Four alicorns marched, in their midst the casket of Shining Armour.

Tiberius stood to the right of the casket, proceeding onwards in stoic silence, accepting the death of his patriarch with a grim heart and unspoken prayer. Above him, high in the stone-wrought vaulting of the roof, sunlight shone gloriously through panes of stained crystal, illuminating this part of their path with a soft, gentle glow. Starlight Wrath, the hereditary weapon of office for the patriarch of the Celestial Guard, weighed heavily against his flank, its bulk unfamiliar and alien to Tiberius, who had grown accustomed to the top-heavy mass of his gauss-halberd. They were marching, lockstep, down the long, twisting gallery that led to the throne room, the sound of armoured hooves on lustrous marble all that accompanied them. Lining the walls on either side were the armoured forms of the Celestial Guard, heads bowed in deference to the casket.

Above the soldiers, stretched from pillar to pillar, hung the banners of the Celestial Guard, golden relics from times long past. As the casket passed, the armoured alicorns fell in behind, a double file forming behind the patriarch. It heartened Tiberius to see his brothers in arms, the sight of such military might stirring the martial pride that had been fired in his heart since his birth.

Ahead of them, and approaching with every step he took, loomed the entrance to the throne room. It was an enormous thing, an arch of marble standing twenty meters tall. At the summit, carved as if it was bursting fully formed from the wall itself, was a carved a fully sized likeness of a female alicorn, her wings spread and head lifted in a fittingly regal pose, form-fitting golden plate metal, mimicking that worn by the Celestial Guard below, covering the mares sensuous, elegant figure. Marble eyes stared blindly towards the vaulted roof, lips carved lush and full from cold stone whilst her mane was brought to life by the combined glow of a dozen stained panes above, the converging beams striking in such a way as to animate it, as if the marble strands were flowing in some aethereal breeze. The expression on the statues face was one that Tiberius had long sort to decipher; the slight parting of the mares lips and the vacant expression of her sightless eyes evoking the images of both numbing ecstasy and soul-consuming dread.  

Beneath the statue, dominating the archway itself, were two heavy blocks of stone which formed the bulwark between the gallery and the throne room. Each was six meters wide and three feet thick, hewn not from pure marble or precious crystal as was so much of the Celestial Levels, but from milky granite, shot through with black spots of feldspar. Both were chiselled with finely detailed carvings of the legendary royal sisters Celestia and Luna, the first rulers of Canterlot who were said to rule in a time before the zones. The images mirrored each other with incredible accuracy, testament to the artisans who forged the Celestial Levels. Each granite block showed a full body profile, Celestia on the left and Luna on the right, their horns meeting at the centre of the two blocks where a fierce emerald, split down the centre, had been set into the raw stone. The column of guards came to a halt as one, the final, sharp sound of hoofsteps echoing into silence.

Tiberius brought to mind the correct magical sequence required to open the door, tapping into the  repository of arcane energy in his soul. It was a widely held belief amongst the citizens of Canterlot that no Pre-equine was capable of matching the potency of an alicorn when it came to the manipulation of magic and in a way, Tiberius reflected as he began to channel the magical energy into his horn, they were right. It wasn't so much that alicorns were more powerful, more rather their cybernetically enhanced minds were capable of perceiving a larger fraction of the magical spectrum, thus allowing a greater degree of control. It was possible for a Pre-equine to reach the same level of magical control as an alicorn, but more often than not, this was due to natural aptitude rather than training or practice.

With little effort, an ectoplasmic trendil of aethereal matter reached out from the tip of the patriarchs horn towards the gem at the centre of the gate, its surface undulating in a hypnotic pattern reminiscent of viscous fluid being poured. Making contact with the emerald, it took Tiberius mere moments to synchronise the bound energy within with that of his soul. A high-pitched ringing began to emanate from the emerald, resonating with the eerie moan that only magic could produce; a low, mournful sound that seemed to tug on the soul with great weight.

Disengaging the spell, Tiberius watched as the emerald began to glow, the neon green light slowly beginning to pulse like a heartbeat. The seconds passed by, the column of guards standing in complete silence, until the quiet, near-imperceptible grinding of stone on stone signalled that the patriarchs spell had succeeded in unlocking the throne room. With a muffled, sweeping whoosh, the two granite blocks began to slide inward, opening the portal for passage. As they came to a halt, Tiberius started forward, nodding, and from behind him came the always reassuring sound of four hundred hooves as the Celestial Guard fell in.

As he passed through the enormous archway into the throne room, the monolithic scale of the Celestial Levels once again impressed itself upon Tiberius. The throne room was an enormous octagonal pantheon, more than two hundred meters across. As with the gallery behind them, the vaulted dome of the roof soared high above them, lost amidst the blinding brilliance of the crystal panes so far above. Banners depicting the long and illustrious history of the Celestial Levels were draped from the supporting buttresses, each richly embroidered and woven with artisan skill. Like most treasures of the Levels they were ancient beyond reckoning, a link that connected the alicorns with a history that had long since been forgotten, save for by the princess herself.

Beneath the hooves of the Celestial Guard, the floor was paved with white marble, veined through with pink and gold minerals. Cutting through the stark white were lines of jet black Megastructure, the black glass-like material outlining an enormous geometric rune that formed the silhouette of a radial sun. Ancient lore insisted that the pattern was the image of Celestia's cutie mark, a holy symbol of Faustianism and one of great repute amongst the denizens of the Celestial Levels. The air was thick with the heady scents of incense, trails of white smoke rising from braziers that were set into the wall. Tiberius breathed deeply, taking in the rich, cloying fumes, and sighed. Shining Armour had always enjoyed the scent of the braziers, reminiscing with Tiberius many a time on stories from his foalhood that the incense brought to mind.

