Tiberius had never felt such humiliation.

"Mmm... good boy..." Trixie groaned in appreciation as she pushed the alicorn's muzzle deeper into the moist warmth of her sex, his tongue pushing further into the mares core as it lapped at her inner being. The unicorn herself was sprawled out across the ice cold surface of the Megastructure disk, hind-legs spread, panting lightly with flushed cheeks, whilst her mane lay spread out beneath her in waves of cornflower blue. Her chest rose and fell in shallow movements as she petted Tiberius' mane with a hoof in a manner that could almost have been described as affectionate. Tiberius made no response, distracted as he was by the sense-dulling musk of the mare's arousal, his heart burning with shame as the witch gripped his fluted horn with her telekinesis and pressed him even closer to her body.

How long he had been forced to carry out this degrading task he was no longer sure, Trixie had blinded him from the outset with a simple strip of blue silk that had matched the hue of her own coat, whilst the oppressive stasis fields of the null chamber negated his bodies innate ability to determine the passage of time, confining him to an existence of immeasurable, eternal silence punctuated only by the visits of his warden. Save for Trixie's visits, he had no way of telling the passage of time; for all he knew years, decades, or even centuries could have passed beyond the walls of his cell, the eons drifting past with unstoppable motion as he remained trapped within a stagnant life of darkness.

Finding the ministrations of her captive losing their lustre, Trixie let a sadistic, yet seductive, smile spread across her muzzle, recognising another opportunity to administer discipline to the alicorn held between her thighs as she slowly raised her hoof to Tiberius' horn, resting her limb against its tip ever so gently. Instantly Tiberius tensed, his tongue lapping at her sex with increased fervour as he sought to avoid the disciplinary action from his new mistress that he knew such a caress implied. Already had he partaken in Trixie's own form of encouragement, and already had he found it to be far from his liking.

Using her enhanced aethereal talents, Trixie fashioned a simple bar of arcane matter in the air above Tiberius' horn; an incorporeal file, lined on one side with fine, barbed teeth. The mare took a brief moment to look down upon the blinded face of her captive, savouring the sheer erotic thrill the manipulation of another equine gave her; the knowledge that at a whim she could deliver him to ecstasy or wrack him with agony, that she had absolute control over fellow being. Resting the aethereal file against the base of Tiberius' horn, Trixie gave the alicorn enough to time to realise what was coming and to know fear of it before drawing the construct up the ivory appendage in a single, fluid motion.

The effect was instant.

Tiberius moved to pull away, instinct telling him to flee from the source of the pain as the file scraped across the sensitive surface of his horn, sending a nerve-searing wave of pain through the base of his skull and racing down his spine; even his wings twitching within the boundaries of their confines. Seizing his horn once more in her telekinetic grip, Trixie denied the alicorn his break for freedom, instead forcing him even deeper into her sex as he gave a muted scream of agony. Hearing her fallen angel scream thus, Trixie once more felt the seductive thrill of sadism run through her; the simple imagery of a once mighty warrior of the Celestial Levels now bent to her will and breaking beneath her attentions causing her sex to clench around the invasive tongue which lapped at her inner core, a release of musky fluid accompanying the mare's climax as she wrapped her hind legs around the alicorn's neck, forcing his tongue even deeper into her being.

His mind still reeling from the sheer agony brought on by the reduction of his horn, Tiberius could do little more but continue to tend to his mistress's needs as the mare discharged into his open mouth, the wash of fluids forcing him to continuously swallow Trixie's release, lest he bring upon himself yet another lesson in discipline. For a subjective eternity his world was condensed into the sounds of Trixie's moans as the mare rode out her climax, grinding her tender sex against his muzzle as she sought still further pleasure from him, before, with an appreciative sigh, he felt Trixie's hind-legs fall away from their death-grip around his neck, the mare simultaneously releasing her telekinetic hold on his horn. Though now free, Tiberius didn't pull away from the mare instantly, his tongue remaining voluntarily buried inside of her for a few seconds longer than he was comfortable with before he was able to summon the energy to at last withdraw from the mares sex.

The taste of her lingered on his tongue.

The confusion within him was a maelstrom of emotions that induced more fear within the alicorn than any amount physical suffering could have ever imprinted on his consciousness. Anger, shame, hatred, humiliation, and arousal; all clamoured for his attention as the alicorn returned to his standing position, remnants of Trixie's release running down his muzzle and dripping from his chin. He hated the mare to his core for what she was doing to him, for the way she twisted and befuddled his mind with her false insistence of his desire to submit to the will of one who was stronger than he could ever be. Not only that, but the physical degradation as well, the mare forcing him, patriarch of the Celestial Guard and warden of the Celestial Levels, to service her vile needs and provide her with the satisfaction that her lurid body seemed to continuously crave, employing him as little more than a toy with which to occupy herself.

And yet, deep inside of his soul, Tiberius felt some unknown instinct respond to his humiliation, and worse yet draw arousal from it. Beneath him, the alicorn's cock stood at full attention, a fine display of male virility that Trixie had been all too keen to play with. In all his fifteen hundred years, Tiberius had waged wars, killed hundreds, and fought on the frontlines of combat in accordance with the demands of duty, courage, and honour; he was a strong stallion, forged so by the hammer of brutal training against the anvil of war. And yet, when Trixie had taken his cock into her mouth, and he had released not a moment later, Tiberius had never felt so weak and defenceless. The sexual insecurity, the unknown yet omnipresent humiliation that his lack of stamina brought to the forefront of his psyche, was one of the most unsettling sensations that he'd ever had the misfortune of experiencing; something that pierced through his perception of his own masculinity and made the stallion tremble before the devious talents of his tormentor.

And yet still the aberrancy within him craved it.

Trixie continued to lay before the alicorn, basking in the soothing afterglow of her release. It was addictive; the sense of power and control she drew from dominating the alicorn in such away, emasculating him and exposing the weaknesses of his body, slowly wearing away at his preconceptions of himself until all that remained was the fragile, malleable core of his soul, simply waiting for a mare like herself to reshape him into a much more pleasing individual; one who, though unable to sate her needs, would certainly be able to accommodate her desires. The mare let a hoof drift between her hind-legs, gently running over the sensitive flesh of her sex, sighing as phantom twitches of her dissipating climax ran up her spine, saturating her being with the sexual stimulation it demanded.

From somewhere in the darkness, beyond her sight at the end of the gantry, came the dull grinding over the null chambers access bulkhead opening, accompanied shortly afterwards by the sound of two individuals making their way down the Megastructure gantry. Trixie paid no mind to the encroaching intruders, but Tiberius tensed once more, wanting to retreat away from whoever was approaching. He didn't want to be seen like this, stripped of his pride and blinded, the sexual fluids of his warden dripping from his chin, whilst his shame remained exposed for any observer to witness. The fear of such exposure bordered on primal, and for a brief moment such instinct to flee briefly took control of his body, disregarding the constriction of his bindings and forcing him to move.

