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“Sunshine!”

The voice drowns into a familiar feminine tone. The half-formed images retreat into the primordial darkness as my eyes squint from the brightness of morning light. I feel a hoof pushing me on my left as my conscience ferments into a bubbling pot of emotions ranging from dread to fatigue.

“Gruuurugh bah.” I mumble in my pillow.

“Sunshine, it’s almost eleven o’ clock.” Night Light patiently announces from above.

“Sleep.” I groaned back.

“No sleep, we have to get up. I made breakfast for you.”

My ears twitch. The mention of breakfast emits a loud growl from my stomach.

“And I know you haven’t eaten last night, so get up.”

“Uuuuuuugh.” My brain and my belly were engaged in a tug of war. The latter emits one more growl as it asserts its dominance in the altercation. “Fine, I’m coming.”

Night Light gave me the grace to leave me to my wallowing from insomnia alone, as I rolled around the now empty bed with its stirred sheets and stretched the taut muscles all across my body. My eyes adjusted to the brightness of morning as I lifted them with great effort and strain. The air felt warm around me, my nostrils breathing a deep sigh as I slowly stood up.

A few minutes of brushing my teeth and freshening up had passed before Night Light saw me descend downstairs rubbing my still bleary-eyes.

“Good morning.” Night Light greets me, sliding a plate of eggs and toast down to me. The sizzling of the pan gave my mind a vivid imagination of melting butter as Night Light prepared her portion next. The kitchen pervaded an aroma of butter, pepper, and egg yolks that slowly called me to sit down at my plate of breakfast.

“Thank you for breakfast,” I reply as I take the first bite of toast. Still warm. “How long have you been up?”

“Not long,” she replies, flipping an egg in the air. “I got to prepping eggs the second I sat up about ten minutes ago. I haven’t made coffee yet.”

“Do you want me to-”

“No it's fine, thank you. Just eat your breakfast.”

I raised an eyebrow at her quick response, which was immediately shrugged off with another bite of toast.

Clicking the stove off, she sets down a plate on the counter as the toaster dings from the timer, its guests popping out of the slots. Night Light deftly spreads the butter with a knife using her wingtips, planting two eggs in between the slices to make a sandwich.

Neither of us said a word as we both nonchalantly enjoyed the quiet morning. The scent of summer whiffs passes my nostrils as my eyes travel to the window above the sink. A few pegasi are flying about the premises, enjoying lighthearted acrobatics as they proceed with their leisurely flight.

A sense of bitterness swelled up in me as I realized what awaited me later today.

“... Have you heard from them, yet?” The bitterness transfers to my voice.

“No,” she answers, quickly catching on as to who I’m talking about. “S.M.I.L.E. is said to come by in the afternoon and it is still technically morning so I think we got a couple of hours to ourselves.”

“... Not nearly as much as I would like.”

“Nearly?” she wryly questions.

“Okay, nowhere near the amount of time I would like.” I corrected with an eye-roll.

“Thought so.” she relents with a small smirk. “What would you do without me?”

“Wallow in my depression and cry about how I miss you?” I answered atonally.

She looks back at me with a concerned look in her gaze.

Jeez, where did that come from?

“Uh… you okay?”

“Yeah fine, sorry that was… I don’t know why I said that.”

The lame apology was enough to invoke a sense of pity in Night Light. At least, I think it's pity. Or maybe she just feels worried for me. That's probably it. I could be overthinking this.

A yawn escaping my lips reminds me that I had just woken up.

“Well, it’s good we don’t have to do that anymore. I for one don’t like to dwell on doom and gloom. Doesn’t tend to do wonders for one’s health.”

I nodded with a small smile. “You’re right about that.”

After some fetching around in the pantry, she eventually opens the coffee tin and pours the ground beans into the filter. Some pouring water in a compartment here, and some spreading the coffee there, and she was done with the press of a button. Soon the boiler began to work.

As Night Light waited on her coffee, she sat down to finally eat the sandwich she set aside. She gave a small moan of satisfaction as she took the first bite.

Again, neither of us relished the comfort of the quiet morning as we opted to stay silent. Apart from the boiling in the coffee machine, there wasn’t much sound to fixate on.

That was when my brain realized there was really nothing to do in the meantime. As I tried to find minor tasks to fixate on, blanks were consistently coming up in my frontal cortex. It was hard. The only thing I could focus on was the fact that we would soon be abducted once again in a few hours.