Shaking his head, Tiberius chastised himself. It was unlike him to be so melancholy, quite unlike him indeed. Sweet Celestia, he was an alicorn! Patriarch of the Celestial Guard and warden of the Levels, he had greater and more pressing issues to concern himself with then memories of the past. As heavily as the loss of Shining Armour weighed on his soul, Tiberius knew he couldn't afford the dalliance of idle reminiscence; with the patriarch gone it now fell to him to protect the princess and keep her safe, and a soldier who was too caught up in his own woes to perform such a duty was no fitting guardian for the last princess of Canterlot.

Behind him, at the back of the column, the last of the Celestial Guard filed into the throne room, the great granite doors swinging shut and sealing themselves silently. With the doors barred, Tiberius knew, the ancient wards inscribed into the very walls of the throne room were once again complete, allowing for the projection of an immense - if invisible - protective barrier that was proof against all but the most dedicated and concerted assaults. The patriarch briefly sent out a pulse of magical energy to test the validity of the barrier, smiling to himself when the wave of power was instantly reflected back towards him.

Though there had never been an attempt in the history of Canterlot to assassinate any descendent of the royal lineage it had always been the duty of each patriarch to maintain the barrier that encased the throne room, empowering the intricate enchantment with energy extracted from their very souls. Shining Armour, ever zealous in his duties, had spent an hour each night charging the shield, filling the binding runes with as much magical aether as they could contain, emerging ashen faced and exhausted every time. Tiberius knew that the duty would fall to him now, and that now more than ever the barrier would need to be maintained like never before. With the threat of the usurper becoming more real by the day, the necessity to ensure the continuation of the princesses most powerful form of defence – barring, of course, the Celestial Guard – was of top priority.          

Tiberius felt something in his heart tense at the thought of the usurper, gritting his teeth in anger. Lord Sombra had ever been an opponent of the princess, and for Tiberius a foe of the worst kind: one that couldn't be fought in combat, but had to be engaged at the debating table. Sombra had been the enemy of the royalty of Canterlot since before Tiberius's birth, and many of his acolytes – the word 'follower' implied too much free will – claimed that the dark alicorn had been born in a time before the Eye of Faust had burnt through the world, and the zones had ripped Equestria apart.

Regardless, Lord Sombra was a powerful adversary, and one that was not to be dealt with lightly. Although he had yet too openly challenge the princess for rule of Canterlot, Sombra had built a formidable following amongst the dejected and bitter weaklings that clung to life at the bottom rungs of the Celestial Levels, alicorns who had long since fallen from grace and been forced to eke out a miserable existence perilously close to boundary. For those fallen, Lord Sombra was a messianic figure, one who promised the restoration of their past glories and their reinstatement into the court of the Celestial Levels, something that they had been denied for generations. This army of devoted sycophants, though nowhere near as competent and capable as the Celestial Guard, was a force to be reckoned with, a blighted host of damned and misbegotten souls.

Yet Sombra's powers weren't limited to a simple army of followers. Rumours circulated amongst the courtiers that the alicorn was alleged to practice necromancy, an art that had been declared anathema to existence by Celestia herself. His residences, a cluster of ruined towers that rose from the lowest eastern ledge, were haunted, silent abodes, where the wind that swept in from the Outzone screamed and moaned like the gates of Tartarus. Phantoms were said to stalk the black corridors within, the spirits of Sombra's victims bound by infernal enchantments to hunger for the warmth and flesh of the living. The servants avoided the place at all costs, leading to no shortage of apocryphal tales of what was said to be the fate of any who dared penetrate the outer wards of the ruins. Tiberius grimaced at the thought of such a place; it was his duty to protect the princess, but Sombra was an opponent who promised to be unlike any he had ever faced, and Tiberius could sense that the impending conflict between himself and the necromancer was fast approaching.

Ahead of him, rising on three shallow tiers of stone, lay the dais, a fat crescent that followed the curvature of the wall it was set against, and atop it, forged from a single block of impervious Megastructure, sat the throne of Canterlot itself. The great chair rose upon a dais of its own, five steps of Megastructure leading up to the elegant, if imposing throne. Chiselled into its surface in minute detail, swirling lines and sinuous spirals caught the dazzling light above, the Megastructure catching and refracting before expelling vibrant shafts of exotic colour, which, in conjunction with the scented smoke of the braziers, caused a wreathed rainbow aura to enshroud the throne. The high back rose a full ten meters, yet more chiselled ornamentation forming the silhouette of an alicorn, wings spread and horn raised, the surrounding aura hinting at both a male and female form. Behind stood an enormous archway that opened up into the vast, empty void of the open sky, the light that streamed through silhouetting the throne. The whole construct was priceless, the result of generations of painstaking commitment and dedication, designed to instil both awe and fear in any who looked up it.

Yet regardless of how magnificent or imposing the throne could ever be, it was nothing compared to the creature which sat upon it: Mi Amore Cadenza, the last princess of Canterlot.

"Patriarch Tiberius." The princess inclined her head by way of greeting as the column of guards came to a halt before her, the double file switching to a square phalanx with Post-equine precision. Her crown, a simple circlet of gold that rose at the front to include a purple gem that was said to have been worn by Celestia, glinted in the light. Her mane, comprised of glorious locks of purple, pink, and gold, danced like liquid, trailing out to her right in a non-existent breeze, whilst framing the perfectly symmetrical features of her face, where a pair of intense pink eyes shone with kindness and compassion. The very air around her resonated with dignity and authority, instilling both respect and admiration in all who gazed upon her. She was, in every sense of the word, pure blooded royalty.

