If there was one thing Thompson’s training instilled in Alexia, it was causing her internal clock to have the annoying tendency to wake her up before the morning alarm sounded. The strange side effect was that it only happened when she knew the alarm was actually set. Today was no different and her eyes fluttered open to the dimmed morning light concealed behind the heavy curtains.

Tune found herself in a comfortable tangle of limbs. She was lying on her side with Crimson curled up in between the unicorn’s out stretched forelegs and was facing the same direction Alexia was. Anderson was close enough to feel the unicorn’s body heat on her back. Alexia found Loki’s own forelegs loosely wrapped around the base of her neck, with the leg on bottom having just enough room to keep from cutting off circulation. The green mare’s gentle breath lightly tousled Tune’s mane every few seconds.

Lastly, Conrad was acting as a pillow for all three mares; it was his idea while his head rested on an actual pillow. Crimson’s head was on his flank, Alexia’s on the center of his stomach with his wing affectionately draped over Tune’s neck and Loki’s foreleg. Loki’s head rested on his chest. Alexia thought it was silly that the green pony cooed softly at the rise and fall of his lungs. The ponies’ positioning took over a dozen attempts to find the most comfortable way for the four of them to sleep together, and they ended up quite pleased with the results.

Without moving, Tune gripped the clock in her magic and lifted it up so she could see it without disturbing the herd. Seven forty nine. Still have eleven minutes to enjoy some peace and quiet. She placed the clock in the approximate location to where it used to be, but she was unable to have direct line of sight without moving. When she didn’t hear the clock fall to the floor upon setting it down, she relaxed and took comfort in her mates’ contact.

Even with the impending alarm buzzer, the prospect of being officially recognized as a princess, and the stress of having to stand before international television; the intimate proximity of the three ponies she loved most robbed the anxiety of its bite. Her thoughts drifted to her womb. Well, the five ponies I love the most. I can’t wait to hold them in my hooves. She daydreamed of a happy future, living in a large house with foals scampering about. Not just her own children, but of Crimson’s and Loki’s as well. When they have any. I don’t think it’s a matter of if. Once we’re done with these four years and my people get on their feet and don’t need me anymore, we can retire from the limelight and live in peace together. Raise a big family, and further strengthen our species’ place in human society. No… terran society. That fits better.

The unicorn’s daydreams were harshly broken by the alarm clock’s screeching wail. With ears folded back to weaken the sonic assault, Crimson slammed a hoof on the infernal device. The ponies went through the morning routine with bleary awareness before remembering where they were and shifted to a moderately frenzied haste.

Within an hour they were cleaned and groomed to present themselves to the world. Breakfast was brought to their room and the group sat in various locations with their meal. Alexia and Loki sat on the bed. Crimson was on the chaise lounge that was rotated to face the bed, with the stallion perched up on top of the armoire. Loki briefly eyed the unicorn’s bacon with a pang of longing for things lost. Yet she knew risking having indigestion or worse today would not be a pleasant experience. She decided to distract herself with helping the bacon’s owner. “So Alex. I’ve been meaning to try something with you since dinner last night, but we got sidetracked.”

Tune gave her a comical sidelong glance. “You want to try different sexual positions?”

“Maybe later. Now is hardly the time,” the green mare replied as if it was a serious question. “But I think we need to work on your reaction to this whole princess title.” She saw the unicorn bristle at the term and pressed her point. “At least until you can hear it without gaging on all that bile.”

“It would certainly help if you didn’t display any anger over it while in front of the camera,” Conrad chirped in while chewing on a slice of ham.

“I hate to tell you Alex,” Crimson added, “but I don’t see this going away anymore.”

The silver pony forced her ire to subside with a few controlled breathes, an act all three members of the herd caught on. “So what did you have in mind?”

“Well…” Loki said before stuffing a wad of pancakes in her maw. “I think the three of us should call you princess all day, at least until you stop wigging out every time you hear it.”

Yeah, that’ll happen in a few hours. Alexia thought sarcastically. She ground her teeth together before realized that was exactly the reaction she couldn’t have in front of the camera. She pressed a hoof on her brow to keep a hornache from occurring. “Okay, and I’ll try to keep from exploding on you guys for it.”

Crimson smiled in a minor victory. At last, I can call her a princess. She may not believe it, but I think she has more than earned it.

Alexia heaved a heavy sigh. “I would feel better if I at least told Twilight about this.” Her horn lit up and the tome popped into existence. The distance between Washington and South Dakota made summoning the tome taxing, but Tune’s constantly increasing mana supply made the effort repeatable without winding her.

The group eyed the tome with contained enthusiasm at seeing Twilight again. Tune saw the purple circle was lit, but greatly diminished. She frowned slightly as she kept eating while levitating the book open and held it close so it could scan her.

Tune saw Sparkle’s hologram materializing and placed the book back in the floor. The unicorn’s suspicions were confirmed when Twilight did not move or react to visual stimuli. Alexia hazarded a question. “Sensei, are you there?”

The mouth did not move, however the alicorn’s voice came through in a slightly distorted fashion. “I am, dear student. But my surroundings are distorting my link with the Dusk Guard to the point where I can only listen and hear you.”

The herd shared a questioning glance at each other. Crimson was the one to ask the shared question. “Should we call back at a better time?”

“I can spare a few minutes if it’s important.” Twilight replied with moderate certainty. “I’m along the far western border of Equestria and the Silent Mountains which are disrupt towards commutative magic.”

Tune was curious. “May I ask why you’re there?”

“Celesta has requested Discord’s presence, but he hasn’t been receiving our communiqués because he’s taken up residence in these mountains. Outside of him suddenly desiring privacy, I’m not exactly sure as to why he would relocate here.” She paused for a few seconds. “But I doubt you called me for idle gossip. What can I do for you Alex?”

Tune rubbed the back of her neck to try to get rid of some of the nervous energy. “Well I’m in a bit of a pickle.” She went on to give the short version of the events since the marriage, including the announcements at the recreation center and the details of the dinner last night with the President. “So that’s why I wanted to at least let you know before this whole…princess thing happens.”

“I see,” Twilight said at length. The gathered ponies didn’t know if she was pausing her speech because of thought or because of her trying to navigate obstacles. “There are very clear laws in place about this. But in the end, you are not a subject Equestria nor of me, but of Earth. So you’re reign can be conducted as you see fit.” Twilight’s following plea was clearly evident through the static. “However I ask that you treat your subjects with the respect and dignity that they have come to love you for.”

Her mentor’s voice was badly garbled, but her words came through clearly enough. Alexia shifted nervously, she was still uncomfortable about thinking of anyone as her subject. “I will do the best I can.”

“I trust that you will my faraway student.” She continued to speak, but the distortion was too fierce to be heard.

“Sensei are you still there?” Tune called out, only to receive intense static before the hologram winked out entirely.

“Well I hope she has fun in the mountains,” Loki commented.

Ninety minutes later, President Fitzgerald was giving his opening statements to the press while Alexia paced nervously in the adjourning room with her mates present to give support. Thompson reread his copy of the president’s opening words. He knew it would not be long before Alexia was called to the stand.

“You should take comfort in the fact that your herd will be present as well.” He knew their presence would keep her anxiety as low as possible.

Conrad eyed him with curiosity. “We will?”

“Of course,” the Director replied flatly. “The three of you are to be presented as an honor guard of sorts. The CiC believed it would impress her royal status even further to treat you as such. That is why I wanted all four of you to be fitted by a tailor.”