A few hours to kill until we were taken away from each other again…

“Sunshine? You’re making that face again.”

I blinked. My expression softened as I looked up at Night Light gazing at me with worry once again.

“Right,” I mumble, “Sorry. Old habit.”

“Thinking about them, again?”

“What else is there to think about?”

She had no answer, instead sighing as she looked at her now empty plate. She notices the coffee machine has finished boiling and gets up to pour herself a cup. A few sugar scoops and careful sips from her ensured it was ready.

Sitting back down, she averts her gaze to fixate on her beverage.

I sigh as well.

“It is hard to enjoy the day when you know you are about to be abducted.”

“Is that how you see it,” she asks, “being abducted?”

“Is that how you not see it?” I countered.

“I’m not arguing against that, but…” she trails off. A noticeable hitch in her tone prevents her from finishing what she wants to say. Or maybe she was second-guessing herself?

“But what?”

“Look, I don’t like the fact that a bunch of goons in suits are coming to our home and taking us away for questioning—which is very troubling and I agree with you on it being unlawful—but aside from that obvious breach in Equestrian Law and aside from their aggressive posturing-”

“—That what? That there is something to be said about what they are doing? That they are trying to do right for Equestria by doing this? Is that what you were going to say?” I counter again, bitterness returning in full force.

“No, dammit, I mean-” she stops with a sigh. “Look… we both have our troubled pasts that are somehow connected to this stupid investigation they want to solve. All I am saying is that there has to be a reason for their aggression. They can’t just be like this without one.”

“... And that reason is probably the Nuclear Bomb that I told you about.” I relented as last night’s memories replayed in my head. I sit back in my seat with a heavy thump.

“Or the Aigaion.” Night Light corrects.

“Right,” I mutter, “But, didn’t you say that it was gone now?”

“It is, which is why none of this makes sense to me.” she groans with a hoof rubbing her temple. “Why would they want information on something that is dead? Why does it have anything to do with me if what they are after is the Nuclear Bomb?”

A lightbulb flashes in my mind as my eyes widen slightly.

Wait...

“... Why can’t it be both?”

“Huh?”

“Well, think about it,” I sat up in my seat, my elbows planted on the table, “We both are being questioned at the same time. We both were taken away by the same ponies who wanted to know about our past and our lives. And we know that they want to prevent something like this from happening again.

“I’m not sure what you are saying, exactly.” Night Light tilts her head with a raised brow.

“What if the Aigaion was connected to the Nuclear Bomb?”

My heart suddenly seizes up as I remember the events of Hjortland. How I found the target plans of Aigaion alongside their blueprints for an upgrade.

How they were targeting Canterlot…

“Oh... Fuck.” I suddenly mutter.

“What?” Night Light asks, picking up on my horrified expression.

“... What if the Aigaion was carrying the bomb?”

Silence. Night Light’s pupils dilate in horror at the question. My heart thundered in my chest, my mind wandering down memory lane. I remembered how much time we had to get that info back to Equestria.

Only a few days head start.

“... Oh fuck.”

Night Light snapped out of her dread-filled stupor to shake her head.

“What? What is it now?!”

“... I think-” I stopped myself just shy as the words died in my throat.

Memories of a race against time.

Memories of apprehension as to whether we were too late.

A cold sinking feeling grips my body as the minds wander further down its crevices.

Within, a primordial instinct soon takes hold of me. Demanding me to turn back. To not delve further.

You won’t like what you find in there.

“You think what?!” Night Light asks again, pressing the question further with manic worry.

“... I think the Aigaion was going to destroy Canterlot. And it was going to drop it there.”

It sounded like such a simple sentence, but it carried the sinking weight of a world unburdened by nuclear fire. Mental images of Canterlot melting into cinders invaded my mind as it collapsed into a landslide down the face of its mountain.

My vision returns to see Night Light looking at me with fearful disbelief.

“... How do you think that?”

“Long story, but... once upon a time, I was in Hjortland during a raid. And in that raid, we found plans for the Aigaion’s strike missions. One of its priority targets was Canterlot. By the time we had found it, we had less than a week to warn Equestria of what was to come. Less than a week of time to travel all the way across Equestria to prevent the destruction of its Lodestar.”

“And… you think Aigaion was harboring the same nuke you were looking for?”

“I never made the connection at the time. I never made the realization then, I just knew that we had to get back in time before it was too late.” I paused as my eyes gazed down in contemplation. “Thinking back on it now, though... it is not unlikely.”

