The pristine, marble floors of Canterlot palace shone with radiance. Alabaster tiles returned the warm light coming from the torches set regularly along the walls, providing an almost homely feeling. Paintings of all ages and styles lined the halls, including busts and other pieces of valuable art. The doors, all adorned with gems and etchings of gold, hid even more of what the palace already offered to the eyes.

“This is all wrong...” Twilight muttered to herself as she trotted through the castle’s halls, head hanging low.

She felt as if the whole palace was forcing her to forget. To forget about the ongoing conflict and, more importantly, to forget about what she had learned. The whole building reeked of happiness and optimism, contrasting against the military camp that was set up at the foot of the very mountain that held Canterlot. It seemed as if it was made for this; to be entirely hermetic and make you forget about your problems.

How had she even grown to despise such a thing? It only added to the hundreds of questions she already had. She could only keep moving towards her destination as a wave of thoughts washed over her head.

Books about war, pain, and misery. They had all appeared only days after the start of the war. But why? Nopony could have possibly written those in such a hurry. In fact, they were old books, so it must have meant that they were being purposely locked.

Why?

“These books are far too dark for them to be common knowledge,” Celestia had explained. “They would have only raised conflict.”

Twilight had believed her at first. Rarely had she ever heard of the concept of war before, and it seemed too far-fetched to be possible.

She soon reached a large set of doors, engraved with intricate designs made of gold, including a few gems. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing herself. She sighed it out as she gingerly prodded one of the doors with her hoof, gently sliding it open. Her senses were immediately overwhelmed as she moved inside; the smell of tea and burning wood crawled deeper into her system. She took in another shaky breath, observing the room she found herself in. Tall bookshelves, a few paintings, a fireplace, and a small table covered in stacks of paper.

“Ah, Twilight,” a soothing, motherly voice reached her ears. She looked at the source of the voice: a regal, pure white alicorn sitting by the small table, levitating a cup of tea near herself. “Please, come sit.”

Regaining her composure, Twilight trotted over to the table. She glanced over at the stacks of papers, noticing a few of her own friendship reports lying amongst the many other pieces of paper. “Princess...” She sighed, sitting down next to Celestia, unable to maintain eye-contact with her. “Are those my reports?”

Celestia closed her eyes, a sign of weariness crawling into her voice, “Yes, I have been feeling quite... nostalgic.”

The next few minutes were spent in silence as they both stared at the burning pile of wood by the fireplace. Twilight was unsure how to begin; too many questions were swimming around her head.

“I did not come this far for nothing...”

“Princess,” she began, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course, my dear student,” Celestia replied, looking at the unicorn with a warm smile on her face.

“Is everything I know a lie?”

The question seemed to take the Princess by surprise. She tilted her head to the side and slowly set her cup of tea on the table before turning back to Twilight. “What do you mean?”

The princess' reaction ignited a spark inside of the purple unicorn, quickly flaring up into a raging furnace. All of her bottled-up emotion and wondering surfaced, causing her entire body to tremble as she stood up. “What do I mean?” she thought, following up by repeating the same question aloud. “What do I mean? You’ve been hiding things from us! Entire books about war and Equestrian history that not even I knew about!” She snorted, rage building up in her heart. “Why?”

Celestia sighed, “Sometimes it is for the best if some things are left behind.”

“Oh really?” Twilight retorted. “Maybe if we knew more then we would be winning this war!”

“It is too late to know for certain-”

“Stop it!” the unicorn yelled. “All the time I spent reading about the humans... their history, their culture, their technology. You made us believe that there was nothing beyond our own planet! But you knew about all of this, didn’t you?”

The Princess looked down at the floor. “It was for the best, Twilight.”

Twilight’s expression slowly turned into a scowl. “Are you even a real god?”

“Twilight. What is it you really want to ask?”

“They started from apes, you know...” Twilight muttered as she sat down again. “But they turned themselves into gods. Why keep us from doing the same? Why keep us from discovering the amazing facts of the universe? Why keep us from progressing?”

Celestia was silent, her gaze turned to a nonexistent window. "Are they happy, Twilight?"

"T-they're gods! They can do things we can't even imagine! Space travel, shields, steel cities, living armor-"

"But are they happy?" Celestia locked gazes with Twilight, letting the question hang in the air.

His foot made a loud thump as it reached the metallic floor of the ship. The two troopers guarding the secure blast doors looked at him inquisitively, keeping a tight grip on their weapons. All around was a bustling flow of troopers and technicians, going on about their daily jobs and only shooting occasional glances at the giant standing in front of the main briefing chamber.

Atlas sighed shook his head. “Are you gonna let me in or not?”

“Well,” one of the troopers grumbled. “Orders are orders.”

Both of the men stepped aside, and the door automatically slid open, allowing the hulking giant to step in.

“I hope they kill you,” one of the troopers whispered as he stepped into the room before the door closed. Atlas grumbled, deciding to ignore the man for the meantime, for there were other things to attend to.

He found himself inside a large chamber. An entire assortment of Commanders from sectional to divisional sat around a massive table, including Admiral Becker and Infantry Commander Jack Silverback. The latter stood up from his seat upon seeing Atlas walk into the room.

“What are you doing here, mutant?”

“Calm down, Silverback,” Becker said, standing up as well. “I’ll explain this soon enough.” He placed his hands on the table, looking over the men and women inside the chamber. “Now, as you all probably know, Divisional Commander Marcus Drake perished today, leaving an empty gap as the leader of the heavy division...” He finished by looking over at Atlas, who had sat at the opposite end of the table. A wave of whispers swept through the entire chamber, and a few worried glances were shot in his direction.

