Time unspecified
　Ruins of the Castle of Two Sisters, Worldline XU-837

A glint of fear flashed through Nightmare’s eyes. If it hadn’t been for the alien guests in her room, she probably would’ve vaulted herself to the window.

Instead, she jumped up and ran to it, raising her head as high as possible in an attempt to see what was happening.

Fuse found herself standing up to take a look as well, while Kick-ass straight out took into the air, eying the outside and Nightmare suspiciously.

Everypony in the castle room stared at the morning sky through the window frame. At first, it seemed there was nothing wrong.

Yet, as minutes passed, Fuse eventually saw what Prism meant: Slowly, barely noticeable but very much real, the sunlight that radiated across the dome was withering.

“Care to explain?” Crepusca put a hint of questioning into her voice, expecting Nightmare to offer a plausible reply.

[To explain what, Crepusca? What’s going on over there?]

“The sun is setting. It’s only ninety minutes since we saw it rise,” Crepusca replied to Timelight with a hoof over her earphone.

[Everyone, please stay collected. This might just be a phenomenon caused by Nightmare Moon claiming control over celestial bodies, just like how the sun rose from the west. I’m reporting this to the Dots now. Use the Brake Brace if anything should feel out of place.]

“Though reasonable, I highly doubt we’ll need that precaution,” Speaker said pointing a hoof at Nightmare, who was leaning on the bay window. “You want to see this, Captain Crepusca.”

Nightmare seemed as if she had been gasping for air. As she put a hoof onto the window glass to support herself, everypony in the room heard a sharp intake of breath. She lowered her head, her hoof sliding down the window to cover her mouth as she backpedalled from it.

“It’s gone even lower…” she murmured, a breathless statement of a broken heart.

The ponies of Theta-14 looked on. Even Kick-ass was sensible enough to leave Nightmare alone.

A feeble noise, almost like the whining of a frightened critter, pricked Fuse’s ears. She turned her ears around and found in surprise where that noise came.

It was Nightmare Moon, whimpering.

No, not just a whimper. The alicorn turned around from the window to address the visitors, but her knees gave in before she could produce so much as a word.

Nightmare knelt in front of Theta-14, head and ears drooping low as she cried quietly. She didn’t have many tears, but they were dampening her pitch-black face, leaving trails of matted hair. Her coat of hair otherwise stood on their ends, betraying how helpless the monarch of eternal night must be feeling.

She was twice as tall as anypony but Crepusca in the squad, but right now in her moment of vulnerability, as Nightmare cowered into a crying fur ball, she seemed so small and powerless.

Fuse found herself no longer feeling intimidated by the presence of Nightmare in front of her. If anything, she felt sympathetic to the alicorn. She wanted to do something to comfort Nightmare like a proper family mare should, but was there anything she could do to help?

Next to Fuse, the smallest mare stood up and walked up to the largest. Doctor was cautious with each step, putting her hooves down as quietly as possible, until she was finally standing right before Nightmare.

She gingerly tried to reach out, before a shudder from Nightmare’s sniffle made her pull back, unresolved.

She reached into her saddlebag, searching around in it with a shuffle, pulling out a small phial with a dropper tip and putting it next to her hoof. She hesitated for a long moment before finally determined herself to reach out again.

Fuse widened her eyes, looked worriedly at Prism, and mouthed, “What now?” She readied her engines to pull Doctor back in case Nightmare lashed out.

Prism simply smiled back and mouthed to Fuse, “It’s going to be fine.”

Still, Fuse didn’t think it would be fine. She fretted on her spot, rubbing her hooves together in anxiety.

Prism grabbed her hoof with her own and looked into Fuse’s eyes. Her heterochromatic eyes were a pair of rhodonite and emerald, drawing Fuse into telepathising her without using a spell.

It was in this pair of enchanting eyes that Fuse saw the confidence in Prism. It was her trust in Crepusca’s decision and, even more, her trust in Doctor’s ability to detect pains in a pony.

Because of these, Fuse finally gave up her fear and nodded.

By then, Doctor had just touched Nightmare, landing a gentle hoof on her dark shoulder. The medic said nothing, simply accompanying Nightmare in her breakdown.

Nightmare was still crying in silence, her body shaking with each sniffle rippling through her. Crepusca and Speaker decided to draw a step forward at the same time before they shared a knowing glance. After the brief communication, Crepusca nodded slightly, and they both stopped in their track to watch over the exchange.

