we haven’t gotten close to the outcome you wanted! I’m starting to think you don’t know anything about this damn thing!

"When I first got here, I was told by you that I saw something 'BIG!' And yet you mean to tell me that you never knew about either of these supposed superweapons existence until just now?! For both the Nuke and the Aigaion?"

"That's the fucking point! We need to-" Bon Bon shouted back.

"YOU KNOW JUST AS MUCH AS I DO!" I screamed back.

The Scribe had long since stopped scribbling, trudging cautiously away from the table instead as Bon Bon remained still.

“Why the fuck are you still questioning me if that is the case?! Don’t you think that I would’ve told you by now where it was if I saw it?! Why is the weight of the world thrust onto MY SHOULDERS?!"

My screams, finally, made her eyes blink a couple of times, causing her brow to furrow over them.

“... Why?! Why do I and Night Light have to suffer through this?!” I asked.

That same question again. The more I asked it, the more impossible it sounded.

It felt like I had been trapped in here for an eternity, and yet it was only a few hours.

“WHY?! Do you have a fucking answer for that?!”

More silence. My throat was starting to rip at the seams from all the screaming. I had run out of things to say anyway.

Bon Bon seemed to be at a loss for words as well. Her eyes were unusually glassy for a split second until she gave a hard blink. Tears? Rage? I couldn’t tell. Maybe both.

“I'm sorry.”

“... Pardon?”

“... What?” Me and the scribe asked simultaneously, dumbfounded at both her tone and choice of words.

“... We’re done for today. You are right.”

Now it was my turn to give a hard blink.

“I am… I am realizing how... fucked up this all is. How dumb and opaque this all is turning out to be."

She takes a deep breath "Look, I will be honest and transparent with you. Right now, you are right. We don’t know jack shit. And we thought you would help us, but this isn’t working. But you are the best bet we got, Sunshine.”

"Why? You never answered my question."

"Because all of your squadmates are dead, Sunshine."

The way she announced that, it was as if she was regretting it in real-time. A small, but noticeable hitch in her tone made me sense that something within her changed.

She didn't want to say this. But now she has to.

"What?" I inevitably asked.

"All of your squadmates that were with you since Vanhoover? The ones you fought with all throughout Equus since then? They are gone! ALL of them."

There was a noticeable hitch in my throat now, too.

"... That is-"

"Not possible?" she interjects, pulling out a single piece of paper from the manilla folder. "Brass Screws; Killed in Action in Vraks. Rain Drop; Missing in Action in Olenia, has not made any public appearances since, pronounced dead. Morning Dew; Missing in Action in Olenia, body was later found washed up on the Elk Shoreline, pronounced dead. Pumpkin Patch; Killed in Action in Hjortland." She drops the paper. "I could go on, but see for yourself. Surely you remember some of these."

The paper stretched before me. The names of everypony I served alongside with. For years, they were the closest thing to friends I had. each of their names are written in black ink, with their fates written in Red.

Killed or missing. Gone either way.

I was even more confused, but a silver bullet of realization pierced through all of the fog.

"... I'm the only one left?" I look up to Bon Bon.

She nods. My eyes are suddenly wet with tears as my chest threatens to convulse with a choked sob.

Composure forbade it, though. I blinked the tears back inside and took a deep breath.

"My condolences for your loss." Bon Bon spoke with sudden reverence, head bowed and eyes closed for a few seconds.

The Scribe, wordlessly, followed suit.

"As I said, I am sorry. You are the only one left. I should have told you in advance, but... I don't really know why I didn't."

"So... what does this mean, then?" I was afraid to ask.

“It means you are done for today. We will send you home with your partner.”

“... You’re letting us go home?” I asked, daring myself to be hopeful.

“For tonight, yes. I-” She cuts herself off, “We need to rest and get our heads right if we wish to continue this. As well as your companion.”

“... So,” I asked, somehow feeling myself even more irate than before, because…

“You are willing to let us go now, while a Nuclear Bomb is running amok somewhere out there, after all that time wasted? And you’re somehow okay with that?”