Night Light thinks back on this with her gaze trapped in her coffee, her brows creased in a frown of doubt.

I notice it and ask, “What? What is it?”

“You remember last night that the ponies from S.M.I.L.E. want me because of the Aigaion?”

Shivers of dread wash up my spine. A twinge of a memory threatens to resurface itself, but… It washes away. I lost the train of thought as fast as it had arrived at the station, like a bullet in one ear and out the other.

“Yeah, what of it?” I answered atonally, my mind clearing itself up.

“I never really told you their reasoning as to why,” she looks outside to the window over the sink once again. A blink later, and her head snaps in my direction. “They are trying to figure out how it died.”

“... And I take it that they don’t really know the answer?” I asked cautiously.

“Not really, no. They need my help discerning it. I helped fight against it in the early war when I first met it in Las Pegasus. I knew it more than any other pony that is currently alive. I am their best bet.”

“You… fought against it?” I asked in horror. “Wasn’t that thing, like, a death machine?”

She shuddered. “It was. It was by far the most terrifying foe I went against.” She looks down at her beverage cupped in her hooves again.

A sense of déjà vu passes through me quickly. Again, that same twinge. I try to focus on it, try to make it manifest into what it is trying to convey.

I only remember dark corridors. Similar to the ones in my dreams…

“I didn’t fight it much because of that. Ponies up top knew how dangerous it was. They never fought against it unless they had to,” she frowns, “And I don’t remember fighting against it in Canterlot.” Night Light continues, unbothered by my mental maladies.

“... Well,” I interjected with sudden clarity, “weren’t you on a carrier for the war? Out on a fleet? How would you make it to Canterlot? Wouldn’t you have to land at an airfield out in the land somewhere?”

“That’s just the thing, nopony ever said anything about an attack on Canterlot at… wait, when was this?” she asked suddenly.

“Uh… I found it in the summer of 1014, I want to say. But I could misremember the year.” I gave an uneasy sigh. “I admit, I am not really sure.”

“Okay, assuming it's the summer of ‘14,” she continues, “... I never had any indication—from my friends, from the other pilots, from the instructors and the higher-ups—nopony said anything about Canterlot being attacked.

“It’s as if it never happened at all.”

I frowned at her but opted to stay quiet instead. Letting her finish.

“You said it was going to Canterlot, and you think it was carrying a Nuclear Bomb. And I don’t remember anything ever coming of Canterlot during that time. I don’t remember Aigaion ever getting that far inland. It always veered close to the coastline every time I heard of it. So either you saved Canterlot, or it wasn’t going to Canterlot.”

“... I got there in time,” I mumbled. “But…”

My heart quickens. Dark, rusted metal walls with sickly green lights…

“So maybe you did save Canterlot, or maybe not. But either way, the bottom line is this: how does this prove that both the Bomb and Aigaion are connected?” Night Light presses one last time.

My mind stops. The question repeats in my mind until it focuses on that focal point of thought.

Indeed, she had a solid reasoning. There were chinks in the armor of the narrative I had constructed, threatening to unravel itself. But the fact of the matter remained, however.

They were still connected.

And yet, Night Light was speaking the truth.

No sense of doubt remained as she asked that question, she knew this was too implausible to be true. Too many coincidences had to align; the stars themselves aligning would be more likely than this narrative.

But it also carried an air of truth to it. It had to be connected. Somehow. I couldn’t see it but, it had to be. It was a self-evident truth, one that I had never been more certain of in my life.

Only a couple of seconds had passed, and Night Light still waiting for an answer. My mind is running the hamster wheel in perpetual motion as it grinds the gears to work. How would they logically connect to one another?

Night Light said that the agents in S.M.I.L.E. couldn’t figure out how they died. Which seems absurd. It wouldn’t make sense as to how they wouldn’t know if we were the ones to kill it.

… weren’t we?

“Wait, who did kill the Aigaion?” I asked aloud. “You said that S.M.I.L.E. did not remember, but you don’t either?”

She paused. A second of doubt possesses her until she shakes her head.

“... I know I didn’t kill it, but I helped in quickening its death. I helped in aiding in its destruction.” She pauses for another few seconds and takes a long sip of her coffee. “I know I saw it die.”

“You saw it die?”

She nods curtly. “I did. I saw it go down to the ground. I saw it crash into the earth already burning from fires erupting all across the vessel. I saw it explode when it plummeted. I know I saw it die, and that is how I know it is dead.”