“Please…” whispered Nightmare between her sobs. “Just leave me be… I deserve no such kindness.”

Doctor didn’t budge, still laying her hoof on Nightmare’s shoulder in silence.

“Do not… Do not waste your time on me. You can just go…”

Fuse blinked in confusion. So Doctor is just standing there? What’s about the phial she pulled out?

Silence. “I deserve such pain… You… You don’t…”

Still, silence, and Nightmare argued no more. She just opted to lay down her head and allowed her tears to flow as Doctor touched her wither, patting her slowly.

After an elongated moment, Nightmare had eventually burned the initial shock and sadness out and her breaths slowed down. She looked up with blurry eyes to find Doctor wiping away the leftover of her tears from her cheeks.

“Why?”

Doctor turned her eyes up to meet the draconic ones and pushed the phial to Nightmare. “Because I’ve sworn to help all those in pain, no matter who they might be,” answered she with gentle resolution as she spun the tip open. “Take two drops of this. You must’ve strained your voice box and unless you take care of yourself, you might feel horrible waking up tomorrow.”

Nightmare tried to rise to standing. “No… I need no remedies… I have bedamned myself to such suffering, so I have to endure it.”

“Nonsense.” criticised Doctor, pushing the bigger mare down by the wither. “No one ‘has to’ suffer anything; that’s just a case of maladaptive coping. Please take the doctor’s advice, sit down, and let yourself rest a bit after the emotions while you savour this bitter medicine.” She pushed the phial closer to Nightmare this time.

Nightmare sighed.

Then, she nodded slowly.

As it turned out, Doctor meant it literally when she said “bitter medicine.” Nightmare grimaced the moment the drops of potion touched her tongue and downed all the water in her kettle without the grace to use her cup.

Nightmare stood her kettle on her bedside table, rubbed her eyes and mouth, and turned around.

“Now, do you feel better to tell your story?” Crepusca smiled at Nightmare, genuinely happy for her to recover from the damage. It wasn’t obvious, but she could tell Nightmare was feeling better.

Nightmare looked out the window. The sky had gone darker, the sun almost sinking below the mountains. “Yes… This should better start from the beginning, I would assume.” She closed her eyes in concentration, spreading her wings out, before lighting up her horn.

When she opened her eyes, bright rays of pure white emanated from them. Deep blue magic spiralled and circled by her feathertips and weaved in front of her and Theta-14 into a holographic display of her recall: a sphere of continents and oceans.

The visitors immediately recognised the planet of Equus and the pale, lonely Moon that orbited it.

“I take it you know how I gave myself into jealousy and hatred and became what I am today,” came Nightmare’s voice. The way she told her story was apathetic, almost like an impersonal narrator of every story. “Trapped and lost on the Moon, I had spent a millennial before finally breaking free of shackles on the one thousandth summer solstice.”

The projection zoomed in onto the greatest continent and started to make out details: The sky-high ranges of mountains, the fertile fields of grass, the ancient city of Canterlot, and the serene town that was Ponyville. Finally, the view stopped above the Everfree Forest, and Fuse noted how the trees in the forest had been way denser than they had just seen.

Prism watched the recount magic with utter attention, mana coursing through her horn.

Is she sensing the magic Nightmare is using just in case? Or, is she simply trying to copy this neat trick for later use? pondered Fuse, cracking a smile at the silly question.

Six familiar ponies showed up in a clearing surrounded by giant trees. “These were the Element Bearers, or who would’ve been…” Nightmare’s voice took a grave turn, dragging Fuse with it down, down. “To them, I was but a villain that must be defeated, and I truly was. They were on their way to locate the Elements of Harmony. I must have been defeated, and perhaps given a second life by the Elements where you came, haven’t I?”

Fuse nodded her answer. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Prism and Crepusca nodding as well.

“That, however, was not the case in my world.” — The replay followed the young mares to the nearly bottomless gorge, where the rope bridge hung broken by the cliff. Fuse saw the pegasus with prismatic colours in her mane grab the end of the bridge and fly across.

Rainbow Dash flew across the valley and landed on the coarse floor of gravel. She shifted the rope in her mouth, bit down even harder, and set out for the bridge posts.

“Rainbow…”

“Who- who’s there?” Rainbow gulped hard.