“No,” she answers swiftly, “I am not okay with it. But there is a thing called the Equestrian Law. I’m morally obligated to follow it. So far I failed.” She sighs bitterly. “As much as it may help us, we cannot force you to stay here against your will without a right for an attorney or without plausible evidence.”

More silence. The Scribe had long ceased to record everything going on, instead listening intently. Bon Bon contemplated deeply for a few short moments before taking a deep, reassuring breath.

“... We will put you under House Arrest. That way we can still make sure you can show up back here again. Tomorrow, we will resume with a different approach in mind.”

“Tomorr- You mean I have to come back?” I asked with indignance.

“It’s tricky…” She scratched her head. For a moment, there was a small glimmer of… something, in her eyes.

Regret? Guilt? Doubt in herself?

“You are under arrest so to speak. But while it is called House Arrest, we will not deprive you of your liberties. We only wish to question you.”

I tilted my head back in confusion.

“You will not be able to leave the premises until we say you can, and we can lift the arrest once everything is concluded.”

“… No catch?” I asked cautiously.

“Only the one where you have to show up again tomorrow when we visit your home in the afternoon.” She states atonally. “We will inform your partner the same thing. Both of you will return home.”

That sounds too good to be true.

“Something tells me that it isn’t going to be that simple and easy for me.”

“It is.” Bon Bon retorted quickly. “As I said, the only catch here is that you and Night Light come back tomorrow after we both put our heads in the right places. Then we can get to work and, hopefully, end this madness once and for all.”

It was tempting.

It was so very tempting to just concede to the offer. And truthfully, there wasn’t any other incentive for me to stay or continue at all. Everything that Bon Bon said, while maybe a lie, had an air of truth to it.

I would go home and rest for the day, but the consequences of so would mean that we were binding ourselves to this age-long goose chase until it was over. There really wasn’t anything wrong with the idea.

So why do I feel so… guilty? For accepting this?

Maybe it’s the fact that we are letting a nuclear bomb off the hook for who knows how long, and for goddesses know what else. Maybe it's the fact that after everything we went through, I feel a moral obligation to not rest.

I cannot see me staying here any longer, however. I just don’t. I am physically exhausted, emotionally drained, and mentally fatigued. Each Synapse in my brain is flickering me incoherent images and thoughts.

Only one of those thoughts was lucid enough for me to retain it.

Night Light.

“... Okay fine. Fair enough.” I relented. “I’ll wait for you tomorrow.”

“Good,” she simply says, picking up the loose pieces of paperwork and photographs to stuff back into the Manilla folder before turning to her Scribe.

“Let the jockeys know that we are letting them go home and that they should relay the order to Grim Hooves.”

“Yes Ma’am!” the Scribe diligently affirmed, opening the door to pass the message on to the two guards holding the door. They gave a brisk nod as one of them departed. The Scribe followed suit, leaving Bon Bon and one more guard behind to watch me.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“When they are ready, we will escort you back to your chariots.” the last guard spoke atonally as he trotted behind me to loosen up my bindings. Finally, my joints and muscles creak and pop in a relieving pain. A sigh escaped my lips as I felt my body finally relax.

“I’m uh… sorry.” the guard suddenly apologizes in a low tone.

“I-it’s fine. Thank you.” I answered, admittedly not expecting a reprieve from my episode earlier.

You’re free.

The thought had passed by my frontal cortex and left just as quickly as it arrived.

… But will it last?

---

The ride back to our home was awkward and draining.

Me and Night Light enjoyed a brief embrace from one another after reuniting. I waited for her outside the building and soon made our way to the chariot assigned to us. Escorted by the agents from S.M.I.L.E. all the while. Soon, we found ourselves wrapping wings around one another as we trotted and flew our way back home.

She looked fine enough but was concerned immediately with the bruises on my face. Anger flared for a second until she realized nothing could be done. A quick lie of me ‘spitting in the agent’s face’ deterred her from inquiring further, though she was not happy about me.