Loki felt it was a good time to impose a mocking noble lady’s tone of voice. “Well I do declare good sir. That I believe you to be insulting my aesthetics! I’ll have you know I slaved over my coat to make it shine like silk I did.”

Thompson looked at her with a derisive eye. “I trust you put the same effort in your princess.”

Alexia suppressed a scowl while Loki rebuked. “For shame you rapscallion!” The green mare upturned her nose at the Director with an aristocratic harrumph. “To think I would place my own vanity before hers. Preposterous. Inconceivable. Scandalous! If I wore gloves I would slap you with one to restore my hona.”

“My apologies,” he replied dryly, “I was unaware you had honor to insult.”

Anderson and Conrad playfully recoiled at the verbal sparring. Tune glowered at the duelists, but went unnoticed.

Tzadavek waited impatiently as his watch slowly crawled to the appointed time. He was milling in an art gallery along its far eastern wall. “Section leaders. Release the breath of the gods in ten minutes.”

The Overseer leaned against the outer wall and peered out of the window. The nearby busy streets of D.C. gave way to the greenery surrounding the First Division Monument. While he could not see or sense them, he knew over a hundred Mions toured the park and its monuments. The thousands he had recruited from Rocky Springs were spread out amongst the city, ready to carry out his will.

Today will mark the beginning of the end for mankind. When all is said and done, they will sing songs of this day. And it will be my name that will be credited for this victory. His pulse pounded at the glory he knew would win. Tzadavek was impatience to begin, but not so much that he would start early. Oh no no no. The timing must be perfect. Too soon and we tip our hand, too late and our target will be gone. No. The appointed time is perfect. Glory can wait a bit longer.

Twilight Sparkle was surrounded by a lavender bubble that nullified most of the torrential winds around the mountains as she came down for a landing near a polka dotted cliff side cave. Her large wings gave one last flap to gently land on the cold ground before folding in on her sides. The newest princess of Equestria scanned the oddly colored entrance. “Well if this isn’t a big sign saying ‘Discord’s home’ I don’t know what is.”

The cave entrance had the tell-tale sheen of a barrier, but a quick inspection revealed it was only meant to stop the cold from entering, and did nothing to stop the alicorn. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she heard a coy laugh crawl its way up the stone.

“Well well if it isn’t my old buddy, pal, and all around good chum, Twilight Sparkle.” The purple mare stood impassively as Discord materialized in front of her with a flash of blue sugar. He twisted his serpentine body around to meet her eyes. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Twilight never liked dealing with Discord. She had forgiven him for his attempts to break her friends apart, but he was still a grating individual to speak to. “We need to talk about a mutual friend.”

His body broke apart with each piece floating into the air surrounding the alicorn and morphing into various familiar ponies. “Well you’re going to have to be more specific, we share so many.”

“I’m talking about the one from Earth.”

The floating facsimiles of her friends vanished and Discord reappeared whole in front of her. He was holding a doll in Tune’s image, with blue buttons for eyes and obvious stitching. “You mean this one?”

Sparkle nodded. “She’s not like the other ponies on Earth.”

Discord let the doll hang in the air in front of Twilight while he lazed about in the air. “Whatever do you mean Twily?”

“Don’t play dumb Discord. You know exactly what I mean.” She brought the unicorn doll close to her face and inspected it closely. “After all, you made her what she is.”

He sounded as if he was emotionally hurt. “My dear, you wound me. I gave Alexia her form, but I didn’t make her who she is. Tune did that all on her own.”

Sparkle looked away from the doll. “Its her form I’m worried about.”

He stopped spinning to stare at her with mock accusation. “Now what would make you say that? I would hope by now you would think higher of me than to create chaos tainted ponies again.”

The lavender alicorn looked at the doll’s goofy smile. “She hasn’t been a unicorn for even half a year and she’s progressing through her magical studies at a rate even faster than I did.”

“Well of course she would,” he responded casually as he inspected a claw. “You’ve had decades of time to study, so I gave her a little…accelerant to allow her to catch up with a pony of her age.”

“Would that accelerant cause her to have a mana flare?”

That stopped Discord’s lazy drifting and he looked at her with concealed amusement. “No, it would not. Did she have one?”

“It happened two days ago. There have only been five ponies that I know of who’s ever had a flare caused by an overdeveloped carbuncle.”

“Well you seem to have all the clues dear Twilight. Why don’t you go ahead and enlighten me what that massive brain of yours tells you.”

“I think…” She eyed him carefully, trying to sift through his mirth for the truth. “Alexia is a pony, of that I’m absolutely sure. But she is no unicorn. If she ever was one to begin with.”

Discord flashed and reappeared next to Sparkle and took the doll in his claw. “Really?” He inspected the toy. “She certainly looks like one to me. Perhaps your vision isn't what it used to be.”

She glared at him. “I don’t know everything, but I know this much. She passively radiates a very peculiar magic that gets stronger the more ponies she’s surrounded by. Its taken me a while to figure out what that magic does exactly.”

Discord snickered. “The suspense is killing me, do go on.”

Fitzgerald stood behind a podium that carried his seal of office. In front of him sat three dozen reporters and an equal number of cameras from worldwide news organizations. While the president had the clout to call any number of reporters needed, he made sure to stack it heavily with foreign news reporters. The press conference was five minutes in. Fitzgerald used this time to get everyone into the proper motions, the translators in the groove of moving the words from English to their respective native tongue, the reporters’ inquisitiveness at its height, and most importantly the setup to introducing the special guests.

The Commander in Chief followed everyone’s gaze, and knew not all eyes were on him. They wonder why there is a second short podium on a raised platform at my side; and yet no one has asked about it. No matter, they will learn soon enough. He pointed at the Japanese man in question. “Mister Hayate Gekko. You may have the honor of the next question.” He pressed a button under the podium to signal Thompson to ready Alexia for entry.

Hayate was extremely nervous as he stood up and bowed politely before speaking. He was the assistant to his more senior reporter and had not expected to be called upon. “Thank you sir. As you have explained to Brian Fay before me, you are here to call for a massive change in the sociological status of America, but I must say this comes as a surprise.” He glanced at his superior who nodded for him to ask the desired question. “We were unaware of any civil rights legislation within your country. So what is this change going to be exactly?”

“An excellent question Mister Gekko.” He dipped his head while the reporter took his seat. “For many years, man has often wondered if we are alone in the galaxy. Many believed that if we were ever going to find proof of life on other planets it would be from astronomers or, as the public might prefer for the drama of it all, in a ship capable of traveling the stars.” A round of polite chuckles circulated before dying down. “But today, those assumptions will have to be disappointed. With me today is proof of not just life on other planets, but sentient life willing to coexist peacefully.”

The general murmur in the room made Fitzgerald reveal a collected smile, rather than the smirk he wanted to show. He pointed at a different reporter. “Yes, go ahead.”

It was a male French reporter. “I have to say I’m a little surprised the White House of all things would be giving out this news instead of NASA or one of the many independent astronomers. How did you come about this discovery?”

Fitzgerald loved every second of this. He knew full well most nations of the world was like the U.S. and kept the existence of ponies an extremely tight lipped secret. Fear of a global panic was a good enough excuse for many to ignore their conscience. It also helped that it was almost a rule that those becoming ponies typically had plenty of time to figure out what was happening to them and disappear. Discord’s magic did not target people completely at random, and did not affect anyone who was incarcerated or otherwise physically or emotionally unable to flee society. As a result, the world at large was totally unaware of the magical equines’ existence.