Wrinkles are beginning to form on my forehead as I creased my brow in deep thought.

Then it clicked.

“If you saw it die,” I begin with sudden clarity, “and if the theory that supports the bomb being on the ship is true, then that would mean the bomb is already destroyed as well. Right?”

“... Right.” Night Light agrees.

“And if it is destroyed, then there would be no point to this whole investigation in the first place, right?”

She stays silent, but her eyes betray a look of enraptured curiosity.

Dread coats my heart as it quickens it pace once again.

“That can mean a lot of things, but here are the three main possibilities as to what that means; either the bomb was destroyed with the ship without a detonation, which is unlikely. Or perhaps there was no nuclear bomb on the ship in the first place.”

“... Also unlikely.” Night Light acquiesces.

“This leads to the third outcome:” I gave an accidental pause for dramatic effect, as I was busy swallowing thick saliva.

“Someone took the bomb off the ship and escaped with it. Before it was going down.”

Night Light gazes down at this theory. Rather than shock a look of analytical apprehension overtakes her features instead. She darts her eyes back and forth as if in meticulous calculation.

“... Possible,” she mumbles, “but unlikely. That someone would have to still be at large for that to be true. They would still have the bomb today.”

The thought of a rogue changeling running around the country with a Nuclear Bomb in tow never failed to create goosebumps, shivers, and trembles of terror. The sickly mental image of a mushroom cloud forms again in my mind.

Memories of cindered flesh and voiceless screams in my dreams…

“I pray that is not the case.” Night Light quietly mumbles in hopeful reluctance.

“... But why else would S.M.I.L.E. want us?”

No answer.

“They said themselves that they want to prevent this from happening and that they don’t know where it was. And they need both of our help to piece together this narrative that surrounds them—both with the Aigaion and with the bomb. Why else would they be so aggressive about this? Why else would they want us both at the same time? Why else would they be interested in the Aigaion when the Nuclear Bomb seems much more important?”

“... Oh fuck.” Night Light repeats the words I muttered minutes ago. The same words that started this internalization of events.

Her eyes widen.

“... Oh fuck. It has to be true,” she mutters with horror. “It… It makes sense. Why they would want us both; Why they would persist about it even after its death; Why they would keep us both in the dark about each other’s history; It’s…” she trails off.

“Aigaion was harboring the nuke.” I finished for her in apprehension.

A suffocating atmosphere of dreadful silence encompasses us. Plates empty, and mug half empty, neither of us spoke a word for almost one minute straight.

Until Night Light gives a choking sound.

“... I think I’m gonna be sick.”

She quickly gets up to the sink. More memories traveled back in time as I heard Night Light hurl into the drain next to me. The sounds are drowned out as my mind wanders once again down memory lane for the umpteenth time.

The sickly green light manifests into balefire, drowning the world in its flames in a torrent of annihilation.

Tartarus incarnate.

“Huhkh- URRAAGH!” a violent hurl drowns my thoughts, followed by the sound of a sink running to flush the contents down. “Fuck…”

‘Fuck’ is right. We are fucked.

Somewhere, only goddesses know where a Changeling is harboring a Nuclear Bomb.

Watching.

Biding time.

“I think I am gonna be sick too,” I mutter to myself, feeling my body quake and tremble with fear at the horrific realization.

It makes too much sense. Every fiber of my being is screaming with conviction that this was the truth.

I look to see Night Light suffering alongside me with her panic attack, still curled over the faucet in a dreadful display.

“We… w-we have t-to tell them,” Night Light mumbles through the nausea, “h-have to tell them that-that the Aigaion was—”

“They know already, Night Light,” I mutter, “Why else would this be happening to us? From them?”

“Oh… Oh, Sweet Celestia.”

More silence, save for Night Light and I breathing heavily with fatigue and sudden adrenaline.

The twinges return once more. Memories of emotions coursing through me.

Memories of hope and fear, unadulterated and unbecoming.

“... What now?” Night Light asks, snapping me back to reality.

What now?

Two seemingly innocuous words. But at the current moment, they are the most important words in the world.

What can we do now? I didn’t know. I felt like I was stranded on a raft in the middle of the sea, unable to fly away and instead float to my inevitable demise.

Sickly mental images of towers made of concrete and glass melting beneath the blinding pale of a mushroom cloud towering over the sky like an enraged god summoned to devastate the world for its hubris.