Surrounding the throne were the courtiers of the Levels, functionaries and adepts who served as advisors to the princess. To the right of the throne stood Hyperion, master of augments and the greatest Technomancer in Canterlot, his body more machine than equine. All four of his hooves and a great deal of his organic flesh replaced with mechanical prosthetics of his own design and manufacture, the gray-black metal gleaming like oil. With him stood Urial, the courts Aethermancer, robed in the olive green vestments of a tectologists; one of the rare individuals allowed access to the Eternity Matrix, the massive and ancient cogitator engine that resided deep within the Megastructure of Canterlot. Whilst Hyperion stood tall and proud in his synthetic flesh, Urial's thin frame twitched with a constant shiver, the result of such intense exposure to the exotic matter and harsh radiation given off by the Eternity Matrix's supportive data banks. Both were accompanied by attendants of their own, Hyperion with his vat-grown servitors and Urial flanked by two rake-thin junior adepts, both quivering on their hooves.

To the left of the throne stood only one party; that of Emmanuelle, the high priestess of Faust. The mare was swathed horn to hoof in snow-white cloth, layers of gossamer thin fabric shifting and stirring in the same aethereal breeze that flowed through Cadence's mane. Tiberius, and for that matter no Pre- or Post-equine in Canterlot, had never seen even an inch of the high-priestesses coat; each priestesses was said to be a creature of divine beauty, yet dedicated to their Goddess in body and soul, and as such they hid their bodies away beneath their veils, to ward against the temptation of those who would defile them. Although as princesses Cadence served as a primary object of veneration for practitioners of Faustianism, believed by millions to be Faust divinely appointed ruler, it was Emmanuelle who was the true leader of the faith. Behind her stood four hand-maidens, they too hidden away beneath white veils. Each carried a tool of faith; one with a brazier mounted on her back which swung back and forth as the mare gently rocked, another; a lectern upon which an enormous edition of the Testament lay open. The final two each bore chalices filled to the brim with holy water, the surface of the liquid within still and serene.              

The patriarch bowed low, his armour humming as the synthetic ligaments with the ceramite relaxed and contracted to accommodate the movement, until his muzzle was mere inches from the floor. "Princess Mi Amore Cadenza," came his reply, voice respectfully quiet. The seated alicorn smiled, her luscious lips curving at the edges. Though Tiberius had served in the princesses bodyguard since the Vermillion War, formalities could never be violated in as public a place as the throne room. Perhaps in a private audience Tiberius could address the princess by her personal moniker of Cadence, but for now tradition dictated respect, something he had no qualms adhering to.

Rising, the patriarch watched as the princesses eyes slid past him to rest upon the anti-gravitic casket behind, a flash of sorrow crossing the two orbs before disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared and her gaze returned to his. As all knew, emotion was something an alicorn kept reserved at all times, any public display of affection would have been taboo.

"My husband has returned." Cadence's voice was flat and cold, devoid of the heartache one would expect if ever faced with such a situation. Though she kept an immaculate posture, back straight and head raised, Tiberius could see the hints that were too subtle for any others to pick up; the near-imperceptible twitch in the corner of her eye, and the slight flicker of movement in her tail. He had to nearly force himself to hold her gaze, such was the guilt inside him.

None, and certainly not Tiberius, would have ever suspected that Shining Armour would depart in such a way. The patriarch had been a paragon, something to aspire to. His virtue as an alicorn and dedication as a soldier had long been marked as superior to all around him. Indeed, Shining Armour had lived in strict, unwavering compliance to the codes of chivalry and conduct expected of a Celestial Guard. For him to die in such a way, for suicide to be his choice, was something that shocked Tiberius to his very core.

He just... he just never thought the patriarch would die.

The full weight and consequence of Shining Armours death struck him more intensely than ever before. True; he had known of the patriarchs death mere hours after his disappearance from the Celestial Levels, and true; the implications it entailed had been revolving in his mind ever since, turning over and over as he attempted to find some logical way to come to terms with the event. But standing there, beneath the gaze of his monarch and charge, seemed to exacerbate the importance of the position he was stepping into. The seed of self-doubt flourished inside of him, working its way through his mind and undermining the confidence that centuries of training and duty had instilled within him.

He couldn't do this, there was no way he could do this. Shining Armour had been his idol, his role model, what he had aspired to be since his very induction into the Celestial Guard all those years ago. How could he ever possibly be expected to command the same level of respect and dignity that Shining Armour had exuded from every pore? He was far from the same young, naive stripling of three centuries that had been ushered into the barracks all those years ago, as was testified by the list of honours that were etched into the very ceramite of his armour. But neither was he the same millennia old, battle hardened, and unsurpassable warrior as his predecessor had been. Though he forced himself to maintain the quiet, dignified air that was expected of him, Tiberius felt the uncertainty within himself pulse throughout his body, his right hind-leg twitching ever so slightly, as he was want to do when troubled. He schooled his features into an unreadable mask, but the subtle shift in Cadence's posture told him that his princess sensed his doubt.

"Patriarch, walk with me," Cadence said, once more tilting her head back a few millimetres. Unfolding from her seated position with unhurried, elegant grace, Cadence rose from the throne and descended the stairs of her throne. The courtiers and the Celestial Guard bowed as her fore-leg touched the stone floor of the dais, all save for high priestess Emmanuelle and her hand-maidens, who were beholden to none save Faust, and Tiberius himself. Turning, Cadence beckoned with a flick of her tail for the patriarch to follow, her long, willowy legs crossing the marble floor in complete silence as she stepped past the throne. Conversely, Tiberius's own gait sounded awkwardly loud as he moved to stand by the princesses side, the synthetic ligaments within his armour whirring with movement to the deep backdrop growl of the nova reactor within.

The princess led him towards the archway that lay behind the throne, the scent of incense slowly weakening as it gave way to cool, crisp air of extreme altitude. The archway opened up onto a large, sweeping balcony that swept across the curvature of the throne room, Tiberius inhaling the fresh clean air deeply as he passed through the portal and out onto the open expanse, his wings unfurling slightly as the pegausi instinct in him felt the urge to take to the sky. Cadence, however, kept her faculties in check and proceeded forward to the ornamental railing that followed the edge of the balcony, a line of miniature alicorn statues where each individual supported the weight of the stone banister on their wings. Tiberius joined her in short order, leaning his head out to look below.