“Rainbow…”

“I ain’t scared of you! Sh- show yourself, or else!” threatened Rainbow, sounding not so sure about herself.

“We’ve been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the best flyer in Equestria,” said a soothing, feminine voice from within the smokes and mists.

Rainbow widened her eyes. “Are you… talking about…”

“Why, you, of course,” came the answer.

“Really? I mean… Yeah, me.” She hesitated a little bit before looking around to find her apparent admirer. “Hey, uh, you wouldn’t mind telling the Wonderbolts that, would ya? ‘Cause I’ve been —”

“Oh, no, Rainbow Dash. We want you to join us, the Shadowbolts.” Three pegasi, dressed in sharply contrasted purple and yellow on well-defined muscles, stepped from the smoke. “We’re the greatest aerial team in the Everfree Forest, and all that’s stopping us from becoming the greatest of Equestria is a competent captain. A captain only the most magnificent…”

“Yep?”

“Swiftest…”

“That’s me.”

“Bravest flyer in Equestria can be up to, and the captain…”

“The captain…” echoed Rainbow, her eyes shimmering.

“Shall be you.”

Rainbow couldn’t believe she was hearing this. She had always known her dream of the sky would one day come true, but this early in her life? Woah! “FOR REAL?! Ahem, I mean, sure, just lemme tie some ropes real quick and I’ll go with you.” She turned around and reached for the post —

“No! Make your choice: Join now, or never!” The Shadowbolts made it imperative.

Rainbow dropped the rope. She looked back at the Shadowbolts, who were standing right behind her, then to her friends, hidden in the heavy haze.

“Rainbow, what’s taking you so long? Are you still there?” came Twilight’s impatient voice, as she’d always been since Rainbow had first seen her.

Rainbow turned back to face the Shadowbolts. “Sure, I would like to join…”

The Shadowbolts looked like they would start to preen when she finished that sentence.

“… But not if you make me break a promise on my first day. I’m sorry.” Rainbow sighed heavily, reluctant to let go of a chance to fame. She made the right choice, did she?

Anyway, she turned around again, this time picking the rope up and tying it faster than the pegasi could react and took into the air. “Hope I’ll make the cut next time, bye.”

“It’s already too late. You’ve said the magic word.” The mare in the middle suddenly cackled. The three Shadowbolts erupted into wispy threads of magic and lunged out, coiling around Rainbow.

The cyan pegasus fell to the ground, darkly coloured spandex forming over her coat, covering her body tightly.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on!” interrupted Kick-ass, waving her hooves frantically. “What’s the meaning of this? Why’s Rainbow like that?! WHAT the buck did you do, you witch?!”

“The Shadowbolts were a manifestation of my magic.” In the flurry of interrogation and insults thrown at her, Nightmare simply closed her eyes in shame and weathered all of them. “I was corrupted by the anger and envy I held towards my sister, and at that moment, they got the better of me, and I…”

A ribbon of dark magic broke from what was constraining Rainbow and forced itself into her ears. Rainbow’s eyes slowly lit up violet.

“And I forced her into submission, serving me against her will.”

Kick-ass was taken aback by the scene, struck beyond words. Crepusca looked like she had been expecting this, and lowered her eyes upon seeing what had happened.

Without me… Without Rainbow… Fuse didn’t dare to imagine what would happen afterwards. She felt her wings fidgeting beneath the engine shells as the implication haunted her. Prism was standing behind her, so she could only guess how terrified the unicorn must be, seeing such fate descending on her counterpart.

“Without Rainbow Dash, the five of them couldn’t have activated the Elements, have they?” inferred Crepusca.

“No, they haven’t.”

The projection expedited to the confrontation in the old castle they were in now, but what was happening was vastly different from how Fuse remembered it.

“You have lost,” declared Captain Rainbow Dash of the Wonderbolts, holding Fluttershy hostage and having knocked down every other mare she had once called ‘friends.’ She whispered coldly into Fluttershy’s ear as she held her tight with one foreleg locking her neck. All that showed her true feelings was the eyes welling up under yellow-tinted goggles.

She lifted her other forehoof, gave an evil laugh, and smote down hard. Fluttershy went out cold in one go, gasping for breath.