Not that she had a good reason to begin with. Except maybe for us being together.

I didn’t know what else to say or do besides wait patiently for us to go home. The sky was painted pink as Celestia’s sun was slowly setting across the west. Soft mountains and hills threatened to block her light any minute now. Soon, the night chill would set in. And ponies would retreat inside.

I shuddered as a cold gust pierced through my coat. It felt like the chills were here already. Then again, we were rather high up. I looked down and saw some small hamlets and villas emitting soft smoke from their chimneys, billowing away from a cozy fireplace.

My mind travels. It pictures a scene of a filly cuddling in a blanket, close to the fire as she sips on a cup of Hot Cocoa. The father is asleep on the couch in a nap, and the mother is busy tidying up the house. It feels cozy, it feels peaceful.

It’s everything I wish I was feeling right now.

I found myself staring at the picturesque scene in my mind’s eye for a while, until I noticed Celestia’s sun dip below the horizon. The chills seemed to worsen almost immediately. Shudders turn to shivers.

I looked back at Night Light, who was doing the same thing. Looking out to the shadow of the planet that threatened to smother the land in its darkness. It creased high up into the aethers until the stars themselves seemed to sew themselves into the tapestry of night.

Seamlessly. If the sky were trees, this is what cross-sections would look like.

Luna’s Moon rose gracefully from the east behind a pillaring mountain, its looming face now glowing in a palish moonlight. The lights from windows of small huts and cabins flicker on sequentially, like the stars that formed from the cosmic dust above without a trace of a presence to linger on. Almost as if they were ethereal.

Almost as if they were figments of my imagination.

Figments. Lights. Memories.

Memories of the past.

They flicker on and off, like stars in the night. And each of them carries a pain that I wished were snuffed out.

Starving ponies.

Bashed skulls.

Faces of shock and sorrow.

Betrayal.

Loss.

Atrocity.

My eyes drift down to Night Light. She looks back at me with worried eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I don’t know.

“I’m fine.” I answered quickly. It wasn’t a lie.

But you know she doesn’t believe it to be the truth.

Yes, thank you brain. The eyes affirm that mental suspicion. They looked tired. And disappointed.

She was always good at reading my lies.

“We’re five minutes out!” The flyer guiding our chariot called out. Night Light nods.

A soft kiss on my forehead made me hard blink.

“... You know you can tell me anything, right?”

… Fuck.

I fucked this up badly, didn’t I?

You sure did Sunshine.

Shut up brain.

“I promise I won’t judge or get mad, or anything.”

Now who’s lying?

Both of us?

I said shut up.

She looked on, expecting me to answer.

Shit.

Try talking about the ponies who kidnapped you.

Yeah. It’s clearly their fault. It would provide closure for both of you.

And you can get right back to forgetting.

… What part of ‘shut up’ did you not understand?!

Relax. We will go away soon. Don’t listen to the other one though.

The fuck? Why?

You give… Radical. Ideas.

Fair.

Look, only a few seconds has passed. She can wait patiently. Just talk about the agents. Find common ground first.

“... I don’t like them,” I muttered to myself.

Mostly in reference to my brain rather than the ponies. But Night Light seemed to have interpreted the latter.

I rolled with it.

“Something about those ponies when they were interrogating me made me feel… uneasy. Like I was being played like a puppet for them, or… something like that.”

Not convincing.

It was your idea.

Fair.

“I don’t like it either,” Night Light acquiesces. But her head was looking off into the distance as she answered that.

Then there was another glimmer. A spark of another emotion in her eyes.

Like a lighthouse at sea. It shines a light into the depths of her eyes, revealing the contents beneath their murky and mysterious depths.

And beneath the bags under her eyes, the small movements of her irises, there was another sensation there.

Pain.

A deep-seated pain carried over for years, to abyssal depths unfathomed.