At least for a minute or two more, Fitzgerald mused. “I can lay out the entirety of the courses of action and data that led to this discovery, but I will not do that.” He grinned, knowing full well the entire world was watching him. “Because I will let the representative speak for herself.” He swept an arm to the unicorn behind the curtain. “May I introduce Princess Alexia Tune and her entourage.”

Over a billion eyes watched a silver and azure unicorn, followed by two earth ponies and a pegasus, step out from a side room and walk towards the raised podium. Loud muttering passed between the news crews as Tune made her way to her position while the rest of the herd remained standing directly behind her, but still clearly visible for all to see. She nervously brushed her multicolored bangs out of her eyes and propped her forelegs up to she could reach the forest of microphones. It was her comparatively massive and highly expressive eyes with which the crowd zeroed in on first. She cleared her throat to keep work up the force of will to keep from cringing at her next words. “Hello, I am Princess Alexia.”

She was attacked with a hundred questions from the reporters all yelling with raised voices to be answered first. She was moderately comfortable with speaking in front of large gatherings of ponies, mostly because she could see their faces and guess how she should act. However, she knew the numerous cameras arranged around the room bore silent witness for the world at large. It was that, which terrified her most.

Fitzgerald was not willing to be cruel in this. If he was honest with himself, he needed the unicorn to put on a good show. He leaned into his podium to give a tactful request before Alexia could wilt under the pressure. “May I have your attention please.” The reporters complied relatively quickly. “Now I know that you, and the world at large have many questions. But we must ask them one at time.” He pointed at a German reporter. “Yes, you.”

“Simon Färber,” he stated to identify himself. “Is true you are an alien, and if so how did you get here?”

Alexia forced her mental perception of the room to ignore the cameras entirely and think of the reporters as if they were fellow ponies. It wasn’t of much help because her eyes told her the audience was all humans, but it did allow her voice to remain level. “Sort of yes and no. Five months ago I was a human and living in Kansas as a run of the mill U.S. citizen. Through forces I can try to explain later, I was transformed into a pony, or unicorn to be more precise. I did not arrive in a ship as I was already here to begin with. My species may be from a different world, all of the ponies on our planet are native to Earth.”

Fitzgerald pointed at a second eager reporter. “Then why are you evidence of life on other planets? For all we know, you could be the result of biological experiments.”

She had been given no guidelines as to what she could say, outside of saying nothing about The Ranch. “I-ah. I have been in contact with one of the leaders of my species’ homeworld, the planet Equis. I am not aware of the location of my kind’s homeworld, but I can tell you that my species did evolve on its own. As for my kind's homeworld, their technology is far below ours so I know they are not responsible for us turning into ponies.”

“What do you want from us?” asked an Australian.

Tune’s ability to speak was becoming easier, but she noticed tingling sensation emanating from her carbuncle. I just have butterflies in my stomach, all I have to do is keep calm. “All we want is to coexist alongside humanity. As I said, every pony in the world was originally human. We still have human friends and family we would like to return to.”

“How many of you are there?”

Fitzgerald butted in to answer that. “Well I can only speak for the States, and even then we do not have a complete census, but we estimate the total population within our borders numbers at an estimated twenty five thousand.” Even we cannot catch all of them. Doubtless many are in hiding. He knew that number was being extremely conservative. The one thing that bothered him most was that no ponies, outside of Alexia’s stunt at the science fair, ever wanted to try and reveal their existence. Was it simple fear? Or something instinctually causing them to shy away from civilization?

A safe house outside of Gubakha, Russia was home to seven humans and twelve ponies. All of them were part of a secretive group dedicated to rescuing ponies from being picked up by the Federal Security Service. The humans were friends and family of the ponies.

A man named Rurik was carrying a steam pot of stew to the ponies gathered on the second floor of the house. A woman by the name of Lyudmila leaned against the staircase as Rurik walked out of the kitchen.

He stopped to speak with her. “How are they?”

She looked up to the ceiling in the general direction of her formerly human brother. “They are getting worse. I had hope they would continue to get better after gathering more of them together in one place, but that only delayed their decline. I had to take a knife from Yakim to keep him from killing himself.” She kicked the wall out of frustration and to keep from tearing up at the memory. “The longer they remain ponies, the worse they become. I don’t know how long until they all become suicidal.”

Rurik sympathized, his sister was upstairs as well. “I have the vegetable stew,” he said while gently moving the large pot he was carrying, “could you grab the beef stew that’s still on the stove?”

She felt as depressed as the ponies, but didn’t allow herself to be consumed by it. “Of course.”

He watched her go before moving up the stairs. The floorboards creaked and groaned under his weight as he made his way up to the second floor. He could hear the television coming from the large communal room on the south side of the building. He found it strange to hear the sound of a Russian translator speaking over a quieted English speaker. Why bother with the news, it’s filled with nothing but sinking stock prices, propaganda, and the death toll from those clouds.

The communal room was decorated with several floor pillows, a moderately sized television with a satellite connection and nothing else. Of the twelve ponies in the room, only five had the will to sit up straight and watch the screen. Rurik saw the rest of the ponies were stricken with a malady he found most perplexing, they were various shades of grey. It was most pronounced in Yakim who used to be a vibrant teal color, but over the last four months that had faded completely into a dull and lifeless grey.

Rurik and the other humans who supported the hideout researched as many illnesses as they could, from human to equine and everything in between. Yet nothing could explain why they were turning grey, and the greyer they became, the worse their depression. Yakim had not eaten in days, and had to be forced to drink water. If the formerly teal unicorn had the strength of will to resist, he wouldn’t even take the water.

Rurik turned away from the disheartening sight to place the stew on the floor near the television. The more recent equine arrivals still had most of their color, with a lone earth mare still retaining a strong eggshell white coat. “Veggie stew here.” He glanced up to the television to see the United States’ President giving an address. “Why are you watching the Americans?”

“It beats reruns of Faktor A,” a mare by the name of Marfida replied. “Besides, we have a bet going that his ‘big’ announcement will be a war with China.”

Rurik removed the bowls from the side of the pot and doled out the food to the unicorns and earth ponies who were willing to eat, and setting aside bowls for those who would be force-fed later.

Lyudmila entered a minute later carrying the second pot of stew and set it down next to the first one. By now, all eyes were on the hot food and the still functioning equines were devouring the offered food.

Yet one thing, caught the ear of curiosity from the room’s occupants as the translator spoke three words: Printsessa Alexia Tune. The group of Russians found it odd that the Americans’ big announcement was about some unknown royal family; but as soon as the silver unicorn came on screen, a synapse fired in the minds of all witnessing ponies. The equines were only half interested in the television until the silver mare appeared and took the stand to introduce herself. As soon as Alexia spoke, all of the room’s ponies who heard her felt as if they were being called to her. That she would give them a reason to live.

Rurik huffed in amusement. “Well I’ll be damned. The Americans have finally lost it.”

Lyudmila’s attention was more on the equines in the room than the one on screen. To her profound shock, she saw those ponies that were watching the news broadcast were beginning to lose the heavy grey in their fur and hair, and were returning to their original colors. The ponies who were too despondent to get up and grab some food, looked over to the news and saw Alexia on screen.

They too started to regain their color and resolve. It was not long before eleven vibrantly colored ponies were crowding the television with unwavering attention solely focused on Tune. Lyudmila saw her brother was missing and looked to see he was still over in the furthest bed from the screen, curled up and facing away from the broadcast. Whoever that is, is helping our friends recover. I’ll be damned if I lose Yakim.

She marched over to her completely grey brother. “Get up and eat you spineless cur.”