It was a foalish mistake.

The hollow of the null chamber rang with the patriarchs screams, the immediate area surrounding the alicorn becoming bathed in a bloody scarlet glow as his bindings punished him for attempting to escape, lances nerve-shredding fire coursing through his being. Returning to his area of confinement, Tiberius gasped for air as the pain began to die away, his lungs burning as his brutalised body twitched and shuddered with lingering currents of agony. From the shadows emerged the short, squat form of a young, chubby alicorn, clad in grey-blue armour, followed by the tall, gangly form of another, this one covered by armour of an amber-yellow colouration. The foremost of the two, the squat alicorn who went by the name of Snips, looked from Trixie, sprawled on the floor and panting lightly, to Tiberius, a pitiful, wretched sight of a once proud warrior, and back to Trixie, a jealous scowl marring his stubby muzzle.

"Lord Sombra requests your presence, my lady," Snips stated, his voice oddly high pitched for a colt his age. "He says that the time has come." Trixie groaned slightly in annoyance at the intrusion of her specimens education, but nonetheless rolled over onto her stomach before stretching her hind-legs; her rump pressed into the air only a few inches below Tiberius' muzzle, the scent of her excitement once again filling his senses. Standing fully upright, Trixie shook her head, her mane a cascade of silken strands as it fell back into its customary position. Moaning lightly as the burst of movement stimulate the still sensitive flesh of her sex, the mare turned to her captive, stepping up to him and placing a hoof on his cheek, telekinetically gripping his horn and pulling his head down until his muzzle was on level with her own.

Simultaneously, a collar comprised of bloody scarlet energy formed around the patriarch's neck, locking into place to form one continuously seal, a leash of the same energy sprouting from the collar's front and moving through the air with serpentine grace to wrap itself round Trixie's right fore-leg. Though blind, Tiberius could feel the collar lock itself around his neck, its presence causing the sense of shame in his soul to flare. It was humiliating to say the least, a Post-Equine such as himself tethered by the whims of a filthy Pre-Equine, a creature that was evolutionarily inferior to himself. Furthermore the concept of being controlled by a mare rankled what little masculine pride he had left, wearing away still further his own sense of self. He was Tiberius, a warrior of the Levels, and he was beholden to none save Faust and the princess he was charged with protecting.

But you failed, didn't you? You failed and this is your penance.

The errant thought skittered through his confusion, serving only to exacerbate his shame. No matter how much he wanted, or tried, to deny it, ultimately he knew it was futile to resist the truth; he had failed, failed in his duties, failed in his orders. Barely more than twenty hours had passed after the death of Shining Armour that he ascended into the rank of patriarch, and already he had failed in a most fundamental way; Cadence had fallen into the clutches of Sombra, the Celestial Guard had been massacred, and the royal bloodline of Canterlot had been removed from power. His defeat was so utter, so all consuming, that even the mere thought of it sent his stomach churning and his mind weeping. Tiberius didn't want to surrender, he didn't want to accept defeat. He wanted to run, to find a place where none of this could ever possibly return to him and live out the rest eternity hidden from the rest of the world.

But even in thoughts of retreat he could find no solace from his shame. What kind of patriarch would he be if he turned tail and fled? What would Shining Armour think if he saw he successor flee from his duties and hide like a foal fleeing parental discipline? As patriarch he could never surrender, never stop fighting; he was honour bound to war on until the bitter end, until the last breath of life left his body and his soul finally guttered and died. But what use was there in continuing to fight? Sombra had complete control of the Celestial Levels, and Tiberius had more than a sneaking suspicion that the dark alicorn also had designs for the rest of Canterlot. There was nowhere to flee to, no way to fight back, it would have been a suicidal fight, but he couldn't surrender either, or bring even greater shame upon himself, and by extension the Celestial Guard and even Cadence herself.

The confusing mass of thought and fear tumbled over and over in his mind, and deep within himself Tiberius knew that such discord would prove to be his undoing.  

Trixie began to lap at the remaining stains of fluid that coated his muzzle, her tongue soft and warm against his coat, her touch once more filling his body with the perverse thrill of desire. The grooming only took a few moments, Trixie's caress soft and delicate, and at complete odds with that of the sadistic nymph who'd occupied her body not a mere minute before. There was almost something maternal about the way she licked him clean, as if she regarded Tiberius as something to be raised and nurtured into its true form, and it only served to compound his shame. Finishing, Trixie smiled happily to herself, Leaning up and giving Tiberius' ear a small nibble before promptly turning and tugging firmly on the leash, causing the alicorn to stumble forwards a few halting steps. He tensed, awaiting the punishment for leaving his confinement, yet the agony failed to materialise, and it was only after Trixie gave the leash another harsh tug that he realised he was being led out from his cell, back into the reality of the world.

His steps were slow and hesitant at first, his lack of sight preventing him from taking the long, confident strides he was used to. Not only that, but Tiberius was painfully aware of just how narrow the gantry leading to his disk was, and that in his condition a fall from said gantry, whilst not fatal, would be a painful experience to say the least. Trixie, however, didn't seem inclined to allow him to acclimate to the situation, yet another prompt tug pulling him forwards. The two alicorns of Trixie's bodyguard spun and returned the way they came, Tiberius only being able to make out their movements from the light growl of their armour, as synthetic ligaments thrummed into life and the idle internal reactor cycled back up. The going across the gantry was thankfully slow paced, as they had to walk single file, the dull grinding of the access bulkhead alerting Tiberius that they were approaching the end.

A gentle, warm breeze caressed the patriarch as he was led from the null-chamber, the atmosphere of the Celestial Levels being much warmer than the interior of the null chamber. Tiberius shuddered slightly as he emerged, goose-bumps rising across the back of his neck as he finally returned to the world. He breathed deeply of the fresh air, taking as much of it into his lungs as possible, feeling it cycle out the stale, frigid air of the null chamber and fill his body with a soothing warmth. Alas, he wasn't given time to savour his brief exposure to freedom before the leash was tugged once more, and he was forced to stumble on after his mistress, being led onwards to an unknown destination.

The journey was one of stumbling confusion and rushed progress, Trixie leading him through the darkness with deft tugs on his leash, drawing him around any corners and obstacles.

It was only after Trixie had halted him on what was revealed to be some sort of moving platform that Tiberius realised, with some trepidation, how deep into the labyrinth they were going. Blind as he was, Tiberius had spent all of the fifteen hundred years of his existence in the Celestial Levels, and such an existence had bred in him an intuition with the structure of his habitat. It was this sense of understanding with the very fabric of the Celestial Levels that informed the patriarch he was being led deeper into the city's super-structure, minute changes in air pressure and temperature informing his finely tuned instincts that step by step he was pressing deeper into the fabric of the Levels, into the abandoned and haunted chambers of the Inner City.