Fuse averted her eyes, no longer having the courage to follow what happened next. A tinnitus screaming in her ears louder than the coldest snowstorm that could annihilate even the strongest flyer. Fluttershy, Fluttershy, the soft and considerate pegasus who wouldn’t hurt a life even to save her own. Yet, she was betrayed and hurt by Rainbow Dash… who was under the control of Nightmare Moon. A peppery taste of malice entered her mind, as she felt the impulse to destroy somepony for the first time in twenty years.

Doctor’s wing patted Fuse on her back, breaking her out from the spiteful trance. If her throat hadn’t been so choked up, she would say something vicious, but all she could do was feel the tears cooling down in her eyes. I… can’t… lose my cool… Just like Big Mac always said… ‘No use doing somethin’ ya’ll regret.’

She screwed her eyes shut, took a long, deep breath, and held it for a moment, before letting it out. Blood had been rushing through her veins and was slowing down. Fire had been burning at the back of her head and was fizzling out. The ringing in her ears faded and she heard Nightmare’s voice coming again:

“… In the intoxicating illusion of triumph, I neglected the fact that eternal night only leads to eternal death. When I came to learn it the hard way, it was already too late; the sun deserted me, like how I had deserted her.”

Fuse blinked away the tears in her eyes to look at the projection. Green fields of crops and the once prosperous apple farm died away in waiting for a sunrise, giving room to colonies of weeds claiming the land, before they, too, died off. Nightmare Moon stood on a balcony of Canterlot Castle, a look of surprise and outrage on her face. No matter how hard she summoned with the overpowering magic through her horn, all she could manage was to bring a sliver of sunlight from below the horizon.

“I realised that the Sun would not heed my call and none shall replace its nourishment to the world, but there was nothing I could do. I stood gloriously as the sole monarch of Equestria and lands beyond, but… at what cost?” Words stuck like a lump in Nightmare’s throat as gritted her teeth in the pain of memory.

In the projection, hunger turned into starvation, which quickly devolved into despair. Displaced ponies crowded the front gate of the Castle, numb from malnutrition and hopelessness. Fuse could almost hear the voiceless wails and prayers, as she saw them fall to the ground one by one.

“My own blemish stained this world with destruction… Only me and Rainbow Dash, who was still under my control, survived.” Nightmare looked up to the ceiling, trying hard not to break into tears again.

“No need to rush yourself. You may stop if you’re feeling unwell,” Crepusca tried to comfort her.

Fuse felt a sense of irony as she looked at Nightmare’s distress. As much as she freaks us out, she is also disturbed to have us listening to what she’s done. She couldn’t tell which was worse to Nightmare now: To eradicate ponykind in blind hatred, or to come to sense afterwards and have to testify to her own crime?

Nightmare let out a shaky breath, her entire body shaking with it.

“Then I… I decided I had to let go of her. What I didn’t know was that my mind-controlling left her with full recollection of the downfall…”

“You… remember everything?” asked Nightmare timidly, paling at the implication.

“That I do,” replied Rainbow, “and that includes every moment I felt my soul crying for me to fight back, to break free, to save everypony before it was too late, but I just wasn’t strong enough, was I?” Somehow, she managed to keep a flat tone, despite drenched with justified venom.

“Then I have committed yet another crime I didn’t realise,” declared Nightmare as she held her head low. “I… surrender my life to you, Rainbow Dash. I know it will not erase what I’ve done to you, but it’s the only thing I have to forfeit.”

“Who said anything about killing you?” said Rainbow, staring at Nightmare as if she had said something unreasonable. She shook her head. “You have to stay alive. That’s the only thing I’ll ask from you in revenge for what you’ve done.”

“Wha- Why?!” Nightmare snapped her head up, confusion in her eyes. Her mane was no longer drifting, not with how depraved of harmonic magic this land was. “I’ve committed the greatest crime equinely possible. I deserve anything you could do to me. It’s not a trap, trust me —”

Rainbow interrupted, “You know, I’ve had a horrible lot of time to look and think after I found it was no use struggling. I saw how you changed from a hateful hag into an actual living mare, a creature capable of sympathising. I was there when you cried about the ponies’ death and for how you couldn’t release Celestia from the sun.

“Killing you? I doubt it’ll bring anypony back. Plus, you don’t deserve death. That’s too cheap for ya.” Rainbow took a step closer. “You’re already punishing yourself by becoming a good pony too late, aren’t you? If I wanted revenge, the best way I can do it is for you to live with the guilt forever.”

“You mean… you don’t want vengeance?” Nightmare dared to ask.