Yakim couldn’t even speak anymore, and the light was almost completely gone from his half lidded eyes. His spirit was so faded that it would not be long before he would no longer need that knife to find death’s embrace.

“I refused to let you die Yakim,” Lyudmila snarled. He made no response, and only seemed to fade even further. Lyudmila unceremoniously hefted the unicorn stallion on her shoulder and pushed her way to the front of the television and plopped her brother in front of the broadcast. The others only barely responded before fixating their attention on Tune again. The lone woman grappled Yakim’s head and pulled it up to stare at the screen while using her free hand to pry his eyelids open.

Within the dying embers of Yakim’s mind, he was too far gone to truly see anymore and everything was out of focus. His depression was so overpowering, it was choking his magic to the point where he couldn’t produce it anymore. As the last vestiges of his magic faded from the unicorn’s body, he was on death’s door as his body shutdown without its needed sustenance.

And yet something caught his ear. At first it was just an unintelligible muffle that was being super imposed by another. One of the other ponies knew a station that would be playing the same broadcast, but without the translator marring the silver mare’s voice. Once that happened, Yakim heard the feminine voice loud and clear. His carbuncle flickered with a hint of life and a fresh, but weak, pulse of mana radiated out and brought more strength to his starved body.

Slowly, his ears started to stand straight, and his eyes slowly regained their focus. Lyudmila watched him carefully as the first signs of teal returned to his coat. The more the silver mare spoke, the stronger he became. His sister slowly let go over the course of five minutes. Her brother was able to sit up straight for the first time in days. He was slightly emaciated from the starvation his body was suffering, but his vision never wavered from the mare on screen.

“Who…who is that?” His voice took on a reverent quality. It was the first time Lyudmila had heard him speak all week. Only when the camera focused on Fitzgerald was Yakim able to peel his eyes away from the screen to face his sister. “Who is that?”

Lyudmila teared up at her brother's recovery and bear hugged him from behind. I don't care that he isn't human. I still have my brother, and that's all that matters to me.

One of the other ponies answered his question after letting the siblings have their moment. “She’s Printsessa Alexia.” All eyes returned to the screen when she reappeared to answer a question. Most of them had no comprehension of English, but they didn’t care. All they wanted to hear was her enthralling voice.

“We must go to her,” a different pony said, and was met with a chorus of agreements.

Rurik was baffled. “I’ll admit its nice the Americans want to openly accept ponies, but that is one hell of a journey to make.”

“Not to mention expensive,” Lyudmila added.

“I don’t care how we do it!” Yakim protested as he jabbed a hoof at the screen while staring into his sister's tear streaked eyes. “She…” his eyes darted around the room as he searched for the proper words, but they failed him. “We have to go to her. She’s…I can’t explain it. But I know we must.” Every other pony nodded in agreement as the channel frustratingly changed to commercials.

Rurik scratched his head in bewilderment at the startling change in the equines’ demeanor. Whoever that Printsessa is worked a miracle on them, if for nothing else we can try to get them to America to be free of the FSB.

Throughout the world, as more and more ponies watched the press conference, Alexia’s alluring charisma strengthened. That in turn caused more ponies to see her as a leader which only fueled the charisma even further. It was not long before almost every pony on Earth who had access to a television was watching her. The power of mass media spread Alexia to all corners of the globe, and her magic along with it.

Twilight Sparkle brushed some stubborn snow off her wings. “From what I've seen of the earthling ponies, most of their souls are in a state of flux between human and pony. Tune radiates a very specific frequency of magic that hooks into these ponies and makes the soul's transition into a pony easier by several factors. As time goes on, Alexia's passive magic creates a bridge between the host and the soul until the two become one."

Discord scratched a claw as he listened to the mare speak. "Because having a weak connection between body and soul rots both, the magic she has is capable of repairing the damage and it creates euphoria as a byproduct. The ponies grow to see her as the source of their new found hope, but never understanding or caring why. All they know is that she is the reason they have a will to live again and love her for it. If my assumptions are correct, by the time the individual’s soul fully converts to that of a pony and is no longer affected by that charismatic aura, the love they have for her becomes natural and is no longer forced upon them.”

Discord clapped noisily. “Bravo, bravo. I knew you’d get it eventually.”

“But the one thing that bothers me Discord. Is that no unicorn is capable of doing this. Its just not possible.”

The draconicus summoned a suit and top hat with a glass of strawberry jam and drank the red from the jam before speaking. “Well my dear Watson, just what are you accusing me of?”

Sparkle knew the answer, but wanted confirmation from him. “Alexia is an unawakened alicorn. And she’s been one from the beginning, hasn’t she?”

A low creeping laugh bubbled its way to the surface as the chaotic entity roiled in the air. “Not the very beginning no. But after seeing she had adopted those annoyingly sweet Equestrian ideals so readily, I decided to stack the deck.” He created a wad of cotton candy and spoke while eating. “Do you know what I discovered after meeting her?” He grinned as Twilight shook her head. “Is that the modern equestrian pony is drawn to the ideals of harmony instinctually. But Alexia was the only one at that time who integrated that into her psyche, while others clung to their old ideals. So I gave her a boost and remade her a little so she could generate that magic naturally.”

“But seeing as I knew you weren’t going to keep your nose out of it forever, the only way to make that happen was to turn her into an unawakened alicorn.”

Twilight was flummoxed. “You barely knew her and you gave her that kind of power?! What if she had suffered some mental snap and turned to darkness?”

Discord tutted while wagging his finger. “You really think I would allow her to be a repeat performance of Luna? No my dear, you see there was a condition I put into it to make sure Alexia would not have that kind of power should she fall.”

Sparkle was unsure if she should be impressed or troubled by his foresight. “And how did you do that?”

He twirled through the air and fashioned two more dolls in Alexia’s image. The one on the right looked normal while the left one was discolored and had a viscous sneer. He held the normal doll up. “So long as Tune remains true to those ideals you ponies treasure so much, her aura will draw in more followers and she will one day ascend to alicornhood.” The silver doll developed a pair of wings.

“If however she relapsed and lets her old species’ mentality of hate and misery become her watchwords…” The discolored mare withered and decayed to ash. “Well, let’s just say I would have to find another candidate.”

The lavender alicorn didn’t know if she should nag him about potentially killing her student, or thank him for not letting a potential Nightmare loose on Earth. “So what is the trigger that will awaken her?”

Discord wiped a laughter induced tear out of his eye. “Come now Sparkle, do you really think I would tell you? It has to be a surprise.”

“I’m not asking because I want it to happen too early or not at all,” she yelled back with an undercurrent of worry. “Because I fear that the trigger is based on how many ponies devote themselves to her. If too many ponies look to her for leadership, she’ll awaken.” Discord scowled, and that made Twilight’s blood run cold. “So its true.” She shook her head to clear her terror away. “Do you realize she could awaken at any moment? She never had time to rectify the damage caused by the mana flare! She’s not mentally ready for it!”

He scoffed. “Please. She would need the allegiance of at least five hundred thousand ponies before the awakening could occur. Besides, the number of humans I turn into ponies will cap out at roughly four million, and half of which are changed already. It’ll be years before she meets enough ponies to trigger it, if ever. Alexia’s passive magic only works if the other ponies can see her face and hear her talk at the same time.”

“Discord you idiot!” Twilight raged. “Do you have any idea what kind of technology Earth has!?”

He shrugged. “A better mouse trap?”

“No,” the alicorn replied coldly. “Her face is moments away, if not already, from being plastered all over the globe on boxes that can display her actions and speech in real time. She’s going to be visible for everypony on Earth to see!”