Once, it was told, the Celestial Levels had housed more than the mere ten thousand or so alicorns that comprised celestial society. Legends spoke of a time before the Shattering, a time when the Celestial Levels had teemed with Post-Equine life, and even the deepest halls had hummed with the bustling activity of immortal life. Of those ancient days, little was now known, save by those few rare individuals who had lived through such times; Princess Cadence and Lord Sombra. But the legacy of the Ancient Age still remained in Canterlot, forged into the very structure of the Celestial Levels. Beneath the surface of the Levels, where the remaining alicorns made their homes, were miles upon miles of dark halls and abandoned chamber, empty, silent, and inhabited only by the lingering ghosts of those who had come before.

Such places were shunned by any sane individual, and all knew that only the mad or deranged would ever dare to make a permanent residence amongst the bones of the dead. Innumerable stories circulated the Levels about the true nature of the Inner City, of what really lurked beneath the shining veneer of the outer facade. Nought but dust, said some; the Inner City had been abandoned for thousands of years, there was nothing that still could survive amidst the decayed remains of its former inhabitants, even alicorns required food and drink. Ghosts, said others; the spirits of those who still clung bitterly to the last remaining vestiges of their former lives, driven by the emptiness of their wretched existence to seek the warmth and flesh of those who yet lived, stalking through the shadows in search of sustenance their incorporeal bodies no longer required. There was certainly no end to the apocryphal tales that circulated the Levels, but all agreed on one thing.

That buried within the Inner City were relics from the Ancient Age.  

In comparison to every single zone that existed upon the face of Equestria, the Celestial Levels were paramount in terms of technological advancement. Here, science and technology were at their greatest extremes, pushed beyond the boundaries of what even the most intellectual of the Pre-Equines could begin to fathom. Nowhere else in the world did there exist such miracles as there did in the Levels; aethermancy, biomancy, atomancy, and even more beyond that. Whilst in the Cyber-Polities, the most advanced of the Pre-Equine enclaves of Canterlot, these schools of knowledge did exist, they did so in much more primitive forms, barely understood by the mortals who dabbled in them. Aethermancy in particular, the blending of magic and technology, was the one true science that could only be understood by the Post-Equines of the Levels, brought to its pinnacle in the form of the Eternity Matrix; the massive and ancient quantum cogitator, the network of which delved deep through the Megastructure of Canterlot, reaching as far as the Eye of Faust itself.              

And yet, despite the plethora of knowledge they held in their hooves, the Post-Equines lived in ignorance of the inner workings of their technology. Whilst they were in possession of a great many standard construction templates and accurate replication engines, the actual process of the creation of such devices was little more than a copy and paste procedure, played out on a highly advanced scale. In truth, for all their grandiose claims of supremacy, the alicorns were little better than any of the Pre-Equines they looked down upon, just as ignorant as any of the ponies that inhabited the zones of Equestria. Who actually knew what arcane process allowed a gauss-lancer to produce such destructive beams of energy, and it was all but a mystery as to what atomantic energies permeated the venerable weapons of the Levels, such as Starlight Wrath, and gave them the ability to split their targets with a nanoscopic level of precision.

Over the centuries, this ignorance had lead to the loss of many ancient and highly arcane devices, their means of replication lost and they few remaining models so valuable that they could never be exposed to testing. Such devices were incredibly rare and incalculably valuable, and it was rumoured that deep within the Inner City there still remained caches of such treasures, locked behind doors of adamantium and sealed with aethereal wards of terrible potency. Once every few decades it was common for parties of hunters, usually scavengers from the weaker houses, to launch expeditions into the interior of the Levels in search of such things, seeking the terrible relics of the Ancient Age. Most never returned, becoming lost within the haunted darkness of the Inner City, and those few that did return usually came back insane, babbling incoherently about lightless depths and ancient, malign sentience. Yet still there were those who not only returned sane, but had also succeeded in their quest, bringing with them dust-laden engines and stasis-preserved tomes. Always these rare individuals were highly praised for their efforts, and elevated to positions of extreme rank and wealth, but they were still few in number, and their retrieved relics too little to prevent the gradual decay of the tech-pool.

Their journey upon the moving platform wasn't a swift one, though through his own intuition Tiberius could tell they were moving at great speed. After the Inner City had been abandoned, the enormous ventilation shafts that had supplied the area with fresh air from the surface had been sealed off, causing the dark atmosphere of the urban labyrinth to stagnate, with nary a breath of wind nor the slightest hint of even a draught, and yet he could sense in his soul that with every second that passed he was sinking deeper into the winding maze, being drawn further from the comforting light of the holy sun. Tiberius suddenly became painfully aware that even if he were able to effect a successful escape at this very moment, such freedom would prove of little use to him. He had no idea of how deep into Canterlot's super-structure he'd been led, and, being blind as he was, would be unable to trace his route back to the surface. A forlorn sense of hopelessness settled over him, cutting away at the few glimmers of hope he still tended in his heart.    

A weight pressed itself against his side, bleeding heat into his body, and it wasn't until Tiberius felt a muzzle brush against his fore-leg that he could confirm that it was Trixie who was pressed against his flank, nuzzling him affectionately. The mare was a contradiction to Tiberius, at once a vicious sadist and a caring, almost maternal individual. Already during his education, Trixie had cut open his skin more than once, and had derived a sick form of sexual pleasure from watching ultramarine fluid leak from his body, even going so far as to let the vitae soak her hoof before rubbing it across her body, being certain to give a fair coating of the fluid to her sex as well. His horn had received similar treatment, its once magnificent helical spiral now marred by deep gouges and worn smooth where she'd put her file to use.

Trixie had certainly not been halted by her inhibitions.

Yet after each wound had served its purpose, and the agony had faintly subsided, the mare had been prompt to patch him back together, using her aethereal talents to knit his wounds shut and to dull the pain, all the while whispering soothing words and reassurances to him, which disturbed Tiberius to no end. After each session the mare even insisted she lay with him, allowing Tiberius to collapse to the floor before folding her body against his and resting in silence for an indeterminate amount of time, nuzzling against him like a close lover, before she would pull him from the ground and the cycle of agony and ecstasy would begin anew. The mare was certainly a creature driven by her passions, and already Tiberius had contemplated on the notion that so great was her sexual drive that the mare's consciousness had separated into two components; that of the sadistic aberrant, and the caring, maternal mare, both cycling in and out of control once their subjective urges had been satisfied.

The immense weight of the psychological trauma necessary to drive a mare to such a fragmented, unrestrained existence was something that Tiberius feared to consider, and a fate that he dread for himself. Trixie had already revealed her foalhood rape as being the cause of her initial trauma, but Tiberius, though lacking any advanced knowledge in the field of psychology, suspected that such an event, though traumatic in itself, would not be enough to drive the mare to such insanity. No, Tiberius suspected that the item she wore around her neck, the Alicorn Amulet as she'd referred to it, was the true cause of Trixie's deviancy. He had already seen a demonstration of its power during Sombra's assault when the mare had simultaneously vaporised fifty alicorns in the blink of an eye; a feat that required an aethereal capacity not a single Pre-Equine in existence could naturally possess. There was a malignancy that hung about the item, an aura of veiled evil that hinted at the amulets true alignment and function. Not only that, but the necklace shared many aesthetic similarities with Sombra's crown, arousing Tiberius' suspicions to no end as to the origin and true loyalty of the Alicorn Amulet.    