“Did they hurt you?” the words flow out of my mouth without a neural command. Instinct ebbed and flowed into my cadence.

And she recognized my recognition. Mostly out of shock.

“No, not physically.” She answers truthfully. No evidence of bruises or welts indicated otherwise. “Did they really restrain you during your session?” she asked carefully.

A cold sore rests gingerly upon my cheek as it hurts to twiddle the gums of my cheeks or to flex my mouth muscles. But it wasn’t too bad otherwise.

“Yeah, a little bit. I had another panic attack.”

Liar.

“Except this time, I was more… violent.”

The last word made my throat crack a little.

She can see through you too.

Thankfully though, she didn’t press the subject further. It was a silent trip for the last few minutes after that. It wasn’t until we arrived at our home and departed from the chariot that the flyer reminded us of what awaited for tomorrow.

“Yes yes, we get it, we’ll be waiting.”

The words once again flowed without any command for them to.

I need sleep. Badly.

The chariot took off and sped away towards Canterlot once more. Me and Night Light then turned our attention towards our humble abode and retreated inside.

It was warm. It was still in the air around us. It was home.

And yet.

You should not be here.

You should be dead.

I looked towards Night Light trotting towards the windows, getting one last peek at Celestia’s sun as it was setting down further.

I then heard the faucet of the sink run a little as I began to slowly trot upstairs. The voices grew louder still.

You know now why you chose to forget. You know you don’t deserve her.

Despite all you sacrificed. Despite all you lost, you still have her.

Despite your FAILURES, you still exist.

Lucky you.

I turned away, tears pricking the bottom ducts of my eyes and spilling onto my cheeks as I ascended the stairs monotonously. The steps were heavy and hollow, devoid of devotion to composure or form. And still, they were carrying me up the steps one hoof at a time.

“Sunshine?” Night Light called back to me.

The tears streamed freely now.

My eyesight was blurry and my vision swam. I found the door to my room off of tactile feel alone, and quickly paced to the bed as my composure finally collapsed.

Sobs.

Cries.

Screams.

Let it out. Don’t bottle it up.

The pain of the past was channeled into a roar, my voice screaming into a cloud pillow as it muffled the sound.

Just as quickly as they haunt me, they soon pass.

This too shall pass.

The screams morph into sobs. The pillow and my cheeks are wet with tears now as the clouds around me begin to darken somewhat.

A weight presses against my back as my face is buried in the sheets.

It is soft and warm. Like a heavy quilt as feathery wings and slender hooves surround and cradle my being.

Night Light gently lays on her side as she spoons me from behind, cautiously so as to not startle me.

The tears continued from there, and they wouldn’t stop. Any previous thoughts she had are discarded as a priority for me.

There is no judgment in her presence. No hint of curiosity to rub salt in the wound.

There was no hint of authority.

There was only a forlorn affection. A need for comfort.

A desire to provide closure.

And I relished it. I saw the tint of clouds lighten up barely as I stayed motionless for a little while.

I found the courage in me to look up at her.

Her jade irises stare back in patience that I wish I had.

I couldn’t. I didn’t want her to see the bloated, runny mess of my face right now. It was too much for me at the moment.

But she didn’t mind. She only had love to give.

“Are you okay?” She finally asked, as gentle as a caring mother soothing her crying child.

I still don’t know.

Her hoof cups my chin, forcing me to look up at her. And, again, her beautiful emerald eyes reflect integrity and care back into me.

This time I couldn’t look away.

“Feel better?”

No.

“Yeah, a little.”

Liar.

“Sorry. I haven’t had a breakdown like that in a while.”

She gives a small smile only I would see.

“It’s okay. I understand.” She gently reaffirms me. Her hoof stops supporting my chin to cradle my head and give another soft kiss. I buried her face into her mane, carefully to not ruin it with my face.

“Do you want to talk about it.”

No.

“Just…” I started, contemplating a little. “... Just don’t leave me again. Please. Don’t leave me again.”

Coward.