In the radiance of Celestia's holy sun, the Celestial Levels shone.

The throne room was situated in an enormous, fat tower that rose tall and proud into the cold of the Thermosphere, soaring above the rest of Canterlot like a raptor hunting for prey. Beneath them, the Celestial Levels glowed in the pure and unpolluted air, crystal-wrought structures of blinding white blazing like flares. All around them, alicorns capered and danced with arrogant ease; swooping, gliding, and diving on the thermals that rose from the zones below, flitting to and fro like a living snow-storm. Beneath, just about visible from his current vantage point, Tiberius could make out the higher echelons of the Cyber Polities, swarming with anti-gravitic vehicles that were so minute he could have reached out and crushed them with a hoof.

As for the rest of Canterlot; Circuit City, Neon Heights, Geartown, and Ponyville, there was no sign, not even any inclination that they actually existed. Instead, it appeared as if the Cyber Polities simply gave way to the epic vastness of the Outzone, of the rest of Equestria. The base of the city was surrounded by a ring of vibrant green, criss-crossed and divided by multiple patchworks of fields, orchards, vineyards, ranches, and farms; all working day and night to feed the ravenous hunger of the last city of Equine-kind. Surrounding the verdant ring of agriculture was the Everfree Forest, a full league of wild and untamed woodland, infested with unnatural creatures spawned by the arcane energies that saturated the place. Rising from the verdant canopy were the stumps of ancient stone fortifications, so old that even the princess herself couldn't say with any certainty who had ordered their construction, or for what purpose.

Beyond there was nothing, only empty wastes of lifeless, rust-red dirt that reached to the horizon in every direction.        

They were fifty leagues above the ground, an incredible altitude in itself, but nothing compared to the enormity of Canterlot in its entirety. Whilst the throne room was the penultimate sign of habitation to mark the Megastructure, the vast bulk of the Godscraper itself rose higher still, a thin needle no more than a third of a league across that pierced the Exosphere itself, reaching into the great void above. The view afforded by the lofty perch was breath-taking, but for Tiberius it had long since lost its all-consuming sense of majesty, not a single day went by when he did not soar through such skies. Turning his attention from the panoramic landscape below, Tiberius turned to face his monarch.

Cadence stood statue still, as ever the very picture of royalty. Her beautiful eyes gazing out below onto Canterlot; her city. Behind her eyes, Tiberius could see the riot of emotion that she struggled to suppress; the confusion, anger, sorrow, and loneliness. If the death of Shining Armour had been difficult for Tiberius, a simple solider, to come to terms with, he could only imagine the depths of grief that threatened to consume the soul of the princess. Alicorns were an immortal species, capable of watching the rise and fall of empires and nations in the blink of an eye in circumstance demanded. Yet whilst many a Pre-equine would consider such eternal youth as the greatest boon that could ever be bestowed, all alicorns knew that immortality carried its own horrendous curse.

Eternity, meant eternity.

A Pre-equine wouldn't have even been able to begin to comprehend the vast scope of immortality, constrained as they were by notions of time and its passage. For a being that lived forever, there was no difference between a day or a year, a second or a century. What use was there in measuring a factor that literally had no relativistic influence in their existence? Living for such an extended period would drive any creature insane, regardless of lifespan, watching their loved ones grow from foalhood, to adolescence, to old age, to death. In order to prevent such a fate themselves, alicorns bonded for eternity, taking a monogamous mate with which to share the endless plethora of experiences. Cadence and Shining Armour had been bonded for over seven thousand years, as the patriarch had once told Tiberius, forming their unity in a time before the Eye of Faust had burnt through the world.

"Princess Mi Amore Cadenza..." Tiberius began, but stopped when he realised he had nothing to say; what words could possibly console a loss so great? His princess turned to him, and Tiberius felt his stomach flip when he saw a single tear of crystal clear liquid roll down her cheek from the inner corner of her right eye, winking like a diamond. His heart seized in his chest at the sight of such a beautiful, compassionate alicorn in such misery. For Cadence to actually be crying, for the princess herself; who bore the weight of millennia of tradition and responsibility, to actually be expressing such outward emotion. It simply... it simply killed him.

"My husband is dead, Tiberius, this I know. I knew as soon as he..." Cadence told him, her voice hushed with suppressed sorrow and edged with the threat of more tears. "When he fell from the Levels I... I felt him die, Tiberius. I felt the shard of my soul I had given to him gutter and die, just as the shard he had given me crumbled into nothingness." Cadence closed her eyes, turning her head away from Tiberius to take a deep, calming breath.

Tiberius felt his heart ache; he wanted to console her, wanted to reach out and comfort her. To take her in his hooves and protect her from any who would ever wish to harm her. He felt anger flare in his chest, rising as a wave of adrenaline through his body. That was the duty he was now charged with, to keep her safe, and if it was demanded of him he would fight to the death to ensure she stayed out of harms way. Cadence raised a hoof to wipe away the tear, and when she turned her head back, Tiberius could see a fire like his own burning in her eyes. Like him, she knew now was no time for sorrow, now was a time of action.

Mourning would have to wait.  

"Where do we stand?" Cadence asked, her voice firm with the characteristic, reassuring determination she had always shown. Tiberius felt his confidence rising, hearing the steel in her tone. His princess wasn't down and out, not yet.

"Princess; with the patriarch dead, I suspect that Lord Sombra will be making his move in short order, perhaps even within the year," Tiberius stated, a scowl flashing across his face. "With such limited time, I am afraid that we may not have the resources available necessary to meet him in combat, let alone wage a war. My Celestial Guard will fight to the death, but they are few, and our enemy legion."