“No!” Rainbow raised her voice, snapping at Nightmare. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. You still look like the Nightmare Moon who made me hurt my friends and eventually kill them with the eternal night, but you don’t feel like her. I… I can’t live with the guilt for long, but I doubt you’ll ever control me to not care.”

After a long pause, Rainbow sighed hard. “You know what, Nightmare? I have just the idea of how to punish you.”

“Pr- pray tell, what may that be?” Nightmare dreaded the judgment, but she had to take whatever was decided by the only pony left to verdict her.

“I’m sorry,” began Rainbow, surprising Nightmare by much, “for what is going to happen to you, but I’m giving you a sentence of life. Of. Eternal. Life. In which you have to live on with the guilt and learn to grow out of it. You have infinite time, Nightmare, so if there’s any chance somepony can bring Equestria back, you might be the one to do so.”

“Certainly.” Nightmare nodded heavily, accepting the fate. “I promise not to end myself, as it has already been conceded to you.”

Rainbow Dash gave her a weak smile. “It’s weird, so bucking weird, to wake up and realise the world I knew has ended. Guess what’s even weirder? I still hate you for everything, but I want to wish you good luck.” She turned around and spread her wings, aiming for the opened window.

“Where are you heading to?” asked Nightmare, standing up. “Will I ever see you again?”

“Better not,” said Rainbow as she took flight.

“Actually, you know what? No, I’m counting on never seeing you where I’ll be going.”

At that, Rainbow flew out into the night sky, giving everything she had for the dome she had once loved so passionately. Up, up she flew, until her eyes watered in the bone-chilling wind and her wings gave up in the thin air.

Then she dove, directly towards the land she had loved as much as the sky. Pushed by gravity and her own wings still in their prime, she tossed herself to what had been her home.

A thunderous crack pierced the darkness, as the resulting Rainboom lit the world up in a deafening explosion, casting its beautiful light for the last time on the entirety of Canterlot as well as the serene earth pony town below.

But breaking through the sound barrier didn’t stop Rainbow Dash.

She marched on towards the vast plains and painted herself into a brightly red blossom that spread across a hundred of her body length.

She crashed perfectly right in front of Nightmare Moon, who was one step too late to intercept. The last pony in Equestria dropped to the ground at the surreal scene of Sonic Rainboom and began to vomit and scream.

As if shouting out her very soul.

The story shocked Fuse more than she had thought it would and left her listening to herself hyperventilating as the gory ending replayed in her head. So I’m dead in this world… No surprise, considering… But that’s a Rainboom, how did… I guess she was… And why would she end it in such… Ugh, this is getting nowhere… The sudden, almost ridiculous way her counterpart ended everything was a challenge to her sanity. Yet, the more she contemplated on this, the more she found herself resonating with this Rainbow Dash. When everything you hold dear is beyond salvation and the only thing left is your own life, you might as well spend it on a megalomaniac attempt to exit yourself and etch the regrets onto the grand stage that is life.

“… May I learn what came afterwards?” asked Speaker in a voice held together by sheer willpower, as she took the conversation over for Crepusca who was struck into silence from the story.

“Then, I tried to figure myself out, or at the very least, how to raise the Sun properly without sister, but you can see I managed neither.” The dark alicorn gestured to herself, then to the outside. “I no longer feel Nightmare Moon, but this shape given by pure hate isn’t something easily shed, as isn’t the name.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” tried Speaker. “What you are shouldn’t dictate who you are, or you wouldn’t have hesitated in mutilating us, would you?”

“You do have a point, but that just leaves me unnamed, as I’m no Luna, either.” She looked over to the twilight outside and continued, “That am I, a shadow from between the moonlight and the penumbra, forever trapped in the middle ground, just like how I do with the Sun. The highest I could manage was as high as early morning, and now it’s even worse. I suppose these are the evidence to my crimes, like how an ancient lord might tattoo a guilty mare.”

Speaker opened her mouth to argue, but it was obvious there was no point trying to convince the alicorn. Instead, she aimed for a different angle: “How long have you been living like this?”

“Nine years,” answered she with a tiny sigh, which contained such great repent that others could only attempt to imagine. “I spent the better half of these nine years travelling Equestria, burying every victim I came across and confessing to them my guilt. It was a responsibility I had to bear. Only recently have I traversed every last town and village and returned to Ponyville.”