Discord’s mouth hung open for a few seconds with a raised talon. “That…might be a problem.”

Alexia was utterly miserable. Her skin felt like it was covered in ants, her muscles were sore all over the place, and her spine felt like there were two drilling knives trying to carve her bones out halfway down her back. It took everything she had to remain standing, but Fitzgerald was disconcerted about how profusely she was sweating. Her mates were highly distressed for her safety and Conrad was inches from pulling her down from the stand and away from the gathered reporters.

Tune raised a shaky hoof to a Chinese reporter in the back who stood up to speak. “So tell me. What exactly are you a princess of?”

From behind the podium, Tune pulled and pinched her skin with her magic to try and alleviate some of the discomfort while keeping it hidden from the cameras. She had to truly focus on the question to make a meaningful response. “I am merely a leader for my people here in America. The title was not my choosing, as it was the ponies in my…resort who picked it. I would have preferred something more modern. As I discussed with the president earlier, I will have no political authority over them or of the American government.”

A secret serviceman discretely stepped up to the President. “Sir, we have a situation going on in the city. We have what appear to be several small brown clouds spreading out in multiple locations. I strongly advise you to adjourn this conference for a different time.”

“Very well.” The agent nodded and moved off to carry out his preexisting duties while the President tapped on the microphone to interrupt the question midsentence. “My apologies, but I feel that we should take a quick recess.”

It was a little early for one, but it was understandable. Servicemen quickly led the equines to the side room followed by Fitzgerald. As soon as they were in the next room, the president spoke to Menville who was waiting for him. “What’s the situation?”

“We’re not sure how but there are whole sections of the city blanketed in what we’re assuming to be the psychotropic clouds.”

“Why didn’t the weather system detect it?”

“We don’t have that information yet sir. But we’ve sealed the White House and activated the internal life support. My men will escort the reporters to the west wing. Given the oddity of the situation however, I’ve requested air support and they should be here in less than twenty minutes.”

Fitzgerald nodded and turned to tell the ponies to follow him to the bunker when he saw three of them were crowded around Alexia. She was sweating profusely and her fur was being magically pulled in all directions in a vain effort to stop the painful itching. He stepped over to speak with them. “Is she ill?”

Crimson was trying to figure out what was wrong, but her limited knowledge was insufficient. “I don’t know. She was fine before the conference, and now she’s itching like crazy. All I know it that it’s not something external.”

“Is she a danger to us?” The man didn’t know what magic could do if it was unstable.

“Not if she can help it,” was all Crimson could say.

It was a risk, but Fitzgerald had an investment in the silver unicorn. Without her, he would never be able to leverage the ponies to his advantage. He turned to Menville. “Take her with us, but keep her away from the command center just in case.”

Loki helped drape their alpha on Conrad’s back. The pegasus looked up to the serviceman. “I’ve got her; just tell us where to go.”

(“Discord, do you know why my ascension was painless?”)

As the ponies ran through the halls of the White House, Tune squirmed on Conrad’s back. The throbbing pain on her spine was mind-numbing as her imperfect mana system fought to complete her metamorphosis. Yet it found resistance in almost every aspect of it. That resistance manifested as withering pain, itchiness, and muscle weakness.

The other two mares stole glances at her at every opportunity to watch with horror as the skin over Alexia’s back was starting to protrude in two places.

(“I’m sure you’re going to tell me Twilight.”)

Menville guided the group to a large elevator, but it was not large enough to take everyone on the first trip so the servicemen stayed behind. “Mister President, there will be escorts waiting at the bottom.”

“Good. I want you to keep the ground floor secure. The last thing we need is some panicked idiot running outside in some stupid attempt to see if their family is okay and breaking containment. I don’t want even one iota of that cloud getting inside.”

“Yes sir.”

(“My itineris system took years to not only correct, but time to settle in on its new functionality. Alexia has had two days. I can only hope she isn’t driven mad by the pain, because it will not allow her the comfort of unconsciousness.”)

Her entire world was burning agony. Her skin crawled, her bones ached, her muscles felt stretched and torn. But it was the two points of white hot torture in her back that left her incapable of screaming in pain.

Crimson rounded a corner with the group and took another look at her alpha. The pale yellow mare almost tripped on her hooves at seeing white bone break through the skin of Alexia's back. It had a sickening film of blood covering it as the bone forced its way into the world. Tune’s face was twisted in a tortured silent scream, as her voice was currently incapable of expressing her pain.

Fitzgerald entered the command center which was already abuzz with activity as military forces were scrambling to don their CBRN suits and aircraft were taking to the air. The president walked straight towards Commander Stark. “Why didn’t our detection system warn us?”

“Right now sir, that’s just one of our problems. We have riots all over D.C. and we believe the cloud was perpetrated artificially.”

He was taken aback by the theory. “Artificially? How is that possible?”

Stark clicked the large screen to display a real time satellite image of the D.C. area. Unlike all other clouds before it, this one was lower to the ground and still patchy in some areas as the dense brown soup refused to fill the spaces. “Those civilians who couldn’t find a shelter in time have fled to these areas, but there are reports of criminals in gasmasks assaulting people in their homes and businesses while pulling them into the clouds.”

“What about the local police?”

Stark shook his head and he switched the visual to the various police stations. The brown gas wasn’t flowing around the station, but out of it through windows and vents. “They were hit first. “It will take time before-“ a muffled explosion and a blaring alarm sounded within the bunker.

Stark and Fitzgerald looked to an operator who yelled a warning. “We have breach in the east wing. Unknown cause.”

Stark wasn’t going to take chances. “Lock down the DUCC. Nothing comes in or out.”

Off to a side room, Conrad and the other mares were at a loss as to how to react to the two skeletal wings pushing their way out of Alexia’s back. A thin line of muscle and sinew connected the joints and the glowing azure magic around them caused the muscles to constantly expand and grow to fill out. Alexia’s coat had a steady stream of blood oozing from of the wounds in her skin as she cried silently in complete agony. She was unable to make a sound except for choking sobs. Her eyes were slammed shut as streams of tears ran down her face and runny snot dribbled from her snout.

Loki was searched her mates with a traumatized expression. “We have to help her!”

“How?” Crimson countered before looking to Conrad. “Is this how you grew wings?”

“No. Mine grew in with the skin and muscle already in place. The feathers came in later.” He wanted to hold her and try to ease her pain; but with her proto-wings cracking and twitching their way out, he dared not to touch her. Any movement could make things worse.

The only thing the herd could do for their alpha, was to watch and wait. That feeling of helplessness tore them apart.

Tzadavek watched three dozen Mions throw themselves into the Secret Service agents defending the interior of the White House. Every last one of them was cut down in a matter of seconds, but they still managed to kill a few agents every time a wave threw themselves at the defenders. The loss of life didn’t matter to him as he had thousands at his disposal and he sent in two dozen more. The building was cloaked in the choking brown fog that covered most of the city.

From his vantage point a few feet away from the executive building, he saw smoke rising from fires raging across the city. The capital was in chaos as the helicopters above tried to differentiate between targets and civilians. All too often, a lone Mion would push his way into a fleeing crowd and fire up at the attack helicopter, only to have the pilot either fall back or rake the entire crowd with gunfire.

The overseer heard the gunfire in the White House cease. These are just fodder anyway. “Grenadiers. Obelisks.”

Thirty more intelligent and well-armed Mions joined him along with two very bulky Mions who were too large to effectively blend into a crowd anymore. “It won’t be much longer before the air power takes out our stinger launchers and reclaim the airspace over the White House. We need to get inside before that happens.”