"No pony is talking of war yet, Tiberius. True, Lord Sombra has long been an opponent of my rule, but there have been many instances far more dire than this in the past when he could have attempted his coup. I do not doubt that he will make an attempt, Shining Armours death presents an opportunity too ripe for the taking. But it is not Lord Sombra that truly unsettles me, Tiberius, it is the matter of the coming storm." The princesses eyes glimmered with both fear and compassion, and in his soul, Tiberius felt something reach back to her with empathy. "The realignment, will we... the alicorns... survive?"

For several long seconds Tiberius was silent, his mind reviewing every eventuality, before, in a tone of both fear and uncertainty, he gave the most honest answer he could muster.

"I do not know, Princess. Before his death, the patriarch had been making all efforts to ensure that there were sufficient contingencies for us to fall back on in the event of a major shift. But I'm afraid that his departure was too sudden for me to ascertain to what extent his emergency protocols had reached completion. Statistical analysis of the barracks inventory suggests he has stockpiled sufficient supplies of antizonal medication and consumables to last for no more than two decades in the event of total collapse of celestial society. Aside from this and some small caches of weaponry and food that have been secured across the Levels, I have limited available information to offer you. In keeping with the need for discretion, the patriarch ensured that all such preparation operations were of the utmost secrecy, and as a result much of the knowledge he had was lost with his death."    

Cadence nodded with grim acceptance. "Two decades... for a Pre-equine, I imagine such time would be an incredible boon..." her voice trailed off, the unspoken words still to come hanging heavy in the air. It didn't need to be said that for a Post Equine, two decades was nearly nothing. Tiberius himself had been alive for nearly fifteen hundred years, and was still considered youthful by the standards of alicorn society.

"It is not much by any means, princess. But I am afraid it is all we have."

"Unless we were to take the route proposed by Lord Sombra," Cadence said bitterly, as if even saying the name of such a creature left a foul taste in her mouth. The alicorn in question had never made any attempt to hide his obvious distain for the mortals below, stating in court on many occasions that it was the manifest destiny of the alicorns to hold dominion of Canterlot, and by extension the whole of Equestria. Though many in the Levels sneered at the impossibility of such ideas, Sombra's cries for a war of conquest were eagerly answered by the fallen alicorns who swarmed to his banner, drawn by promises of the restoration of their former glories and their instalment as rulers of the vassal realms Sombra would carve out with his war. Of course, regardless of how much rhetoric the dark alicorn employed and how much support he garnered, there lay in his path one obstacle that nothing could clear.

The zones.

The metaphysical divisions, neither aethereal nor material in nature, had long been the force that had locked the alicorns within the Celestial Levels. Post-equine life, for all the raw magical power and longevity it offered, could only exist under very specific conditions; conditions that existed nowhere in Equestria, save for the peak of the Godscraper. It was these limitations that blunted Sombra's ambitions of conquest, and kept the Pre-equines of Canterlot safe from his predations.

Of course, efforts had been made on the part of both Sombra and the princess to attempt to find ways in which the alicorns could exist beyond the confines of their lofty cage, but for the most part such exodus's had met with failure. Despite decades, centuries even, of research, digging deep into the very threads of life itself, the Biomancers of the Levels had failed to craft a form in which a Post-equine could survive beyond even the Cyber Polities.

There had only ever been one successful attempt, nine years ago, when Twilight Sparkle, the greatest Biomancer in the history of the Celestial Levels, and three others had been adapted and inserted deep into Canterlot, to the harsh, electrical world of Neon Heights. It had been for Twilight Sparkle that Shining Armour had sacrificed himself, throwing himself from the Celestial Levels for a mare who was by all accounts dead, and simply placing his faith in a handful of patchy reports gleaned from prescient visions inspired by the Eternity Matrix. But perhaps that should have been expected.

After all, she was his sister.        

Tiberius shook his head. "If we were to follow Sombra's path of conquest, our own survival would be at the price of the pain and suffering of the Equines you were sworn to protect. You are their princess, Mi Amore Cadenza, from the lowliest farmers of Ponyville to even the proudest of us alicorns, whether they are aware of the fact or not. To subjugate your own ponies would be no better than abdicating and letting Sombra take the throne." He knelt, his head bowed low enough to see himself in the eyes of his own reflection trapped in the marble floor. "You are my princess and I will serve you with every fibre of my being. If Sombra wishes to bring you harm, I will see to it that he will burn in the fires of Tartarus before he even sets hoof in this throne room. What course of action we pursue is your choice to make, princess, but no matter which path we tread, know that I will serve you. Always."

"Rise, Tiberius," Cadence commanded, her tone soft and gentle. Obeying, Tiberius rose to find himself gazing into the eyes of his princess. Cadence smiled gently, raising a hoof to slowly stroke his cheek. "You're a fine soldier, Tiberius. Your honesty and Loyalty is all I shall ever ask of you." Cadence's smile seem to flicker, another tear building up in the corner of her eye before slowly rolling down her muzzle. "Shining Armour chose you to be his successor because he saw those qualities in you, and I know he did well in his choice. You'll make a fine patriarch."

Tiberius had no idea what to say, a faint flush staining the white coat of his cheeks a pale rose-pink. He tried to open his mouth, but no words came out, only a strangled gasp. How could he articulate the sense of pervasive doubt that ran through him, how could he explain to the princess that even if he had a thousand more years to prepare he would still feel unworthy of such a position? He turned his head away, looking to the clear skies above them. Oddly, it seemed the swooping alicorns had disappeared. "Princess... I..."

Something pulsed.