“That’s,” commented Crepusca, “something to begin with, and it speaks of your changing for the better.”

The dark alicorn ignored her comment, though. “I’ve lived in the secluded retreat of this castle ever since, for I couldn’t stand the scenery of Canterlot anymore. It only serves as a reminder of my crime of usurpation.”

“Speaking of which, what’s stopping you from getting Princess Celestia out from the Sun?” asked Kick-ass, crossing her forelegs.

The alicorn turned to her, a look in her eyes that even a mare as blunt as Kick-ass felt sorry. “I can’t say for certain. It might be that the Sun is rejecting me for bringing darkness to the land, just as how it rejects my invocations. However, it’s just as probable that I’m the one rejecting it, out of fearing what sister will say or do when she comes back.”

Crepusca walked up to the mare and looked into her eyes. “She is your sister, despite everything you’ve done. She will be disappointed and she might take an eternity to forgive you, but if you don’t try, that eternity is never going to come.”

“I don’t even know if I deserve calling myself her sister anymore,” replied the nameless mare. “One day, maybe one day, I will do everything I can to hear her ruling my crimes… But not now, not when I haven’t done anything to amend them.”

There was a moment of silence.

Crepusca broke it with, “Timelight, the assessment of risk is completed. I want you to cancel the caution we’ve sent.” Then, she spread her wings and did what surprised both the mare in front of her and those behind.

She pulled the mare into her forelegs and hugged her with her broad, feathery wings. “I understand how much pain you must feel, living with such guilt,” she whispered in her ears. “What hurts most isn’t the wrongdoing, but the realisation that arrives suddenly and destroys your confidence.”

“It… does hurt,” admitted the mare, her voice wavering.

“Yet, it’s necessary for us to grow out of it, to never make the same mistake ever again,” continued Crepusca. “We don’t belong to this world and can’t stay here forever, probably not even another ten minutes, but you’re welcomed at the Pale Tower, where everypony will accept your past as long as you want peace now. That’s why the Pale Tower exists; to seek out a future with more love for everypony.”

The mare slowly looked up at her, a weak smile on her face. “I thank you for the kindness, but I cannot just leave everything behind and hope to escape the sin. I… have to stay and do it my way.”

“We have counsellors who are more than willing to visit and help you reconcile with yourself. You won’t be the first pony to have done horrible things, and what is important is that we look forwards.” Crepusca let go of the mare and put on a more serious look. “In the infinity of multiverse, even the greatest crime can be made up for, with sufficient efforts and a heart in the right place. Will you try to forgive yourself, Luna?”

A spark lit up in ‘Luna’‘s eyes for a brief moment, before dimming down. “No, I need to decline that as well.” She lowered her head. “I have to walk out from the labyrinth on my own, and if I can’t do it, I must deserve the everlasting wandering in angst.”

“Then, we respect that.” Crepusca sighed and turned to look at the members of her squad, who had been listening to the exchange quietly.

Fuse seemed entangled in thoughts and emotions, Doctor was lamenting over the declined help, and Prism was trying to appear stoic and cool. The three were less experienced with the multiverse, but their sentiments weren’t a curse for first-contact operators.

Kick-ass chewed on her lips, apparently upset to reach a mixed ending in the operation, while Speaker was calm, or at least doing great containing what was on her mind.

Guess that’s it.

Crepusca looked up at the sky, where a smokey violet of twilight was spreading. “We’ll be leaving soon. I hope to see you there one day.”

The Luna in black stared at Crepusca’s back. “Your story, it wasn’t finished, was it?”

“You’ll find out when we meet again,” Crepusca replied, turning back with a sly smile. “That’s a promise.”

Luna didn’t answer that, instead asking after a pause, “Can I have a codename, just as you all have?”

“Sure. What do you want it to be?”

“I’m… Gravekeeper, if you’ll accept it,” said the mare.

Crepusca nodded. “We will, and I’m going to put that into the archive the first thing we return.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

Crepusca gave her a look. “I’m no princess or queen at the Pale Tower. Don’t address me like that, please.”

Gravekeeper nodded understandingly. “So… Until we meet again, Squad Theta-Fourteen from the Pale Tower. May your path be guided by the brightest star.”

Crepusca simply spread her wings, snapped them shut, and turned around for the door.