He felt the platform come to a halt, though the air remained deadly silent, a sharp tug on his leash not a moment later confirming his suspicion that they had arrived at their undisclosed location. Once more his steps were slow and uncertain as he was led forwards, fumbling blindly in the darkness, and praying that he wasn't being led to his execution; an irrational fear, perhaps, given Trixie's apparent attraction to him, but not a notion he could simply discard. As the group fully stepped off the platform their combined hooves sent eerie, haunting echoes reverberating through the empty halls of the Inner City, Tiberius' ears listening as the echoes travelled further and further away, gradually growing more dim. To him it seemed the sound had travelled for miles, and an image formed in his mind of ancient, tortured things amidst the dust-laden chambers raising their heads, disturbed from whatever dark activities had possessed them by the sound of intruders in their twilight realm.

Proceeding onwards, Trixie trotted happily through the empty halls, flanked on either side by her loyal bodyguards, as she led him, her new acquisition closer to their destination. Their journey was thankfully uneventful, Tiberius listening intently over the echoes of their hooves for any signs of movement, anything that might indicate that something was stalking them. More than once a faint flicker of noise had caught his attention, his senses straining to pick up any additional information. Post-Equines were born with naturally heightened senses in comparison to those of the Pre-Equine population, able to experience life on an elevated plain of sensory awareness. Though his magic was blocked, his sight blinded, and the air too laden with dust to allow him to smell the presence of a stalker, Tiberius had long learnt to trust his instincts, and as he heard what sounded like the swish of fabric moving through a faint breeze for what may have been the third or fourth time, he knew that someone, something, was following them.

Snips and Snails could sense it to, the faint hum of their power armour cycling up as obvious as a war-cry to an experienced soldier like Tiberius. They were steeling themselves, preparing for combat in the event that whatever trailed them suddenly became too bold and decided there was no further need for deception. Once more the image of decayed, ghoulish beings coming to the fore of his mind. Prickles ran across his skin, an instinctual response that informed the alicorn he was being watch, and the image shifted to that of a skeletal Post-Equine muzzle, its grey coat pulled taunt over its skull, the two sunken pits of its eyes glowing with cold witch-fire.

Suddenly they came to a halt, the abrupt finish of the loud tread of those upfront informing the patriarch to stop. Casting the image from his mind, Tiberius focussed on his immediate surroundings, though the fear of the unknown still lingered within him at the back of his thoughts. The air was different here, not stagnant and heavy with the dust of antiquity, but charged with a subtle undercurrent of aethereal power, as if he were stood on the precipice of a great well of power. Even the floor beneath his hooves was warm, sending faint thermal currents tickling along the underside of his barrel. His ears twitched as he heard somepony step forward from the group, Trixie given the lightness of their tread, and deactivate some form of protective ward, the air ringing with the faint, high-pitched thrum of power. There was a moment of silence, and then it was as if someone had opened the gates of Tartarus .

An intense wave of fierce heat washed over him, so hot that even taking a breath felt like his lungs were being scorched. Over the sound of himself gasping for air, there ran a deep, throbbing note of bass, pulsing through the air in long, drawn out oscillations. His wings flittered in agitation at the sudden change in temperature, Tiberius trying to pull back before a sharp jolt of energy emanated from the collar and shocked him into submission. Pulling on the leash, Trixie signalled that they were continuing onwards, though Tiberius only followed unwillingly. Passing through whatever portal Trixie had opened, Tiberius heard it close behind them with the dull grinding of ancient gears, a heavy clunk signalling that the access bulkhead had sealed itself with some rather formidable locks.

Within the chamber, the silence of the Inner City was replaced with the constant note of bass that had begun not a moment before, pulsing like the beat of some monolithic heart.        

Whatever great hollow they had entered must have been enormous, as there were no echoes to be heard as they continued onwards. Beneath his hooves Tiberius felt the temperature of the floor rising rapidly, this time not a general heat, but much more precise and fine, as if it were following set channels rather than simply diffusing through the ground. The continuous pulse began to hurt his ears after only a few seconds, each beat causing his brain to ache, as if someone had beaten his skull against the floor with a force-hammer. The size of the chamber was only impressed upon Tiberius even further as they walked for nearly a full two minutes before they came to a stop, their final one if Tiberius' suspicions were true. Coming to a halt he paused for a moment before feeling Trixie place a hoof on his cheek, gently stroking him before reaching up behind his head and pulling on the knot that held his blind in place. "You may want to see this, my dear," she whispered in his ear before, with a final tug, she removed the blind with a flourish. It took several seconds for Tiberius to acclimate to the harsh, pink light of the chamber before he fully realised where he was; both confirming his suspicions and causing his heart to leap into his throat.

He was at the very heart of Canterlot, stood before the Eternity Matrix itself.

The chamber Trixie had led him into was an enormous circular shaft a kilometre across, lit only by the pulsing glow of the Eternity Matrix: a thick trunk of black-grey metal and pulsing, bloody pink light, which sunk down into the depths below and rose up into the darkness above. The Eternity Matrix itself must have been two hundred meters in diameter, suspended in the very centre of the shaft, and accessed by six broad gantries that were spread apart at equal distances around the chamber, radial spokes that terminated in another ring which surrounded the core. The cogitators surface was a confusing mass of black, silhouetted panels and blinding rays of light; the panels covered in intricate patterns of circuitry that glowed the same harsh pink as the rest of the machine. Looking up, Tiberius' eyes followed the Eternity Matrix as it rose higher and higher, its pink glow illuminating the shaft as it climbed until it once more disappeared into the darkness, its light too weak to be seen by the naked eye.

Turning his gaze downwards, Tiberius saw that the strange patterns of circuitry were even engrained into the surface of the gantry he was stood upon; most likely the cause for the strange precision of the heat he felt through his hooves. As it was above, it was below, and the Eternity Matrix sunk deep into the depths of the shaft, until once more it was consumed by shadows. The patriarch felt an incredible sense of awe overcome him as he realised that he was standing before the very heart of Canterlot, the single most valuable piece of machinery in the entire city. The shaft he was stood in ran all the way from the subterranean hollows beneath the city, where the Eye of Faust resided, all the way up and out into the great void, with the Eternity Matrix running nearly its entire length. A sensation of inferiority settled over Tiberius, not the sexual weakness that Trixie had impressed upon him, but one that reminded him just how minute and inconsequential he was before the epic scale of creation; a drop of water in the vast ocean of existence.