“By your will Overseer.” They replied in unison

Menville saw the latest wave peter out. We can’t stay here, the cloud is getting too close and we don’t have suits to fight in it. “Parez, Vealter. Go to the armory and gather more ammunition, we’re falling back to the elevator.”

The two servicemen never got the chance as the agents heard the telltale thumps of three grenade launchers and the plinking sound of the ordinance bouncing towards them. There was no need to shout an order as all of the surviving agents tried to run from the ordinance.

A split second later, the hallway exploded with shrapnel. Before any of the agents could fully recover, heavy and fast footfalls pounded into the room and two inhumanly large Mions carrying war hammers waded into the defenders. Menville recovered his weapon and fired a full clip into the nearest obelisk. It groaned and fell to the ground.

Assuming it was dead, Menville quickly reloaded as the second obelisk as it crushed the skull of one agent and threw the body into another before he could fire. The special agent was too calm under fire to give pause to the sheer size and speed of the inhuman beast and leveled his pistol to empty his last clip.

He only managed to get off two rounds before a rusted twisted piece of metal in the form of a hammer flew at him and slammed into his hands, knocking the gun away and leaving his wrist a shattered mess. Menville stumbled back and yelled in surprise and pain. More Mions filled the room to kill the broken defenders, but they all ignored him save for the obelisk he thought he had killed.

Now that he was able to get a good long look at the massive nearly eight foot behemoth, Menville saw his face was a rusty scarlet and only visible skin. The beast had eight holes along his left side that had short streams of blood on his clothes, but his wounds were being healed by the Obelisk’s unique connection with the hive mind. The wounds were healed by drawing draining the psychic energy from three nearby lesser Mions who dropped dead as their lives were snuffed out.

At the Obelisk’s approach, Menville reached for his the knife behind his back. The scarlet monster slammed a boot on the agent’s chest, pinning his blade arm behind his back. “You fought well.” His voice was akin to grinding stones.

“That he did,” called the Overseer as he stepped inside the room. “He will make an excellent convert.” Tzadavek rolled up his sleeve as he approached the fallen agent and a parasite wormed its way out and screeched in excitement of being granted a host.

“Who or whatever you people are,” Menville threatened, “will never win. We’ve dealt with terrorists before, you will fall just like all the others.”

“I see, says the blind man.” The obelisk quoted with a snarl.

The thumping sound of helicopter gunships passed overhead. The Mions still outside the building were cut down with such rapidity that the flow of reinforcements into the White House ceased almost immediately. Menville sneered at the two Mions lording over him. “None of you will leave this building alive.”

Tzadavek chuckled darkly. “And you think it’s still possible for me to die.” He gestured for the obelisk to take the knife out from behind the agent and slice a small hole in his skin. “This lightbringer,” the overseer indicated the writhing parasite, “has a special task in store for you.”

From the bunker below, Crimson flinched at the crump of a dozen more explosions above. Yet her only real concern was the silver mare before her.

The skin at the base of Alexia’s wings started to grow up the length of her new limbs which were encased in an azure glow. As the tips of her wings were finally protected by skin, the nerve endings grew throughout the featherless appendages. That was what broke through her silent screams and Tune shrieked with unbridled pain so loud it forced the other ponies back towards the door.

As her nervous system connected itself to her wings, feathers started budding all over the appendages. Conrad knew in an instant that these were not like his pegasus wing. They were longer and fuller towards the end as the silver feathers pushed their way to completion. Her mind threatened to shatter under the pain completely, but two things kept the mare from allowing that to happen: the herd and her unborn children. Were it not for those two anchors acting together, she would have lost her mind near the beginning.

The two earth mares crowded around the lone stallion to wait out the silver mare’s transformation. Pained by the fact they could do nothing for her except to wait.

The command center’s internal security camera feeds were filled with the staccato of gunfire and incomprehensible war cries. Earlier, the open elevator shaft that had been pried open and five large canisters of pressurized fog were dropped into the first hallway. All it had taken was some carefully placed misinformation in the news to make the humans think gasmasks weren’t enough to prevent exposure and the bunker had not yet been equipped with full NBC suits.

As a result, the soldiers had to fall back away from the cloud as it spread through the hallways and robbed them of the perfect defensive positions that could have been afforded to them.

Once Tzadavek was certain the time was right, he commanded his followers to breach the elevator and storm the bunker. As a result, the Mions were able to get a strong foothold in the bunker and were pushing their way deeper into the facility. Each step was bought in blood, but it was blood the Mions were all too eager to pay.

In less than half an hour, there were only twenty men between the elevator and the command center. That zone of control was shrinking as the fog rolled in and men died at the hands of the stronger and more intelligent Mion types. Fitzgerald was not very familiar with the workings of an active battle and went to Stark to find answers. “What’s the status on the House’s defense?”

The commander didn’t like being interrupted, but he had to answer. He pointed at the bird’s eye view of the White House. “Three gunships have secured the outer parameter and have stopped the flow of hostile reinforcements into the building. But we don’t know how many managed to get inside before that happened. Four transports from Andrews airbase are en route to resecure this position, but I don’t think they’ll make it in time.”

“How much time?” the president demanded.

Stark heard the chatter coming from the House defenders. “Too long. I suggest you retreat to the underground metro station.” The commander pulled his pistol. “We’ll buy you all the time we can.”

Fitzgerald was a prideful man. The act of abandoning the White House was abhorrent, but in the end he would not let pride disrupt the nation. “May God help us all.” He faced the door leading to where the ponies had sequestered themselves. He heard the pained screams from that direction and remembered the odd growths coming out of Alexia’s skin before she was taken out of sight. The man saw two guards by the door leading to the elevator. I still need her, but if she’s become something dangerous; better to kill her now than let her possibly getting free.

He strode over to one of the guards. The soldier was obviously shaken, but he did his best to hide it. That effort was for naught as he came face to face with the commander in chief and was inches from quaking in his boots. Fitzgerald ignored the soldier’s nervous energy and looked at his nameplate before speaking. “Plunkett, I need your sidearm. You’re coming with me.” Falling back on his military bearing, Plunkett expertly put his carbine aside and withdrew his pistol and handed it to the President.

Thompson pulled himself away from his observations of the screens to speak to him. “Sir, what are we going to do with my operatives?”

The craggy and ill at ease Commander in Chief studied the man carefully. “I’ve invested too much in her to leave her to the enemy, whoever they may be. But you saw something strange was happening to the Princess.” The Director nodded slowly, prompting Fitzgerald to continue. “I’m going under the assumption that this is abnormal for them.”

Thompson’s mouth was a pressed line to try and conceal his concerns. “Very.”

“Then I trust you will do what is necessary should this thing that’s happening to her causes Tune to become violent.”

The Director nodded solemnly. “My loyalty is to the States and to you sir.”

The older man gave a nonverbal grunt of approval. “As it should be. Come.” Normally Fitzgerald would let the other two men take the lead into the small room where the ponies hid themselves. Logic and reason told him that would be the safest course of action. After all, it was a soldier’s job to protect the president from any and all threats. I haven’t heard and of that infernal screaming for some time now. It sounded like it was only coming from one person, and I didn’t hear sounds of a struggle.

Fitzgerald guided his escort to the room twenty eight steps away from the command center to find the room already have three guards standing at the ready with their carbines pointed at the door. The wall surrounding it all was plain concrete and the door itself had blue paint but was otherwise unremarkable with a sign on the door reading “Provisions Closet”. One of the guards sidestepped towards Fitzgerald but kept his eyes and weapon pointed at the door. Judging by President’s posturing, the guard knew exactly what he was planning to do. “Sir, I strongly advise you to not go in there. There’s no telling what happened with all that screaming.”