Atlas smirked as a Sectional Commander rose up from his chair, looking at the Admiral with a distressed expression. “Sir, the sole fact of having the mutant here violates several regulations-!”

“Shut up, Zatuk,” another man said, folding his arms. “The only time he’s stepped out of line is when deliberately provoked, anyways.”

“Carson?” Silverback asked as he leaned closer over the table. “Did you just call that thing a ‘he’?”

“Yes, I did. I’m surprised so many of you still think augmentees are monsters despite living through the aug crisis...”

The Infantry Commander slammed his fist on the table, leaving a permanent dent on it. “Who do you think you are!? One of those things killed my brother!”

Shortly afterwards, the whole audience began to shout at each other. Atlas folded his arms and smirked behind his faceplate. “Guess I’m not all alone, after all...”

“ENOUGH!” Becker shouted, and almost immediately did the discussions amongst the officers stopped. “I have my reasons behind this, and I’m extremely disappointed in all of you! Didn’t they teach you in kindergarten not to judge a book by its cover!?”

“With all due respect, sir,” Kira Feros spoke up, who had been silent during the entire meeting. “I can and will abide by your decisions, but why him? What qualifies him to earn this position?”

Atlas huffed. “Been fighting since before you were even born, probably.”

“Exactly,” Becker said, pointing a finger at the giant. “What we need right now is to get the crew together, and making the ship accept him is the first step.” The old man sighed and placed his hands behind his back, adopting a militant stance. “We also need to fix our supply shortage; it is the reason for our return here to this planet.” He waved his hand over the table, and a holographic display lit up, showing a three-dimensional view of the planet. “Our mineral storage is fine, but we need food. Our plan is to talk the natives into giving us just that.”

“Why not just harvest it, sir?” Commander Silverback asked.

“No,” the old Admiral sighed. “We’re better than that. We cannot risk them starving because of us.” He looked over at Atlas once again, who remained silent, arms folded. “I’m sending Divisional Commander Atlas planetside. He’s had contact with the natives before, so that should make things easier... Dismissed.”

The officers all stood up and saluted before starting to flood out of the room. Atlas remained in his seat, looking down at the table with his arms folded.

“Silverback, Carson, stay here,” Becker said as he walked over to the giant. The other two men stood by, silently watching as the old man approached the augmentee. “Head to the nearest drop center, Commander. I’ll give you your orders on the go.”

“Heh-heh-heh...” Atlas mumbled as he got up, stretching. He looked over at Silverback and Carson, a grin spreading on his face. “Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone,” the titan said as he turned to the door and began walking. “See you later, Adam.”

He exited the chamber and back into the Vector’s network of metallic halls, a smirk behind his faceplate. “Let’s see someone call me ‘mutant’ again...”

While he made his way through to the tram station, his commlink lit up. “Alright,” came the voice of the Admiral. “It’s simple: you have to drop to the city of Canterlot and contact the Equestrian Princesses. I’ll be guiding you along the way.”

Atlas sighed as he stepped into a tram, some of the nearby troopers shooting worried glances at him. Soon afterwards, the doors closed and the tram began to speed up, entering the gravity-less vacuum of the ship’s tram system.

“So,” he said, leaning against one of the cart’s walls. “Did you just do this to piss everyone off or because I earned it?”

“Both.”

The giant chuckled as he adjusted his shoulder pauldrons, “Good one... Also, am I gonna get some real armor, or am I just stuck in this tin can?”

“You’ll get what you want, but it’ll take a few hours to integrate you into our system.”

The next few minutes were spent in silence, and Atlas watched as the few other troopers inside the tram put as much distance between him and themselves. He shot a glance through the main window, just as the tram overlooked one of the hangars. “Right... funeral.” The giant caught a glimpse of Commander Drake’s funeral, just as his ashes were thrown into the void of space. A mere second afterwards, the tram had already entered another section. He just hoped he wouldn’t be the ashes one day.

Slowly, the tram came to a stop and its doors automatically opened for Atlas to walk out of it. A few images flashed into his mind as he moved through the constant influx of people that filled the halls. “Just hope the heavies won’t be a bunch of whiny bitches... Maybe they’ll still be as tough as I remember.”

Not a moment too soon did he see the digital signs with the words “Drop Center” hanging overhead. He walked around a corner, following the direction of the sign. Various troopers whispered to each other as he walked past them. Maybe the details about his promotion from squatter to Div Commander had gotten leaked already.

Shrugging off his current set of thoughts, he walked into one of the chambers that contained the heavy launch tubes. The single trooper inside looked up at him from his holopad, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. “Atlas?”

“Commander Atlas.”

“Oh, I uh... the tubes are set and ready, sir.”

“Got’cha,” Atlas said as he pressed a button on the control console of one of the tubes, causing it to shoot a stream of gas and open. He stepped inside and the hatch sealed shut.

From a small viewport he could see as the trooper worked on the console. Without any form of notice, the air was sucked out of the tube and he was suspended in a magnetic field. Atlas then looked down, watching as several hatches began to open under his feet, yet he remained suspended in the field. The last hatch opened, letting him see the surface of the planet below before, much like the round of a gauss gun, he was pulled down the opening by magnetic fields, propelling him at a supersonic speed out of the ship and towards the planet.

His suit’s shielding powered up as he began to burn through the atmosphere. He flipped in mid-fall, going head-first towards the surface.

Out in Equestria, the night lit up with a single falling star...