Though a high-ranking individual in celestial society, Tiberius had never actually dreamed of coming so close to the ancient cogitator, much less stand before it and feel its roaring heat upon his coat. Access to the machine was severely restricted to the aethermancers of the Levels, the few individuals who were actually capable of comprehending even a fraction of the quantum engines unlimited potential. The Eternity Matrix was an incredible fusion of science and magic; the roiling, raw power of the arcane contained within a shell of circuitry, metal, and technology. Its computing capacity was virtually limitless, powered as it was by energies that could never been truly comprehended. Because of this, the aethermancers, and their ability to interface with the machine, were highly valuable assets to the courts, treated with wealth and status that outranked even his own.

But of course, such riches came at a terrible price.

Though not essentially diametrically opposed, magic and technology were still two opposing factors, and it was not without some difficulty that they could be bonded together. Enchanting was simple enough, the application of a certain trait to a physical item using magic being quite common. But actually intertwining the two, either generating aethereal energy via some artificial means or producing a machine that could channel the incredible power of the aether, was an incredibly difficult task. The Post-Equines of the Levels were still capable of such a feat, mostly in the form of rare venerable weapons, but something on the truly vast scale of the Eternity Matrix was beyond their ability to manufacture. Not only that, but the combining of such dissimilar sciences often led to the creation of incredibly toxic, and often highly unstable, bi-products of exotic matter, neither physical or magical. The image of Urial, the courts former aethermancer, as his skeletal frame stood trembling and shaking, poisoned by the very engine he was charged with maintaining, came to the fore of the patriarchs mind, making him cringe inwardly. Urial had always been a sickly creature, and such a fate through similar exposure was something he was keen to avoid; dying of radiation exposure was no way for a warrior to die.            

But then again, an eternity of serving the sexual desires of a maniacal witch was no way for a warrior to live either.

"My lord," Trixie's voice called out, drawing Tiberius back from his contemplation and turning his attention to his immediate surroundings. Bringing his head up from the floor, Tiberius felt a sharp jolt of fear run through his being as he saw the mare bowing before Lord Sombra, the dark alicorn nodding in recognition of the mare's greeting, followed quickly by a rush of hatred and shame. The dark alicorn was resplendent in his battle armour, a terrifying visage of strength, power, and violence. The plates of his armour gleamed with the shine of newly forged ceramite, clearly replacements for those that had been ruptured during  his conquest of the throne room. The cape on his back also appeared to be a new edition, the scarlet red fur and ermine white trim providing a fittingly regal countenance to his utilitarian battle armour, completing the image of a warrior-king. Sombra's attention flitted from his witch to her captive, his fanged maw splitting in an evil grin as he gazed upon Tiberius.

"I see you have brought the patriarch with you. Good... I would like him to see this." Sombra stepped past Trixie and over Tiberius, stepping only a mere two feet away. "How has my witch been treating you, honoured patriarch?" he asked in a mocking tone, the very sound of it causing Tiberius to grit his teeth, the fire of hatred seizing his heart. "I trust she has not been too... unethical, in terms of your education? I must confess, even I flinch at the concept of being subject to her whims; she is a sadistic creature, and more than one stallion has been driven to madness by her... affections." Sombra's grin spread wider still, a devilish glitter in his eyes. "I had not thought to make you privy to what is about to unfold. But now that you are present, I find your presence at such a historical event quite fitting. It had been a dream of mine to make Shining Armour bear witness to the death of his beloved world, and the rise of the new order, but in his stead as patriarch you make for a worthy substitute." Sombra chuckled. "True, it shall not be husband and wife who shall bear testament to my final victory, but it shall be satisfying all the same."  

Tiberius growled, fury and pure, unadulterated hatred building within him. As Sombra turned away, the patriarch replied, his voice little more than a seething hiss. "Murderer!"

"Perhaps. Others would say my actions are righteous."

Glaring at him as the dark alicorn stepped away, Tiberius felt the uncontrollable urge to attack seize his body, compelling him into motion. He wanted nothing more than the wipe the smug grin of victory from Sombra's face, and smash his muzzle into the gantry beneath them until his teeth shattered and the dark alicorns features were nothing but bloody pulp. He wanted vengeance, both for his defeat and his subsequent humiliation. He wanted justice for the atrocities that the stallion had perpetrated. The riot of emotion clouded his judgement, and Tiberius had failed to take even a single step towards his target before the collar around his neck suddenly flared with energy. A vicious, numbing pain ran through his body, every nerve screaming as he was saturated with liquid fire. He hooves became locked to the ground, and when he opened his muzzle to scream, all that came out was a muted whimper. Instantly Trixie was by his side, a sadistic grin on her face. "Ah, ah, ah, my dear. Surely you must know it is rude to attack your superiors.

The words only inflamed his hatred, not only for Sombra but for himself. Here was the stallion who had brought about the downfall of all he had been sworn to protect, and yet he was unable to even take a single step towards him in vengeance. The impotence of his fury caused his sense of shame to magnify exponentially, humiliated at his inability to take action whilst Sombra achieved his final victory before his very eyes. His gaze followed Sombra, trailing before the dark alicorns path to settle on his bodyguard: ten large, heavily armoured stallions, each most likely heads of the ten most loyal houses that marched under Sombra's banner. As his attention switched between each of them, his soldiers instincts noting their weapons, armour, and combat potential, he noted that there was an eleventh individual amongst them, one who was much smaller than the alicorns who surrounded her. Tiberius felt his burning shame rise to a searing inferno.

It was Princess Cadence.  

Though she had lost her husband, witnessed her courtiers being massacred, been forced to abdicate from the throne that was rightfully hers, and made a concubine of her conqueror, the princess still radiated an aura of power, one that spoke of authority and that commanded respect. Even here, hold hostage by Sombra's bodyguard whilst forced to watch the end of her world, she stood tall in the face of her defeat, regal and majestic as ever. Even the alicorns surrounding her, soldiers who had willingly followed Sombra into rebellion, and who had long since despised her for the displacement of their houses, were respectfully silent as they stood about her, the age old instinct of compliance to the royal bloodline still strong within them. As if she could sense his eyes upon her, Cadence turned her attention to Tiberius, gazing at him with a steely intensity he found unnerving.

There were many emotions behind her eyes, things that only one who had spent an extended amount of time with her could have truly spotted. Anger, humiliation, fear, determination, resignation; Tiberius had never seen his princess so internally conflicted. Yet there was one thing that was absent, something he had expected and was shocked to find missing; accusation. It had been his fault that she had fallen, he was the one who had been charged with her defence, who had led the Celestial Guard into combat against Sombra and been defeat. As odd as it was, he needed Cadence to realise that, as if her blame would provide him with some aberrant form of closure. But there was no such emotion in her gaze, no blame or hatred of him for his failure, and that only served to compound the shame that already threatened to snuff out his soul.