“I am aware of that son, but these equines are not our enemy.” He was bluffing as he had no idea what was happening to the unicorn. He tapped his sidearm meaningfully. “I’m not going in unarmed, but I need to be the first to see them.”

The soldiers didn’t like it, but they couldn’t say no. “Yes sir.”

Fitzgerald steeled himself and opened the door while keeping his pistol concealed.

Over ten minutes earlier, Alexia’s vision was completely out of focus and there was an intense ringing in her ears. Something moderately heavy was pulling on her back and she felt burning embers of pain all over her body. Her coat and hair was damp with sweat and the somewhat cramped room reeked of perspiration and blood.

As the cognitive numbing fire in her body ebbed away, Tune’s senses started to correct themselves. Her swimming vision had only been able to detect three shapeless forms around a well lit room. Now her vision was improving and started to bring definition to those shapes. The ringing in her ears was giving way to muffled, yet familiar voices of concern. Alexia’s mana was in such complete disarray from the metamorphosis fighting through her badly damaged itineris system that it was taking a long time to settle down and allow her body to resume normal functionality.

She couldn’t handle the disrupted images and sounds she was receiving and curled up in a fetal position and weakly shoved her hooves in her ears to drown out the garbled voices. Alexia was only mildly aware that the act was causing her pain on some foreign limb on her side. Make it stop. Make it all go away! Something or someone lifted her up and fixed the pain on her side and put her back down. It gave her some relief, but that was not what she wanted to stop. She wanted pain from the foreign things on her back to go away.

Alexia cracked her eyes open to see three looming shapes, but she couldn’t make out what they were yet. The voices calling out to her were increasingly familiar, but her brain couldn’t connect the dots as her synapses were still overstimulated. The one thing she knew, almost entirely by instinct, was that the three shapes were not going to harm her. Who or what are those?

She blinked several times to try and get her eyes to work properly and pulled her hooves out of her ears to listen to voices she knew she loved, but didn’t know why. The voices spoke to each other briefly before one of them reached out to her with a brown blob. Alexia flinched at it, and the blob pulled back. She watched it with wild eyes, still not fully cognitive of her surroundings.

The long brown blob slowly reached for her again, only this time she laid there and watched it reach behind her head and started rubbing the top of her head and neck. The act felt as if waves of calm started to sweep away the tension in her neck and face. Tune felt her thoughts calm down and her senses slowly return to normal. The voices started to clear up along with her vision after four minutes.

“Alwef,” The words were still garbled, but the tone was a soft comforting baritone. “Wedxia. Tyke ui.” Again the words were incomprehensible to her. But just hearing the voice hastened her recovery.

Soon the other solidifying blobs reached out and touched her lovingly. “Cowe un Aowxia, Wr Nrgd ysd gs gdt ui.”

The cobwebs of her mind were being brushed away and her eyes finally managed to bring the three ponies she loved most back into focus. Her bone dry tongue refused to cooperate at the moment, but she was able to direct her ears in the herd’s direction and smile. Her brain was finally able to function properly again and she croaked out a harsh whisper. “Can I get some water?”

Crimson looked around and saw a pile of stacked water bottles and got Loki to help pry the plastic wrap off before withdrawing several bottles. The medic propped Alexia’s head up and fed the bottle to her in small sips, instead of giving into the silver mare’s desire to chug the whole bottle in one go. “Take it easy Alex. You just underwent-“ The pale yellow mare stared at the large avian wing resting on Tune’s side. The other was hidden under the former unicorn’s barrel. “-something.”

After finishing one bottle, Tune winced at a hoof jabbing her in the side. Loki couldn’t stop herself. “So can you feel these?”

“Feel wha—“ Tune trailed off as she turned her head to see Loki gently unfolding a large silver wing attacked to her back. For the longest three seconds in her life, Alexia was completely dumbstruck at the presence of the feathery appendage. She could feel the nerve endings within it cooling off from the rapid growth, and Loki’s grip slightly tugging on several feathers with her hoof’s magic as she held the wing slight above Tune’s barrel. “What? Why do? What’s a wing doing there?!”

“Well I would imagine its general purpose is to allow you to go peacocking,” Loki replied instantly. “But since you’re already in a herd I don’t see the point.”

Tune tried to move the new addition and her left wing twitched out of Loki’s grip, but at the same time, Alexia felt its twin try to move out from under her. The silver mare was pushed onto her belly by the right wing trying to move in tandem with its counterpart. Her mates gave Tune some room so she could take stock of herself.

Conrad still remained close by. “Are you still in pain?”

“N—not over much,” Alexia replied while testing her new equipment. They were weak and unfamiliar. The strange new muscles responded, but Tune had no idea on how to control them. As a result, the wings jerked in random directions, often slapping a shelf or pony as she tried to get them to obey. The one thing that frustrated her efforts was that they moved in tandem with each one mirroring the other’s movements. “Conrad. Did your wings act like this when you got them? I can’t get them to stop moving at the same time.” She whined in pain as both thumped against the floor with her fresh nerves still oversensitive.

“Well to be fair. I was a little too preoccupied with being tied to a chair or in a straitjacket to try. By the time I was free of it and met up with you I believe my wings were normalized, if not just unfamiliar.”

Crimson hummed at his explanation. “This growth wasn’t pleasant, if your screams were any indication. All of the other pegasi I’ve spoken with said they had little discomfort in their wing development.” A bigger concern was crowding her thoughts now that Alexia seemed to be in no danger. “Can you see if the twins are okay?”

All other ponies froze at the shared concern, but none were as mortified than Alexia. The silver mare tried to activate her Inner Sight, but she couldn’t center herself and her mana was still fluctuating too wildly to make the attempt. No matter how the desperate the mother-to-be tried, her nervous system was too busy trying to adjust itself to the new additions to her physiology to allow it. Her carbuncle was cycling and recycling the mana all throughout her body to facilitate the finishing touches for the Inner Sight to even begin.

Alexia was getting desperate. I need to know. I have to KNOW! “I can’t tell!” She wracked her brain for a solution; something that would keep the escalating terror of a miscarriage from shattering her barely holding together psyche. “Quick, I need something to draw with.”

“Would ketchup work?” Tune looked at the green mare who spoke. Loki was stuffing her maw with an MRE’s pound cake dessert with one hoof and holding out a ketchup packet with the other.

“Red ruins the maximum range, but that won’t matter.” Alexia proclaimed gratefully as she tried to take the packet in her magic. Tune’s mana was uncooperative at first, but her returning mental strength demanded her magic to obey. And so it did after the condiment flickered with an azure aura for several seconds before the aura around it and her horn stabilized and it was pulled through the air towards the silver pony.

Tune quickly stripped the plastic off and held the red liquid in her kinesis before directing it at the smooth concrete wall and drawing a small divination circle. Once it was done, she slammed a hoof on its edge and commanded her magic to comply. The wild mana heeded its master’s call and her vision of the closet shifted to the ceiling. All she could see was the room itself, as everything outside of it was a murky inky blackness. Yet that was not her concern, and she focused on the orange tinted pony shaped light that represented her. Unlike white chalk, the ketchup was marring the coloration, but she didn’t care. All she cared about were the two small, slightly different hued beacons of light that were nearly smothered in her own.

Alexia’s ears, head, and wings drooped in relief. “They’re okay. My change didn’t affect the twins.”