The desperation of my voice choked out of my throat as it tightened to the diameter of a straw. More tears threatened to flood the waterworks again as I held back choked sobs.

Night Light started gently stroking my mane, back and forth.

Sleep takes me soon after I hear her words.

“I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

Coward.

---

“Make it two please?”

“Twenty Bits.” The Earth Pony clerk replies in a coarse tone.

I fish the money out of my saddlebags and count the individual coins out. Twenty Bits slide in a disheveled pile atop the counter.

“Fine then,” he replies again, turning around to reveal his cutie mark. A watering can, pouring moisture atop freshly plowed soil.

Two paper bags of healthy Carrots plopped atop the counter after the clerk counted the bits and finalized the purchase.

“Thank you.” I gracefully exited, stuffing the Carrots into my Saddlebag.

“See you Sunshine,” he bids goodbye, “have a good day.” There was no smile on his features when he said that.

Taking off now freshly loaded in the saddlebags with various vegetables, I turned around to see the Market Square of Ponyville one last time before returning to Cloudsdale. It was as busy as it ever could be, but more so than I could remember. Ponies and Griffons alike were walking across the paved dirt roundabout that the stalls circled around, surrounding a statue of a pony holding the Equestrian Flag in the center of it all.

It seemed bustling enough. Many of the ponies I grew up with from my days of youth had either moved on or passed away. But there were some stubborn old few, like the clerk. He knew my father growing up, and took a liking to me from an early age. He is perhaps the oldest soul from old Ponyville who is still living in the town today.

Ponyville looked more or less the same growing up. It never seemed to change, and yet was also always changing at the same time. It seemed paradoxical, but here it was. Living proof otherwise.

Living proof that Equestria not only survived The Great War but thrived after it.

I looked at my watch and it read 11:18. Looking up at the sky, the sun was setting rather low on the horizon. Maybe Celestia was particularly lazy today?

I shrugged. Didn’t matter. I had to go home anyway.

… Except.

There was one more place I needed to go while I was here. I wanted to see if it survived.

I flew down towards the old part of town where the old Golden Oak Library used to be, now replaced with a memorial of the tree and to those who died during the Great War.

The monument itself wasn’t what I wanted to see, but rather something nearby. An old, unassuming shop that I remembered from my days as a filly.

I glided down towards the street to better read the signs inside and… sure enough… it was still there.

My old home. It was the one place I spent most of my time growing up in Ponyville.

It still stands. The old woodchip pile that supports flowers still stands, supporting a collection of Daisies, Daffodils, and Dahlia. The wooden windowsills are stained with memories, remembrance in suspended animation. Like dreams frozen in time.

The exterior paper and wooden walls hadn’t yet been replaced by the more utilitarian architecture that is booming across Equestria, looking like something akin to a museum piece rather than an actual home.

And the front door was open.

I dared myself to peek inside. It was way darker than I initially suspected it to be. There didn’t seem to be anypony inside.

Not wanting to come off as an intruder, I called out, “Hello?”

No response. Taking a step inside the house, a curious premonition overtakes me.

It’s Quiet.

No… No, not Quiet. Silent.

Wind billowing past my mane ruffling grass and leaves, birds cooing songs, bugs chirping in broad daylight, ponies idly chattering.

Gone.

It’s as if I had entered a vacuum of spatial awareness.

I looked outside to where I came in. I had only taken one step, and yet it felt like I was miles underground. Or underwater.

Trapped.

Unease creeps up in me.

The hunch of something being wrong is overwhelming me.

I suddenly feel like I am about to suffocate.

“Are you okay Sunshine?”

Night Light’s voice called me from upstairs as I lost my thoughts. The dirty dishes in my hooves didn’t get any cleaner as I allowed myself to daydream again.

“Sorry, yeah. I’m okay.”

“You sound like you are taking a while. You’re normally quick.”

“I’ll be done soon,” I answered back, looking back out through the window over our sink.