Tiberius snapped his head, pulling away from Cadences hoof; eyes open, senses alert. The pulse came again, like a rush of blood through his ears, throbbing painfully before disappearing. For several long seconds, Tiberius couldn't identify exactly what it was that he had felt, the sensation was one that he had never encountered before. A quick scan of his nanotrite conduits revealed that whatever he was experiencing wasn't physical in origin. The pulses, whatever they were, were coming from an external source. It came again, this time sending a sharp lance of pain through the back of his head and causing a high-pitched ringing to echo through his mind. It was only then that Tiberius achieved a modicum of familiarity with the sensation. The pulse, it was the same he felt training with aethereal kinetic shields.

He felt his heart seize.

"Tiberius?" Cadence tapped the alicorn on the shoulder, alarmed by his reaction. "Patriarch, are you alright." Tiberius didn't respond; instead his horn became suffused with a golden aura of magic, his eyes glazing over slightly as he accessed his witch-sight, allowing his to perceive the currents of magic flowing about them.

This time, his heart stopped entirely.

With his augmented senses, and the now instinctive bond he shared with the barrier as its maintainer, Tiberius was able to perceive the incredible magical shadow cast by the protective field that encased the throne room, the immense arcane construct generating a nearly overwhelming aura with the amount of magic it displaced. But what concerned him was not the size of the shadow, but its condition. The surface of the barrier was scored with fissures, spreading out across the gleaming shield like cracks in a mirror. Even as he watched, another pulse resonated off the barrier, several small shards of the arcane construct splintering free to dissolve into a fine mist of swirling energy before disappearing entirely. It took the patriarch a few moments to rationalise what his senses were telling, such was the impossibility of what he was witnessing.

The barrier was beginning to decay.

"Patriarch Tibe-" Cadence began, her voice filled with much more concern, before Tiberius interrupted her with a single, blunt word.

"Move."

"Pardo-"

"Move!"

Cadence didn't react, staring at him with dumbfounded shock. However, her expression quickly changed when Tiberius grabbed her hoof and began pulling her back towards the throne room. "Patriarch, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded as they passed through the archway once more, entering the cavernous space beyond. Tiberius didn't reply, already barking orders with practised ease.

"Celestial Guard! Form up! Phalanx formation epsilon-thirteen, gauss-halberds to the front! Protect the princess!" Instantly, the soldiers below the dais, still standing patiently in their square formation, moved to react. The air began to fill with the rasping of metal on metal as blades were pulled from their scabbards, and the dull, moaning whine of gauss weaponry as plasma conductors charged and ionisation pathways began to warm up. Running underneath were the confused whispers and shouted questions of the courtiers, eyes wide with confusion and panic as the situation went from normality to what seemed like a combat drill.

"Tiberius!" Cadence cried, pulling her hoof away. "What is the meaning of this? You are acting hysterical and sowing fear amongst my court, I demand you tell me what is going on immediately!" Tiberius spun round, his face grim and his eyes pained.

"Princess, something is att-" The pulse came again, so intense that his caused the alicorn to cringe, raising a hoof to his head, hissing like a wounded animal. "Something is attacking the barrier!" The patriarch spun, pointing to two of the Celestial Guard as they fell into position. "Titus, Dominus, take the princess to safety. We shall hold the line whilst you retreat."

"Yes, Patriarch!"

Cadence turned to Tiberius as the two soldier approached, the confusion and fear plain to see on her face. Tiberius didn't fault her for such an open display of emotion, the intensity of the situation in such a short time had also thrown him as well. He was not prepared, there had been no time to survey the location, or to draw up a strategy. All he could do was trust in his training and pray to Faust that it would be enough. "Patriarch, I will not leave my court at a time like this." Cadence gestured to the courtiers on the dais, bunched together like sheep in pen of gleaming armour and sharp blades.

Hyperion and his attendants looked ready for a fight, the barrels of the mindless servitors opening like blossoming flowers of vat-grown flesh to expose a multitude of powerful weapons, the skin around their hooves bulging as bone-grafted weapons were activated, pushing their way through the skin. In stark contrast, Urial and his two striplings stood huddled together behind the imposing bulk of the Technomancer, shivering and shaking like always as they looked about them with wide eyes. Only Emmanuelle and her priestesses seemed to be aloof from the surrounding tumult of activity, passive and serene as always.

Tiberius ground his teeth together. "Princess, that was not a suggestion; that was an order." He made to turn away, more orders already flying from his mouth. "Set gauss-halberds to level three intensity. Aethermancers, I want telekinetic shields in ten seconds." He turned back, Cadence still standing and staring at him. "Princess, I ordered you to le-"

Cadence slapped him.    

The words died on his lips, his mouth agape. It was now his turn to stare. Cadence glowered at him with a look of indignant anger burning in her eyes, the aura of authority she radiated suddenly incredibly palpable. "Patriarch." Her voice was quiet and controlled, reminiscent of the calm before a storm. "This is my court, my inheritance, my home. I understand that as patriarch of the Celestial Guard it is your duty to defend me, and I admire the swiftness of your response." The glint in Cadence's eyes became colder, more fierce. "But I will not give, whoever my assailant may be, them the satisfaction of seeing me flee my own abode. I will not retreat, regardless of what you order." She turned away, pushing past Titus and Dominus, to ascend the stairs of her throne and seat herself upon it. The two guards turned back to their patriarch, eyes wide with disbelief and a hint of fear.

"Orders, patriarch?"

Tiberius could only gaze blankly at the space where Cadence had been standing, before another aching pulse ran through his mind, causing him to hiss again. The pain was a hundred-fold that which he had first experienced, and on some instinctive level, he knew that the barrier was coming close to collapse. Even know, the idea of such a thing seem ludicrous in its impossibility. The shield had stood for centuries and had never been breached. Even during the Vermillion war, when the Cyber Polities had seized control of the lower ledges of the Celestial Levels and bombarded the barrier with macro-cannons for five continuous days, the defensive bubbled had not faltered, shirking each blow like a pebble against a mountain of steel.