“That concludes the first contact operation with Worldline XU-Eight-Thirty-Seven. There is no need for the formality of diplomacy, so minimum follow-up is sufficient.” She waited until Timelight typed that in the report before continuing, “We’ve assigned the local resident, codenamed ‘Gravekeeper,’ as the contact here.”

[… kee… per… Right, done. That’s all, right?] asked Timelight through the earphones.

“For now, yes. We’re returning to the portal site,” replied Crepusca, before heading towards the door, followed by the others. The faint scent of mould greeted them as Crepusca opened the door, noticed Fuse only now that she wasn’t worrying as much as when they had arrived.

Gravekeeper escorted the squad out and stood by the bridge to see them off until the layers of foliage concealed Theta-14 from sight. Suddenly, she felt an impulse to fly, to give chase, to join them as they leave, but soon held the mood back.

She still had much, much debt to pay, after all.

So instead, she opened her mouth, wanting to shout something for them to hear.

But in the end, all that came was a mumble:

“Thank you…”

She stood there in the wrong evening for a long moment, gazing at the looming forest across, before turning back for where she rested at night.

The visit from beyond the universe had pulled her out from the quagmire of self-destruction, more so than the visitors themselves may have realised. Gravekeeper, or Luna if she might call herself that, looked into the last wisp of sunlight for the day, lingering above the mountains. For the first time in a thousand years, it was beautiful.

Perhaps, just perhaps, one day she would stare at her crimes in the eyes and bring Celestia, her dearest, misunderstood sister, back. She would resign herself to receive the rightful punishment from the rightful ruler of Equestria and ask for nothing in return.

However, before that, she had to first bring back the Equestria that she had taken away from Celestia. There might be a way for ponies to walk on this land again, or there might not be, but she had all the time in the world. Celestia had waited for a thousand years for her sister to return, so what if it was going to take her an aeon?

She knew she would stand in front of Equestria one day. She knew she will.

Preoccupied with thoughts, what Gravekeeper didn’t realise was the Sun stopping in its descend just beneath the horizon and lurked around for the east end of the sky.

　PM 12:09, Sunday, Week 138
　Department of First Contact, Timefold, Worldline O1-02

Back in the room with that strong scent of coffee, ponies of Theta-14 scattered around.

“There, I’ve uploaded the operation report, and now for the conclusion,” Timelight finally got to lean into her chair after opening the file that just arrived on the screen, “XU-Eight-Thirty-Seven has been reclassified to Deviated class, numbered D-Six-Thirty-One. The local contact is D-Six-Thirty-One-Zero-One, ‘Gravekeeper’, and only minimum future contact is expected. There is a Level Frost caution to any visitor, and we are dismissed for today.”

A long, distressed breath escaped Fuse after hearing that last line. It might as well have been a chanted spell. She found herself lying down on the cushion she claimed, all strength drained from her limbs.

Timelight looked over with worry on her face. “Are you alright, Fuse?” she asked.

“Yeah, don’t ya worry,” replied Fuse, rolling onto her belly to sit up. “It just took way more out of me than what Ah expected.”

“I see, so was it too much?” Timelight didn’t let go easily, pursuing as she collected her files. “It was a long day over there, after all.”

“More like a long night,” commented Prism, leaning onto Doctor for some snuggles, which were denied to her as the latter busied herself checklisting her medicine stock, “but, yeah, usually it doesn’t get this intense.”

“Plus, we are probably slacking off after how easily we got off the hooks last time,” nodded Doctor, piecing in her opinion. “Don’t get discouraged, Fuse; a relaxed attitude helps you more than often out there.”

“Easy? Excuse me?” Kick-ass raised an eyebrow, hovering overhead. “Weren’t you all there when Speaker and I defused the Everfree Murder situation?”

“Speaker did that. All you did was flying around Ponyville and badgering that poor dude,” deadpanned Prism.

“— Who happened to be the vital witness they needed! See, I helped!” Kick-ass argued. “I don’t care what you think, but that last operation definitely was not easy.”

Prism rolled her eyes. “Sure, fine, I’ll give you that, but at least there were ponies everywhere last time. This time all we’ve come across was Miss Nightm-”

“Gravekeeper,” interrupted Crepusca. “She chose that codename herself.”

“Yeah, sorry,” apologised Prism, rubbing her head. “Uh, we’ve only come across Gravekeeper, and everypony else was gone. Isn’t that mentally taxing?”