Night time had descended as Luna’s Moon gracefully rose over the distant mountains and illuminated the land in the moonlight once more. Houses twinkle to life as the indoors lights switch on one after another.

I turned my attention back towards the dirty dishes, scraping off tonight’s dinner of…

… What did I eat again?

“Hey, Sunshine.” Night Light’s voice calls me again, this time much closer and less vocal. “I was thinking something.” she idly remarks as she fixes a towel over her Mane to dry it.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

“... A date?”

“Yeah, don’t you remember when was the last time we went on a date?”

“Uh…” I started counting feathers. “... six and a half years?”

“I can’t even remember. I’m surprised you did.” she admits with a smile. “But thats my point. It’s been since the beginning of the war that we did something together, and I wanna do something together for once.”

“I mean…” I hesitated. “Tonight?”

“Well, no, too late for tonight. But sometime soon I hope. What do you think?”

I gave it thought, inserting the last dish in the rain-operated dishwasher. You know, come think of it, I don’t even remember the last time I went on a date with Night Light.

… But… didn’t I just say… six and a half years ago?

What did I do six and a half years ago? Why can’t I remember?

I shook the thought off.

“You know what? That sounds awesome!” I answered with a smile and a kiss on her cheek.

A small whinny of joy was heard, though she tried her best to conceal it.

“Thank you. I… I guess I have to start looking around on what we should do, huh?”

Didn’t you have something important to do?

… Huh. Yeah, I did. But…

“Table for two?” The receptionist asks politely.

“Yes please,” I answered confidently, my wing wrapped around Night Light all the while. She groomed her mane and tail especially well for this night, as well as I. Both of us smelled of Lavender and Honey.

A waitress guides us to an empty table on a dimly lit patio outside with two chairs facing each other The table hosts a lit candle in the center. Ponies around us are well-dressed and well-groomed for this place. The crickets chirp endlessly outside the patio walls.

I pulled the chair for Night Light as we both gingerly sat down, her first then me.

“Mm, free bread rolls.” She admires with a lack of satiety in her voice.

“I think I am going for the Potato Roast.” I idly remarked as I read the menu. “I remember going here once a long time ago, and the Potato Roast was the best thing they had for me.”

“Did you happen to be a small filly with an undeveloped palate of taste, perhaps?” Night Light smirked.

“Hey, you try building a restaurant that caters to Herbivores. Us ponies gotta be creative.”

A giggle escapes her lips. “Fair, I suppose. Although, some of these choices are… quite unimaginative.”

“... ‘Boiled Brussel Sprouts with Butter.’ Heh. Yeah, I see what you mean.”

The candle flame flickers a little as the wind picks up from a lonely gale passing through the Patio. It threatened to go out as the flames danced wildly.

Instinctively, I raised a hoof to block it from the cold wind. The makeshift windshield stabilized the flames until the gust passed along.

I was about to lower my hooves to the table.

That was until I noticed something peculiar.

The flames are not warm.

In fact, hovering my hooves over the candle yields no warmth. Hovering the hoof closer to the flames yields no different results.

It’s as if the warmth vanished. But why is the flame there then?

“Sunshine, your food is getting cold.” Night Light interrupts my stupor, pointing me towards steaming neatly cut squares of roasted potatoes on a wide platter. With a side of Broccoli and Cheese.

“... I don’t remember the food getting here.” I spoke aloud.

Strange enough, Night Light didn’t seem to hear me. Or was maybe too focused on her food.

Hovering my hooves over the food I can feel the heat of the steam cut into my flesh beneath my coat. More so than usual, enough to make me wince.

“... Too hot?” Night Light asks innocently.

A chilly shiver plagues my body, goosebumps tingling my skin as that same chilly premonition of something wrong returns from the marketplace. Earlier today-

Wait, was it still today?

“Wh… What day is it?” I asked out of nowhere.

“Wednesday. The 14th.”

“... What month?”

Night Light’s eyes glance up at me with a raised brow.

“Um… are you okay?”