Whatever was on the other side of the barrier wanted to get inside very badly, and Tiberius had more than a sneaking suspicion as to who or what it was. "Return to formation, and prepare for combat," he managed, the throbbing in his mind lessening slightly. Nodding, the two soldiers turned and took up positions, their patriarch falling in behind them.

The Celestial Guard had formed up into defensive barrier in front of the dais, all one hundred soldiers arranged in a rectangular formation twenty five across and four deep. The front two ranks were comprised of soldiers armed with gauss-halberds; spears as long as Tiberius was tall, tipped with gleaming blades underneath which was mounted a gauss-rifle, a weapon capable of flaying its target at a molecular level. In the third rank were the duellists, monofilament blades held in the guard position, sharpened on an atomic level. The final rank was the Aethermancers, specialised in the use of combat magic, a potent and deadly form of arcane energy that had to be wielded with great care, as it was capable of harming the user as much as its intended target. Tiberius took up position at the front of the Celestial guard, armoured plates of ceramite crawling up his exposed neck to shield it before another assembly rose from his back, unpacking to form his helmet, the plume of phoenix feathers mounted atop still ablaze as ever. As patriarch, he was expected to lead from the front, as should have been expected of any true warrior.

For several long minutes, nothing happened, save that the pulsing in his head grew worse every time it came upon him, washing up in waves of sharp pain before briefly receding. The Celestial Guard remained at attention, a glittering host of gold and steel, ready at a moment's notice to throw themselves and at any enemy. The pulsing came to a sudden stop, the sharp agony in Tiberius's mind slowly disintegrating into the dull undercurrent of a latent headache. The throne room was silent, as every equine held their collective breaths.

Boom.

Tiberius nearly screamed as the two granite doors on the opposite side of the chamber shattered into a thousand shards, sending a wave of dust billowing outwards to enshroud the entrance. His head felt as if it was on fire, the resultant backlash of aethereal energy created by the destruction of the wards carved into the door threatening to drown him, as a fierce ringing filled his ears. He stumbled, his vision swimming as he tried to focus his witch-sight, eyes closed and teeth grit. Somewhere behind him, he heard somepony shout what could have been his name, but as he opened his eyes, what awaited him killed the words on his lips.

The throne room was awash with raw magic, ribbons and trendils of energy saturating every surface as they were released from their arcane prison, surging in a vortex of power. Each was alive with a riot of colour, so intense and vibrant that he was forced to closed his eyes again for fear of going blind. Opening them a fraction, Tiberius was able to make out the archway entrance, silhouetted as a dense cloud of soulless black. A pair of hooves gripped his sides, pulling him from the floor. Pulling his vision from the witch-sight; Tiberius got to his hooves, staring blank eyed at the cloud of dust beginning to settle opposite him. The pair of hooves tried to pull him back into the ranks of the Celestial Guard, into the safety of his brothers in arms, but he battered them away, instead stepping a few feet forwards. "Show yourself!" he roared towards the shadows, his head spinning as he struggled to stay on his hooves. "Show yourself!"

From the shadows came a Daemon.

A blunt, scarred muzzle emerged from the wall of darkness, followed by a leering smile of stark white fangs. Accompanying the hellish grin came two blood red eyes bleeding streams of purple fire, and horn of red ivory that had more in common with the brutish form of an animal than the delicate, fluted spire of an alicorn. Tiberius felt anger and fear rise in his chest in equal measure; the creature before him was unmistakable, and one he both hated and feared.

Lord Sombra.

Stepping fully from the shadows, the dark alicorn revealed himself in his formidable entirety. He was armoured in full suite of oily black-gray metal, the plates fully encasing his body to leave only the ash-gray coat of his neck and head exposed. It was covered by a cape of thick, vibrant red fur, trimmed on the edges with ermine-white that was speckled with black blots, which Tiberius knew hid bat-like pinions. His mane was a thicket of black hair, and atop his head was sat a mocking parody of the celestial crown; a circle of silver metal with a gem of sickly yellow mounted at the front, flanked by wings of silver and red metal. Sombra was massive, his body a mass of muscle and raw power; a far cry from the naturally thin and lightweight frame of most alicorns.

As Lord Sombra advanced, the conjured shadow followed behind him. It seeped forward like liquid, a knee high lake of impenetrable darkness. Tearing his eyes from the very obvious threat in front of him, Tiberius looked past the alicorn to the hole he'd rent in the wall; easily over twenty meters wide, the breach gaped like a maw into the heart of darkness.

But what concerned the patriarch wasn't the breach itself; it was what was marching through it.

Pouring through the gaping hole was a horde of alicorns, a raucous, seething mass of metal, flesh, and armour. They were a far cry from the proud and regimented unity of the Celestial Guard, the host a riot of clashing colours and hued pennants. It seemed that rather than fighting in a cohesive unit, Sombra's followers marched to war as a conglomeration of noble houses under the banners of their disgraced lineages, each bearing the relic-banners of their households. Groups were clustered around what Tiberius knew to be the more dominant houses amongst the fallen, spying even in his condition the marks of the Dashwoods, Rancourts, and Night-reapers. Each were households that had committed grievous and unforgivable sins against the crown, and as punishment for their actions had been cast to the lowest rungs of the Celestial Levels.

Lord Sombra had crossed fully two-thirds of the distance from the dais before coming to a halt, his warriors coming to a halt thirty feet behind him. The dark alicorn surveyed the Celestial Guard before him, a mocking sneer on his muzzle exposing his gleaming fangs. From the mass behind him stepped a mare, gliding forwards silently to stand by the side of her lord. She was, perhaps, the most strange and repulsive aspect of the whole throng, differing from the host in a most fundamental way.

She was a unicorn, a Pre-equine.