Unable to hold her gaze, he looked away, sickened with his own lack of conviction. Perhaps if he had been stronger, if he had been more committed and given his all he might have succeeded. It had been his duty to defend her, and if necessary sell his own life to see that she came to no harm, and yet here he was, collared as a pet for a sadistic deviant for her own satisfaction; alive. Words couldn't properly define the level of self-disgust that filled him, the hatred he felt for his continued existence blacker than the most virulent poison.

Stepping up to the edge of the wide ring that circled the Eternity Matrix, Sombra turned back to survey the small congregation before him, his eyes resting on each individual before he began to speak. "For seven thousand years, the alicorns of the Celestial Levels have been locked within a gilded cage, trapped by the tectology of the Levels and our own physiology. Once, we ruled as Gods over the Pre-Equines below; not merely the populace of Canterlot, but of the whole world. There is not a single Post-Equine here who has not heard tales of the ancient days, and longed for a return to the time when we held Equestria in our hooves, and our every whim was catered to by those who knew their true places in the grand order of existence."

"For seven thousand years, we have dreamed, and yet all this time we have already had in our possession the power to restore ourselves to our rightful positions as rulers of the globe. Yet, the one who called herself our princess hid such means from us, and left us to stagnate and die whilst the vermin below have spread and multiplied. For too long have we been forced to watch as our inferiors violate the mandates of creation, as their knowledge of their subservience has slipped from their mind. No more!" Sombra glared towards Cadence, the mare's expression dangerously passive. "It is the obligation of a ruler to ensure that their ponies survive and prosper, and for too long has our princess failed to fulfil that obligation. What I do now, I do because it must be done. The old order has failed, and in its place a new one must arise. It is the duty of the strong to govern the weak, and there are none stronger than the alicorns! The Post-Equines of Canterlot shall rule Equestria again, and with this first act I shall lead us on the path that shall lead to our rightful reinstatement!"

The shaft filled with the roars of Sombra's supporters, their voices raised to echoing cries as they stamped their armoured hooves against the Megastructure surface of the gantry. Turning his back on the gathering, Sombra's horn began to glow a bloody scarlet, pulling an object from his flank that, in his anger, Tiberius had failed to notice: Starlight Wrath. Once again his hated surged, the patriarch opening his muzzle to decry Sombra, and how he had no right to be in possession of such a weapon, but before a single syllable could pass his lips the numbing agony returned, nothing but a mute whine emanating from his throat; against his side, Trixie purred in content at the sight.

Taking Starlight Wrath in his grip, Sombra raised the venerable weapon, which sprang to life as he held it out parallel to the floor, scintillating flickers of cyan lighting skittering across the surfaces of its twin head. As the weapon cycled up a sudden change swept through the atmosphere of the shaft, the deep throbbing of the Eternity Matrix increasing in tempo as the harsh, pink light of the core began to pulse. Beneath his hooves, Tiberius could feel a current of power running through the engraved circuitry towards Sombra, the floor beneath the dark alicorn beginning to glow brightly, becoming so hot that a shimmering haze began to rise up all around him, distorting his image. The rest of the chamber seemed to dim, as if something within the cogitator, perhaps an ancient form of artificial intelligence, of a semi-sentient data-spirit was focussing its attention upon the dark alicorn. The very air itself seemed to shift, something unseen stirring itself from millennia of lethargy and awakening to find intruders within its realm. Tiberius had the sudden, highly uncomfortable feeling of being watched.

The surface of the Eternity Matrix abruptly cracked, the disjointed mosaic of black panels covering its surface readjusting themselves to form a three meter wide portal, big enough for Sombra to step through, that led into the inner workings of the machine, through which poured blinding pink light. From the portal there came a beam of intense energy, much brighter than the light surrounding it, and tinted a deeper shade of pink. The beam focussed on the bridge of Sombra's muzzle, remaining fixed there for a full three seconds before splitting into a much wider funnel of laser-light, running along the full height of dark alicorn's body as it scanned every detail of his being, before focussing on Starlight Wrath; Sombra remaining motionless for the whole process. The atmosphere about the onlookers became tense, every individual, even Cadence herself, aware that they were watching a procedure that had not occurred in millennia, and most likely would never be repeated in their immortal lifetimes.

Suddenly the beam simply dissipated, shutting off in the blink of an eye. Tiberius knew that what he was observing was completely uncharted territory, and that it was more than likely that even the aethermancers never had this level of interface with the Eternity Matrix, though he had more than a sneaking feeling that Sombra knew exactly what he was doing. Following the dissipation of the beam nothing of any note happened for several long, drawn out seconds, the whole party waiting with baited breath for what would come next. The blinding portal into the machines inner workings remained open, however, and Sombra remained motionless before it. He was waiting for something, Tiberius realised; Sombra was waiting for confirmation from the machine, waiting to see if it would accept the access code it seemed that Starlight Wrath had provided.

Access key accepted.

The words that echoed through Tiberius' head came from no physical source; no new speaker presented themselves to the assembled onlookers. Instead, it was as if the words were being projected into his mind, the Eternity Matrix forgoing a physical interface and instead establishing a direct uplink with minds of all who were present. Glancing about, Tiberius noted that everyone save Cadence and Sombra wore looks of surprise and confusion on their faces, even Trixie, all of them looking about for the words origins. Realising that a key event was about to unfold, Tiberius fixed his gaze on the gaping hole in the surface of the Eternity Matrix, forcing himself to gaze into the depths of the ancient machine.

From the blinding portal emerged an alicorn.

The imitation was so realistic that Tiberius didn't realise he was looking at a machine until it had fully stepped out of the opening. Though the alicorn seemed real enough, possessing the form of a tall, elegant mare with a coat of unadulterated white and a pastel pink mane, her skin was merely a facade; a hologram formed of solid-state light. Beneath the mare's insubstantial outer layer was a pony shaped construct of the same black metal of the plates that covered the Matrix: a small, boxish head supported by a thin pipe serving as a neck, which in turn was attached to a angular, sharp-edged cuboid, with the whole machine supported by four thin, needle-like legs. The accuracy of the hologram, the sheer realism of its outward projection, was simply staggering in its authenticity. Save for a few subtle giveaways; the dark outline of the internal components, the slightly animatronic sway of its movements, the illusion was so life-like that Tiberius would have had trouble distinguishing the difference between the machine and an actually pony.

The walking machine slowly turned its gaze upon the assembled ponies, its eyes, bright orbs of iridescent, flaming pink energy, taking note of all who were present before finally focussing on the one who held the access key in his hooves. The machine's projection radiated a similar air of authority to that of Cadence, something about its terrible gaze causing a disquieting in the patriarch soul as he briefly became the item of its attention. Briefly he wondered at how a machine could possibly command such power, but as it refocused on Sombra a symbol on its flank caught his eye, his attention shifting to it. What he saw there inspired awe, terror, and wonderment, the alicorn instantly dropping to his knees, the others doing so near simultaneously as they came to the same epiphany.