“Just answer, I-I suddenly forgot,” I asked again, “I don’t know why.”

“Uh… it’s October. Almost Nightmare Night.”

Another cold gust of wind billows past me, reaffirming Night Light’s answer that it was indeed nearing the eve of winter.

But…

“Why was it warm when I was in Ponyville?”

Again, my question seems to have fallen on deaf ears.

Several warning lights were buzzing off in my head at once to ignore this sensation steadily creeping up on me.

And like a train, the thought slams me.

“... Are you real?”

“... What?” Night Light looks genuinely confused.

The wind howls again, this time more violent and colder than before. It felt like icy daggers were puncturing me, over and over as it pierced my coat effortlessly.

Night Light was unfazed.

The food was still warm.

The candle was still lit.

“... Is this a dream?”

The flames of the candle immediately go out.

As well as all the lights.

The shape of the Patio deck, of the idle bystanders who were minding their own business before, of the tranquil evening that they were inhabiting, and the shape of Night Light, are all smothered by an incomprehensible shroud.

The sounds of the world washed away as I felt like I was suddenly drowning.

Then the lack of air in my lungs affirmed me I was suffocating.

I thrashed about feeling solid chairs and tables painfully tumble into me over and over as I felt the tactile presence of the patio before, only to find a primordial blackness before me that curtains reality.

Panic seeps into my psyche, I look around for a way out but I am drowning.

And like a beacon in the sea, I see a shape making itself out before me.

The shape of a metal bulkhead door, with a small bulletproof glass window to peer through.

The air returned to my panicking lungs as I breathed in deeply to catch my breath and inspect the path before me.

Surrounding this bulkhead was a maze of Steel and Ironcast pipes of steam and diesel, interweaving and intersecting one another like a grid of streets leading to one final destination. All leading towards the door.

I turned behind me away from the door, to see nothing but that same Primordial darkness again.

“... Night Light?” I called out.

No answer.

“Anypony?!”

No answer.

My eyes drift back towards the door, calling me. Beckoning me to peer through its tiny glass window and see what lies within.

“Okay…” I mumble, trotting towards the door with dread. A green glow is emitting from beyond the thick glass.

Dust covered the window, prompting me to wipe it off with a free hoof. The green glow from within grows brighter as I press my face against the door.

A swirling ball of venomous-looking miasma, festering and growing like an infected blemish, crackles with malevolent energy from the epicenter, like a dark spell going horribly wrong. Photonic particles dance around the alien-looking object at rigorous and unbridled speed. Most of these particles fizz out and die after barely half a second, others feed back into the growing orb and channel its energy outward.

Growing.

Expanding.

Consuming.

“... What the fuck…” I whisper

Beneath the energy orb of world-ending proportions, a tiny equine figure stands beneath it, staring up into it with awe. This orb was gargantuan in comparison to the figure standing beneath it, almost like it was a god compared to this peon of a mortal.

There was something about this figure… something about him that made him feel distant, yet… innately familiar.

I looked down at the bulkhead and grabbed hold with my hooves. Twisting with all my strength, I still struggled to get it open as the wheel refused to budge easily. A few groans of resistance came from the door, and soon the weight finally collapsed downward to loosen the lock I swung the door open and…

“... Manehattan?”

Stretching before me in a kaleidoscope of lights and colors lies the legendary skyline of the metropolis of Manehattan. Unfamiliar, bending, morphing. The skyscrapers dominating the sightline stretch and melt into one another.

There were a few buildings I recognized. The Tenpony Tower stretches all the way up as the tallest skyscraper. The jade-painted Statue of Liberty is off to the coast. And Mane Street with its famous perpendicular design of intersections.

There was an inexplicable heat surrounding the area of the city. It felt like it stretched onward toward every conceivable direction. Sweat was accumulating in all of the crevices of my body.

Then there was the sense of rushing wind.

Then a blinding light.

Until all of my skin disintegrates into sundered ashes behind a voiceless scream.

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