It could happen now.

It could happen here.

It could happen anywhere at any time.

And there isn’t anything we can do to stop it.

“... I… I don’t know.” I finish lamely. “I don’t know what we can do. And I don’t think S.M.I.L.E. does as well.”

“They must have some kind of plan though, right?!” she asks with a hint of desperation. Her tone was borderline manic. “They have to! They wouldn’t just bumble about this in the dark, not unless they had a solid lead.”

“And what do you think we are to them? Souvenirs?” I asked with indignance. “It's exactly what you said, we are their LAST lead. And even still, we are coming up with blanks as to where it is now! They know just as much as we do, but it is still not enough! And if that is not enough, then I don’t know what will be!”

Once again, the same twinges haunting me all morning had returned. Yet this time, they were stronger than ever. More mental images conjure themselves into existence.

The same mental images of the halls in my dreams, except more vivid. Ponies are standing alongside me travelling down the same hallway. Their figures are blended and lack color and shape. I cannot discern who or how many are with me.

But I remember opening that door alongside them. I remember opening it, and then… blinding light following afterward.

A headache pierces a tendril of pain behind my eye as I finish the memory. I groan as I rub my temples.

“But… there has to be something we can do, right?” Night Light asks again. She sounded so hopeful. It was almost naive.

“We are doing all we can already,” I reply rubbing a hoof on my skull to soothe the headache, “they are questioning us as best they can, and they are going to put the pieces together themselves. There it falls onto more capable ponies than us to take care of the problem.”

“How does one take care of the problem that is a rogue Nuclear Bomb?”

Good question.

I scratched my head in thought. “Not sure. I can only assume that they will be diligent and careful. They have the resources and technology. So I see the possibility of them finding it relatively quickly.”

“... Sunshine,” Night Light begins with a disappointing shake of her head, “How many months has it been since the war ended?”

I blinked. After calculating the time in my head for a few seconds, “... Seven months?”

“Right. Seven months had passed, and they were only JUST now starting to interrogate us? About all of this?”

It dawned on me what she was trying to say. Seven months of time they spent, doing who knows what… and they still were not even close. In fact, it seemed like they just started investigating this.

“I see your point.”

“Right, so if they couldn’t find it in seven months—and even if we give them the benefit of the doubt that they are only just now finding out about us and our pasts—What chance do they have of finding it now with us?”

“... Hardly any,” I answered, “They would be finding a needle in a farm of haystacks.”

Night Light nods along with grim features, her frown almost permanently etched into her forehead.

“And we are supposed to be their best hope?”

I couldn’t answer. Moreso I was too afraid to. It dawned on me that this was somehow all tied to me… And I couldn’t finish what I started.

I am reminded of my failure. And the cost of that failure will be paid in hundreds of thousands of lives lost in the blink of an eye.

Last night's memories return to me in a whiplash.

“... I failed.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

The front door pounded thrice as a muffled Stallion’s voice called out from outside, causing both of me and Night to jump in our seats.

“Sunshine Tempest and Night Light! We have a warrant to bring you into custody!”

Silence between me and Night Light as we both gazed at one another.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Please open the door!”

I heard a swallow from Night Light, gulping down saliva.

“That was faster than I expected,” she mumbles with acceptance and finality.

“We can’t expect us to even get an hour to ourselves, huh?” I asked with that same hint of bitterness that woke me up.

“Seems that way,” Night stands up, “but… what else is there to do?” she looks at me, hoping for an answer. A way out of this nightmare we were trapped in.

I could only offer back a deep sigh.

“I don’t know.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Night Light wordlessly trots toward the door. Her ears drooped back as she opened it to reveal the same suits that took us away yesterday. Even the color of their coats remained unchanged. It had to be the same individuals.

If they could even be called that.

“Give us a few minutes to prepare please, we will be out shortly.” Night Light requests with a polite tone, hinting at no resistance to their compliance.

“... you will have five minutes. Be out by then.” he nods to his buddy before they both turn away as Night shuts the door on them.

Another sigh, this time from Night Light, carries across the open living room and kitchen to my ears. She looks back at me with resigned eyes.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

“... No.”

“Yeah, me neither.” She looked back at the closed door. “Will they separate us again?”

“... Probably.” the tonal indifference in my tone hid the exhaustion and dread I felt for what was to come.

I was about to confront the horrors of my past again, whether I wanted to or not.

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