“Meh, you have a point,” conceded Kick-ass, waving a hoof nonchalantly. “Yep, I’m tired out as well, and my shift count at the weather team is falling behind, so what do you all say, we take a longer interval this time?”

“The stress left over from a depopulated world should’ve exceeded the threshold. The Dots and Docks would approve,” agreed Speaker, looking up from her reading. “Then, as per Guiding Lines to Psychological Health, I suggest an extension of the upcoming interval into a week.”

“Seconded.” “I second that.”

The two Twilights exchanged a glance at the coincided answer. “Then, if there are no more matters coming up, we can just leave any time now,” declared Timelight. “Remember, next operation on Monday on Week Hundred-and-Forty, unless otherwise informed.”

“Alright!” shouted Kick-ass, pumping her hoof before literally slamming open the door, leaving the others in the dust.

Fuse stood up. Is it over? Has it been done…? Three hours of running around behind her squadmates, as well as the nonstop shocks from the multiverse, had numbed her mind so much that, for a moment, she was too confused to move her legs.

“Why don’t you come with Loo and me?” invited Prism, suddenly standing right next to Fuse, with Doctor by her side. “Treat’s on me today. Have you ever been to the Central Food Plaza nearby? They make some wonderful stew!” She offered a hoof, which Fuse took in a trance.

It was then Fuse nodded in late consciousness. The two Rainbows and a Scootaloo walked from the room after leaving everything in the lockers, except for Fuse’s engine, of course.

After the others had left, Timelight, Crepusca, and Speaker waited until they should’ve gone far enough before opening up. Timelight turned off the differentiator, whose screen went out gradually, and turned to Crepusca. “You had something to say. What is it?” she asked in a quiet tone.

“Your reactions towards things around Prism had been overstepping, and it’s getting worse with Fuse now,” accused Crepusca, walking up to the console desk. “How do you defend yourself?”

“I believe what I did today can be seen as moving to orientate the newest addition in our squad.”

“So you admit it’s ‘can be seen as,’ not ‘exactly is.’ Is that how I should understand it?” Crepusca held onto the usage of words in the tactician’s reply.

Timelight was shut.

Crepusca took that as permission to nudge her more: “You can’t interfere with where they’re headed just because they are cyan mares with rainbow for mane,” she asserted with a tone that would not be defied. “They’re not her and you know it. An on-site advisor needs to be a strategist and scholar with the will of steel when her squadmates are away by many universes.”

“Captain Crepusca, please,” Speaker chimed in, putting her book down, “be easy with Advisor Timelight. It takes time to heal and she clearly needs more.”

Crepusca lowered her eyes and sighed. softening her tone as she replied, “I know… but, try to rein yourself, will you? Most Rainbows can be quite stubborn and proud of themselves and your doting on Prism and Fuse would only push them down the wrong paths. Did you know Fuse thought you were sarcastic when you commended on her observation in the forest?”

Timelight’s ears drooped. “I… I didn’t.”

“Then you know now.” Crepusca walked closer to lay a lavender hoof on an equally lavender shoulder. “I know I can’t expect anypony to change overnight, but at least promise that you’ll contain your feelings in future operations, not just for them, but also for Squad Theta-Fourteen. Will you promise?”

“I won’t make a promise I can’t keep, sorry,” said Timelight, a look of grief staining her face. “However, I acknowledge your understanding and appreciate it. I promise you that I will try my best to hold back. Will you take that?”

Crepusca just gave her a noncommittal snort. “I will if you will.”

She unclipped herself from her gears and hung them carefully in her locker before closing with a thud. Then, she stretched her wings for a bit and left.

Speaker looked at the still swinging door with creased eyebrows until it eventually ceased. She took up the stray pieces on the table and carefully inserted them back into the book, one-by-one, before slotting the book into a case, which had a large letter engraved on it.

“Until next time, Advisor Timelight?” she bid Timelight goodbye with respect, put the book into her locker with the rest of her collection, and put on a violet padlock.

“Mm, see you.” Timelight fixed her eyes on the screen that was now pitch black.

Speaker nodded to nopony and left the room, closing the door behind her with care.

Timelight stayed behind in silence, facing her desk. She laid her head down on the tabletop and closed her eyes.

For about ten minutes, nothing came from the briefing room of Theta-14.

Then, the light went out, before the door was opened, closed, and locked.