Marking the creatures flank was the radial sun; the cutie mark of Celestia herself.

Many tales were told of the celestial sisters and their exploits, of how they had been present at the birth of the world, and stood by Faust's side as the Goddess had shaped creation to her own liking. To the ponies of Equestria, the two served as objects of intense reverence, the sisters themselves being the primary saints of the Faustian faith. Across the face of the world their exploits were legendary, immortalised both in the holy scriptures of the Testament and in the minds of the entire equine species. To the ponies of Canterlot in particular, the two were venerated for a very specific reason: it had been they who had laid the first foundation stones of the Godscraper. From the fields of the agricultural belt to the peak of the Celestial Levels, there wasn't a pony alive in the city of Canterlot who refused to pay their respects to the holy saints, even those who were of an atheistic outlook acknowledging their importance in the city's foundation.

However, for all the veneration that they received, it remained unknown as to how the two most powerful alicorns in the history of existence had met their deaths. There were few records amongst the archives of the Celestial Levels that could provide an accurate account of the world before the Shattering, and even those that did survive often contradicted each other regularly as to the state of the world. Some records whispered of an event known as the Nightmare Heresy, when Luna had fallen victim to a darkness of the soul and swathed the world in a cloak of darkness for nearly three centuries before dying by the blade of her own sister. Others stated that upon the eve of the Shattering, Faust had warned her true daughters of the fate of the world, and had lifted them from the entrapment of physical existence to become a part of her holy realm. Regardless, it was clear it had been millennia since the demigods had walked upon the face of Equestria, and in the seven thousand years since the Shattering no one had ever been able to replicate the sheer scope and impact of their actions in shaping the fate of the equine race.

Despite the aura of intense religious reverence that surrounded him, Sombra remained unbowed along with his witch, a predatory grin slowly spreading across his muzzle as he took in the sight of his ancient nemesis; the very pony who had destroyed all he had ever held dear reduced to little more than a decaying data-spirit, locked away within the circuitry of the Eternity Matrix and unable to physically interact with reality. The irony of the demigod's fate was not lost on the dark alicorn: once he had been helpless before the mare, forced to watch as Celestia had ordered the execution of his daughters and ordered the enslavement of the crystal ponies, destroying all that he had been sworn to protect. Now the tables were turned, and Celestia was helpless before him, her physical prison, the Eternity Matrix, soon to become the very engine of destruction that would bring the world she had loved to its knees. The rush of exultation that ran through him was one that he had waited eight thousand years to feel, and as it poured through his body Sombra threw his head back, muzzle open as he roared with laughter; a harsh, animalistic expression of victory.

As the laughter died, its echoes reverberating up and down the monumental length of the Canterlot's central shaft, Sombra's grin returned even more vicious and savage. Within his eyes gleamed an expression that spoke of a mixture between electric thrill and soul-scourging hatred. The dark alicorn looked the machine up and down, chuckling deeply to himself. "Behold, that demigod Celestia!" he told his followers, the alicorns raising their heads from the ground. "Behold the founder of Canterlot and the true daughter of Faust!" Another burst of cackling laughter tore itself from Sombra's throat. "Tell me, Celestia, are you still in there? Do you still recognise me? Do you remember what you did to me?" Sombra asked as his mirth died once more, though his grin remained as strong as ever. The hologram made no move to show its recognition of his questions, its auroral eyes simply remaining locked on him, its features passive and serene.

Command not recognised.

As the words echoed through the minds of all present, the air was split again by Sombra's maniacal vocalisations of his victory, the dark alicorn practically howling. Tiberius felt unnerved by the whole exchange, the premise of it troubling him to his core. The way Sombra acted, and the questions he'd asked, as if he knew Celestia personally, gave him a deep sense of disturbance, and the dark alicorns roaring cries of victory certainly weren't helping either. On every occasion that he and Sombra had met face to face the dark alicorn had always been calm and composed, his every action calculated and every word uttered in exact adherence to an internal pattern that only he would be able to divine. To see such a composed, brooding individual express such vocal emotion only served to enhance the feeling of trepidation that had settled like a lead weight in his stomach.

"How the mighty have fallen!" Sombra cackled, the hologram continuing to watch passively. "Once you ruled the globe, Celestia, and look at you know! I wonder how little of your true self remains, how much of the divine bitch in you bitterly clings on?"

Command not recognised.

Giving a final, mad roar of laughter, Sombra finally composed himself, letting his laughter die to a rumbling chuckle before fading away completely, though his grin remained as always. He'd had his fun, and though the delicious rush of victory still flowed through him, he knew there was still work to be done. Equestria was burning yet. His features returning to their usual, fearsome expression of authority and inner discipline, the dark alicorn lowered Starlight Wrath before clearing his throat. "Initiate Harmony Protocol, user access code: S-A-M-A-C."

The hologram flickered momentarily, behind it the Eternity Matrix flaring slightly brighter for a split second, as decrepit conduits cycled up and information pathways that had been engaged for millennia began to fire up.

Access code accepted. User now has five hundred seconds of unrestricted access.

Sombra grinned; he was in. "Prepare to deactivate Abstraction Generation Engines."

Acknowledged, deactivation of Abstraction Generation Engines, ready.

"Prepare Tectological Realignment Protocol, execution pattern: Prime-Unity."

Acknowledged, execution of Tectological Realignment Protocol, execution pattern: Prime-Unity, ready. Warning, execution may not be performed without official sanction. Required access key: Harmony Core.

Reaching down against his barrel, Sombra brushed a hoof across a chest plate of his armour, the metal plate depressing into the armours surface and splitting in two to reveal a hidden compartment, a small heart of scarlet hued faceted crystal lying within. Gripping the crystal in his hoof, Sombra contemplated the item for a more before it was encased within the black-violet aura of his telekinetic grip and proffered to the hologram before him. The machine remained as expressionless as ever, before a small, dexterous pincer of the same black metal as the rest of the construct, emerged from beneath its holographic coat and plucked what Tiberius assumed to be the Harmony Core from the air, the articulate limb refolding itself back into place beneath its outer layer, taking the crystal with it. Again there was a momentary flicker, before the machine spoke again.

Access key: Harmony Core, accepted. Now proceeding with Execution of user commands. Estimated time until execution is complete: two minutes.

Instantly the pulsing of the Eternity Matrix began to increase, rapidly firing up from its previous, dull heartbeat until it was flashing like some epically scaled strobe effect. The machine didn't retreat back into the Eternity Matrix, instead remaining fixed in place as it began a countdown, the numbers echoing through Tiberius' head.

One-hundred and twenty seconds. One-hundred and nineteen seconds. One-hundred and eighteen seconds.

It didn't require any explanation that once zero was reached, something very, very bad was going to happen.