Loki was not as worried as the others had been and inspected Tune’s wings. “I would think so. You didn’t seem to explode with magic this time so I would assume your children would be perfectly isolated from this.”

Crimson did the same, but on Alexia’s other side. “True, but they still depend on her for oxygen and nutrient. This alteration may have halted that.” She leaned over to look Alexia in the eye. “Are you sure they’re okay?”

The mage had kept her hoof on the small array the entire time to glean what she could from her unborn foals. “Yes. Their lifesigns look as healthy as the rest of ours, albeit smaller than us of course.”

Tune let go of a shuddering breath and fell on her haunches with her wings splaying out around her and resting uncomfortably on her feather tips. Her forelegs closed around her abdomen and a single tear fell from her eyes. “I’m glad the're safe.” How many more close calls is it going to be before something harms them? She didn’t even want to contemplate a worse fate for fear of jinxing herself.

The herd gathered around behind her, with Conrad gently hugging her and the mares resting supportive hooves on Alexia. “So I guess this makes you a real princess then?”

Tune didn’t want to answer him. “I don’t know, and right now I don’t care.”

Before anyone could speak again, Fitzgerald pried the door open to find two winged ponies out of a group of four. With Alexia’s wings hanging half limp and extended almost fully out, it was the first thing he noticed about her. Rather than waste time asking for an explanation he acted for the sake of time. “Are you still sane?”

Alexia had next to no recollection of her transformation other than blinding pain. “I’d like to think I am. Unless I’m hallucinating that I have wings.” She tried to close them, and was rewarded with them dragging across the carpet which prompted her mates to help fold them into place.

“Close enough,” The president grunted. “We’re evacuating to the escape tunnels. Can you walk?” He noticed she was covered in sweat and a liberal amount of drying blood caking her fur at her wing shoulders and running down the sides of her barrel.

“I-I think so.” She found her strength was not as bad as it could have been and stood up while making it a conscious effort to keep her wings locked in their resting positions. She could feel her itineris system was nearly done calming down to a normal state, but was still in the process of saturating her wings with mana. Alexia was grateful that Thompson’s physical training regiment had given her the endurance to recover sufficiently from her transformation and she felt she could gallop if needed. The one thing that clawed at her the most was a gnawing hunger. She looked over at the pile of MREs that Loki had tossed aside in her search for a vegetarian meal and took three of them in her magic. “I’m as good as I’m going to be.”

“There is little time, move out.” The President faced Thompson who was still standing in the hallway and had not seen Alexia’s new look yet. “Lead the Director; I know you’ve already familiarized yourself with the route.”

“Yes sir. Follow me.” Without looking at the ponies, he looked down the side hallway and had the equines, four soldiers and Fitzgerald follow closely behind. The halls were rather bland in this section of the bunker. It was only meant for utility, and as such it was undecorated steel struts and concrete. Thompson clicked his radio as the group ran down the corridors. “Echo seven to Foxtrot actual. Is the path ahead clear?”

Stark looked to the three operators monitoring the cameras within the bunker. “Well?”

The lead operator responded with barely contained fear. “We’ve lost passages A through J, and the brown gas is starting to spread in sections three through five along with eight and ten. There is still a squad defending nine, and it’s the only way between here and the metro. But its currently under attack so I don’t know how long our men can keep it open.”

Stark nodded and pressed his headset’s mic boom to speak. “Its still under our control, but I can’t guarantee for how long. I’ll send what forces we still have to reinforce you.” He cut the transmission and pointed at the seven soldiers still in the room. “All of you. Go to section nine and keep it secure. After they’re through, fall back with the President into the metro.”

Everyone in the room knew what he meant. Not one of the operators let their fear of death keep them from manning their stations. The lone corporal and leading NCO snapped a solemn salute to the Commander. “Yes sir.”

As one, the men stormed out of the room to act as a rear guard for the president. When they were all gone, Stark noticed the gunfire was scant meters from the east door leading to the elevator, and the Mions’ constant push. “I’ll see every last one of you bastard die before you take our seat of government for us!” He stepped over to his command console and typed in several commands before hitting the large yellow button.

All of the doors leading to the command center were sealed shut as thick steal barriers slid out from the walls. All of the ventilation shafts were cut off in a similar manner. Seven one foot thick slabs of iron closed off the elevator shaft and effectively closed the bunker with an air tight seal. The only place still open to the outside was the path to the metro line.

A clipped computerized female voice played over the loudspeakers spread across the complex. “Warning. Facility lockdown initiated under Vincent protocol. Confirmation of command execution pending.”

Alexia was so badly winded that it was a wonder that she was able to keep pace with everyone. I think I really overestimated my ability to run. Why the hell did I think I could run right after becoming an… She didn’t want to think. Instead she focused on controlling her breathing as she sprinted with the group.

Sounds of battle echoed all through the corridors and the entourage ran into more than a few Mions who managed to slip past security points. The Director and the small collection of soldiers were able to dispatch those lesser Mions with ease. As they continued down the path, Crimson glanced at a sign that had an arrow pointing straight ahead and read “Sector 9”.

The lack of fighting here set Thompson further on edge and he held out a restraining hand as he hunkered down by the closed door. Two of the escorts moved up to flank the door while the rest assumed a rear guard position as more shouting and weapons’ fire resounded along the path they had just taken.

Thompson gave simple hand signals to the soldier across from him to wait three seconds before cracking the door open to see if it was still clear. He only got to the count of two before the lights cut out, leaving everyone in complete blackness.

Tension rose in the group before the red emergency lights cut on and the loud speakers rang. “Alert. Main power severed. Unable to connect to outside line. Backup generators inoperable. Battery emergency power engaged. Alert. Enemies of state attempting to gain access to the Command Center. Vincent protocol stage two initiating. All doors outside of Sector 9 are now under lockdown.” Thompson jumped back as a large metal plate slammed down in front of the door.

Fitzgerald was sweating bullets. Stage three will occur in five minutes, after that the air scrubbers will shut down and we’ll all suffocate. He knew there was no use in trying to pull the metal slab back up as it was magnetically sealed to the door on an isolated battery that will last a week.

Thompson tried to make out the President, who would have the most knowledge of the place, amidst the gloom. The roar of battle had almost ceased completely thanks to all of the now sealed exits from their current location. Everyone in the long red tinted corridor were tense, but were not at the point where fear would take over as most of them didn’t know what the Vincent protocol entailed. It didn’t help that the rotating orange warning lights scattered loosely along the ceiling was messing with everyone’s low light vision. The Director leaned in to whisper to the President. “Sir, is there any way to get this door open? A security bypass or power tools?”

“I’m afraid not son,” the old man sighed with fatalistic resignation. “It would take a wielder to get through that door and then the one normal door, before finally getting to the slab on the other side. By then we’ll be dead.”

Fitzgerald didn’t keep his voice down so as to not let the others hear him. He wanted to face death rather than lie to himself or his escorts about their fate. Thompson was not quite so ready to submit to death as his superior was. “Do you not have an override code?”

The commander in chief looked at him with bemusement. “Of course I do. But the only way to input it is from the command center. But even if the path back wasn’t blockaded, main power’s been cut. The mainframe is operating independently now and will continue to do so for a week until the batteries run out.”

“So we’re stuck here then?” The Director asked, wanting to get the final answer.

“Afraid so.” Fitzgerald glanced about the faces of his escorts. “You should find peace yourselves. Its rare to know when your death is coming, I suggest you all make the most of it.”

Loki scoffed. “Screw that, we've got magic!”