In comparison to the alicorn beside her she possessed a minuscule stature, the tip of her horn only  reach Sombra's chin, yet there hung about her an aura of immense aethereal strength. Robed in a thick, hooded cloak of dark purple embroidered across the back with three cornflower blue stars; cunning, half-lidded violet eyes gazed across the divide between the two groups. Tiberius watched as she glanced across the royal court, dividing her attention between the soldiers of the Celestial Guard and the civilians on the dais, sparing Cadence a few moments attention before she looked her gaze on Tiberius himself, fixing upon him with an intensity the alicorn found unnerving. Around her neck lay an amulet held in place by a length of silver chain, forged from the same black-gray metal as her lords armour; an inverted triangle of metal with a shining ruby set into the centre. Above the gem rose the profile of an alicorns head, slit like eyes marked with the same precious gem, with wings of gray and red rising on either side.  

There was something in the mares eyes that seemed to tug on a deeply suppressed part of his soul, something that called out to the more base instincts of want and lust in his heart. Desire was something Tiberius had long since abandoned for the sake of duty, but the females evocative gaze threatened to overcome his self-control. The unicorn herself seemed to radiate perverse sensuality, her toned legs and deliciously plump rear a combination for which many a mare would kill to posses. Tiberius felt himself twitch slightly, the movement near-imperceptible, yet a lavacious smile slowly spread across the mares face as she batted her long eye-lashes in mock flattery. She leaned in close to Sombra, who brought his head low enough for her to whisper in his ear. The exchange was brief, the dark alicorns attention flitting briefly to Tiberius before the mare pulled away, smiling like a foal on her birthday as Sombra nodded and pulled himself back to his full, imposing height.

Silence settled as the two groups faced off, the glittering phalanx of the Celestial Guard against the undisciplined mass of Sombra's forces. The dark alicorn spent a few moments analysing his opponents before speaking in a deep, booming voice. "Your most royal highness," Sombra began, bowing low even as the mock sneer remained fixed in place. "I, your most humble servant, offer my most deepest condolences for the death of your husband. The patriarch was the greatest example for any one of us to live up to, may Faust accept him into the gardens of paradise."

"Don't speak of such things, blasphemer," came the reply, gentle in sound but harsh in tone. The voice belonged not to Cadence, as Tiberius knew, but to the high priestess Emmanuelle. "What would a Necromancer know of such things as Faust's holy realm?"

Sombra rose, his sneer replaced with a wicked smile. He chuckled, the deep, harsh rasp carrying easily in the deathly silence. "My dear priestess," he replied as his mirth died, his smile somehow managing to grow more devious still. "Should you ever converse with as multitudous departed souls as I have, than you will know that a Necromancer such as I possesses more knowledge of what lies beyond death than any member of the your false order."

"Blasphemy! Blas-"

"Enough!"  

All eyes turned to Princess Cadence, save those of Tiberius and the Celestial Guard, who stayed resolutely fixed on the enemy before them, ready to die in defence of their princess. The alicorn stood on her throne, silhouetted by the blazing light of the mid-day sun outside. A corona of eldritch energy encased her body, concentric halos of dazzling power circling the length of her horn. The fire of authority in her eyes had been replaced by a searing inferno of outrage; a look that could kill. Her anger was palpable as the silence returned, every occupant of the chamber, even Sombra himself to an extent, listening with instinctive obedience. "Sombra, you have finally chosen to reveal the treachery in your heart?" Her voice was cold, completely at odds to the smouldering fire of her eyes. Sombra snapped from his hushed trance in an instant, his wicked grin returning.

"Come, come, my princess. I never attempted to deny it." Tiberius growled at the mocking edge in Sombra's voice, though his anger at the mockery of the princess remained impotent for now. "Long have I waited for the joyous day I could reclaim what was mine by birth right, and now your foal of a husband is dead, the only 'obstacle' standing between me and my destiny is you. As you can see, I have an army; I have made strong those you deemed weak. Dashwood, Night-reaper, Rancourt; what you have cast aside I have made anew. Their hatred for you, for your soft, decadent kind is mine to command, mine to control. My forces out number you four-to-one, little princess. Surely even royalty can tell those are hopeless odds." Sombra gestured to the assembled host behind him, his fallen warriors snarling at the enemy in pent up bloodlust. For them, vengeance was at hoof.

"But I will not have it said that my reign began with an act of cruelty, I intend to play the good king. So to you, my fair princess, I extend this offer. Relinquish your throne, your power, and your inheritance to me, and I shall let you live out the rest of eternity as my favoured concubine. I shall lavish you with the attentions and affections you deserve, and in time allow you the privilege of bearing my heir. Refuse..." Lord Sombra's horn began to glow an intense violet, and from the empty air in front of him sprung an Arcane Blade of bloody-scarlet, a weapon comprised of pure energy. Such a thing spoke volumes of Sombra's abilities as a wielder of magic; an Arcane Blade being one of the most impossible forms of combat magic to master. The alicorn didn't dean to finish his sentence, the summoning of the blade sufficiently eloquent to get his point across.

Cadence laughed in return, heedless of the threat. "Sombra, I would rather have my head severed from my body and cast to the Pre-equines below, than let you place a single hoof upon me." She shoot the alicorn a look of utter and complete disgust. "You shall never have my throne, or me."

Sombra narrowed his eyes, his expression grim as he nodded in acceptance. "Very well then..." He brought his blade down, signalling the assault. With a blood thirsty roar that reverberated to the greatest heights of the throne room, the horde of fallen behind him surged forwards, ravenous in its need to get to grips with the hated foe. War-cries and vicious oaths filled the air as the fallen host surged past its master, weapons brought to bear and ready. As the Aethermancers of the Celestial Guard raised their kinetic shields, the front ranks began to fire their gauss-halberds, surges of emerald green energy lancing forward into the coming foe. Sombra remained fixed in place as his warriors charged forwards, his harsh laughter resonating above the cries of his army and the screams of those who were already dying.

"It has begun."            

Next Chapter: VIII: Anathema. Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 4 Minutes