"It is done!" Sombra screamed in victory, the dark alicorn rearing on his hind-legs as a savage roar tore from his throat. "I am victorious! I have defied the Goddess herself! This world shall be mine to rule!" Against the flashing strobe background of the Eternity Matrix, Sombra's silhouette was that of a Daemon, his fangs glinting in the blinding light whilst his luxurious cape was thrown out behind him, his bat-like wings spread wide, the light of the cogitator shining through their thin membranes to reveal a canvas of veins and arteries. "You have failed, Celestia, Luna, failed to stop the inevitable! Your world shall burn, and from the ashes shall arise the new order, my new order!"

Eighty seconds, seventy-nine seconds, seventy-eight seconds.

"No!"

Cadence's voice rang out above screaming crescendo of Sombra's victory cry, her voice fine and melodic compared to that of the dark alicorn, even when it was raised in anger. Too awes-struck by what they were witnessing, Sombra's bodyguard failed to notice the mare's insurrection until it was too late, Cadence charging her horn before releasing the pent up energy in a burst of aethereal force that scattered the alicorns around them, rendering all unconscious and propelling several over the edge of the gantry, their bodies falling limply into the lightless depths below. Panting with exhaustion, unused to utilising her abilities in such a violent and forceful manner, Cadence raised her head towards the holographic display of Celestia, her voice a cry of desperation. "Initiate hyper-bridge teleport sequence, number of travellers, one!"

As if it could sense the mare's gaze upon it, the machine turned its head, its vibrant eyes glowing as it settled upon Cadence. With a flicker the machine processed the command and acknowledged it, a harsh whine filling the air as hidden machinery that had lain dormant for eons began to fire up once more, energy pouring into its conduits.

Acknowledged, please designate traveller and specify destination.

"Destination; the Crystal Empire. Traveller; Tiberius!"

Tiberius watched the surreal scene before him without conscious thought, the events unfolding about him to strange, so... odd, that he didn't even know where to begin in his comprehension. Here he was, at the heart of Canterlot, stood before the Eternity Matrix, watching as Sombra destroyed the world he knew with but a single command, given to the holographic manifestation of a demigod that had been dead for seven thousand years, and now being saved by his princess, who was sending him to a place he'd only ever read of in the most esoteric tomes of lore. For his whole existence, life had been defined by a strict regime of protocol, training, patrols, and exercises of both body and mind. For fifteen thousand years nearly each day had been a mirror image of the one before. And now, in the space of little more than forty-eight hours, his mentor had committed suicide, he'd been defeated in battle, enslaved to the sadistic whims of a nymphomaniacal mare, and was about to be flung from the Celestial Levels, a place he had never left in his whole life, out into the great unknown of Equestria.

The sheer drama of it all simply boggled his mind.  

The portal from which the machine had emerged began to glow, not the harsh pink light of the Eternity Matrix, but that of a much darker hue, a strange membrane of energy spreading from the circular rim to for a gateway to his destination. Time and space began to twist, the passage of seconds seeming to slow to an infinitesimal fraction of its regular speed, as if time had grounded down to a near halt. His vision began to tunnel, focussing purely on the teleportation gateway before him. A surreal sensation began to crawl across his flesh, burrowing beneath his coat and reaching into his soul. It was as if he were at once being pulled towards the portal and simultaneously pushed away, unable to resist as an invisible trendil of power scooped him up and began to drag him closer to the gateway.

Realising what was happening, Sombra turned from the machine to face Cadence, a fierce snarl rending his features as he opened his maw and roared at her. "No! I shall not be denied!" The dark alicorn prepared to pounce on the mare, his grip on Starlight Wrath tightening as he sought to lash out at the one who had been insolent enough to intervene in his final victory, the axe's twin head glittering with iridescent cyan energy and scintillating flickers of lightning began to crawl across its surface. Tiberius had begun to accelerate towards the portal at a much more rapid speed, his hooves fully lifting from the floor as he tumbled through the air, his limbs flailing wildly. As he passed Sombra he collided bodily into the dark alicorn at full force, his hoof gripping manically at anything he could get a hold of. He felt something hard and metallic brush against his hoof, the haft of Starlight Wrath, and he seized it within his grip. Yet the portal was not to be denied, and with a final shriek of power it sucked him in like a vacuum, pulling Tiberius into its raging depths, his grip on Starlight Wrath so great that the venerable weapon came loose from Sombra's grip and was drawn in with him.

For a few moments longer the world was a violent storm of warping energy, and then he blacked out.

≤ΘΘΘ≥

She remembered the pain of bringing him into the world. how he had torn her apart as he was freed from her womb and unleashed on existence; a young, wailing foal whose first instinct had been to cry for its mother.

She remembered the pain of having to watch him go, as the mid-wife had taken him into her hooves and left her and Shining Armour alone, giving them solace as she'd wept for the loss of her foal.

She remembered the pride in her heart when she'd seen him playing with the other younglings of the Levels, the first time in three decades she'd laid eyes on him. He was so like his father: his mane a long, thick mass of ultramarine blue, striped with his mothers gold, his eyes a light, cerulean blue, flecked with faint tints of violet. He'd looked so happy as he tumbled and rolled, laughing, and playing, and smiling. It had torn her apart that she hadn't been allowed to raise him, but she'd known her duties, and the strictures of tradition: a princesses duty was to her ponies, not her own desires.

She remembered when he'd been inducted into the Celestial Guard, one of the proudest moments of his father's life; when his son had bowed before the throne and sworn himself to the service of the crown. She'd never seen such love on Shining Armour's face as he'd present his son with his gauss-halberd, and he'd risen a member of the Guard. Shining had even shed a tear when they'd returned to the privacy of their chambers.

She remembered how scared and alone he'd been, when Shining Armour's body had been returned to the Levels; how unsure he was of himself, a young colt alone in the world with no one to guide him. It had been hard to repress her maternal instincts, and resist the urge to cradle him in her hooves and reassure her only son that everything would be alright.

She remembered how painful it was to watch him fall when he'd been defeated at the hooves of Sombra, how battered, bloody, and broken he was, even as he crawled for Starlight Wrath, his father's axe. He blamed himself, she knew, blamed himself for failing to protect his princess. But the truth was that she'd failed him.

She'd failed as a mother.

As she watched Tiberius hurtle towards the portal and safety, Cadence felt some of the guilt in her soul lift, easing the pain in her heart. She'd never been able to raise her son, to tell him just how special he was to her, or how much she loved him, or how proud she felt seeing him follow in the hoofsteps of his father. She'd wanted to tell him for so long how she felt, and now, as she watched him disappear into the storm of energy, Cadence felt overcome with the premonition she'd never be able to.

She'd failed as a mother.

But she'd succeeded in at least one aspect; he was safe now. As Sombra's hoof cracked across her muzzle, and she fell to ground, the dark alicorn reaching with his hooves to choke the life out of her, Cadence allowed herself that one thought to serve as he solace. Closing her eyes, Cadence held the image of that young foal laughing and playing in her mind, allowing a small smile to grace her features; Tiberius was safe now.

And that was all that mattered to her.