//------------------------------// // 19. Alive // Story: Metroid: Ghosts of Harmony // by Flammenwerfer //------------------------------// Samus jolted awake, sitting up ramrod as she fought to get a sudden bearing on her surroundings. Breathing heavily, she jerked her gaze around, whipping her hair sharply with wide eyes when she realized she was no longer battling the Tantabus’ physical form in the Ascendance Chamber. She felt the remnants of a sandy warmth on her cheek where she had ostensibly fallen on her face, and the rush of equally warm, desert winds breaking upon her. She then leaned back into her hands, feeling the distinctly sandy, rocky ground that reminded her eerily so of Zebes. And as she drank in more and more of her surroundings, a sudden, hair-straightening realization dawned on her: it was Zebes. It looked and smelled of Zebes. She anxiously peered around, and could make out all the craggy canyon rocks, mountains, and general landscape so reminiscent of her second home. Though… Hmmm…? …It seemed oddly vague, as if there was a fog of inadequate draw distance beyond a certain point that she couldn’t really attribute to heat dissipation off the scorched desert rocks and sands. Almost like it was a game of sorts. Or perhaps, a dream. Attention rapt, Samus leaned forward and lay her forearm on one of her knees. She knew this was a dream. Her memories of her battle not a moment previously were still fresh on her mind, but likewise fresh out of the oven of her mind was how visceral everything felt right now. She was no stranger to vivid dreams like she had the previous evening, but this was the most tangible, lucid dream—if one could even call it that—that she’d ever experienced. The smells.  The feels.  The sounds. Despite the limitations of a lucid dream, it all seemed oddly perfect and quaint. That was also about the time she realized her forehead was damp. That was only somewhat expected because she knew she wasn’t wearing her Varia Suit anymore. Her arms, curiously, were much warmer than she would have come to expect them, even in this environment… assuming her Zero Suit’s rudimentary cooling abilities were functioning. They weren’t, because she wasn’t wearing that, either. Further examination of herself led to the discovery of her being clad in a set of familiar, if basic training clothes from her childhood days. Her arms, most of her legs, and a couple-inch, uneven sliver of her midriff were bare to the elements around her. Even more curiously, they fit her current frame perfectly. She never once owned a set of tailored, Chozo training clothes that had fit anything but her early mid-teens form, which would’ve looked comically undersized on her. “Mkay then…” she spoke aloud, noting how her voice seemed to offer back the subtlest of echoes. “Twi?” she called out, further gazing around her desert home. “Rarity? Flutters?” No reply, which she somewhat expected. She didn’t exactly anticipate them following her into a controlled dream state. She did remember that Twilight was monitoring her somewhat. “Keep me alive, Twilight. While I figure this out at least… maybe…” her out-loud thoughts tapered off. Samus stood up, feeling—and watching—her bare feet sink softly into the warm sand underneath her weight. “Zebes. But where am I exactly?” She squinted her eyes to see as best she could through the vague veil in the far distance all around her. She couldn’t make out Chozodia anywhere, nor any of the other minor outposts and training installations that she was familiar with. No other landmarks that she had known by heart since she was a late toddler stood out to her, either. And yet, as she crossed her arms and retreated deeper into her thoughts, Samus knew that something about the barren, sandy plane she currently occupied seemed oddly familiar. She could pick out a few shattered ruins that looked correct, but despite passing familiarity, she couldn’t rightly place why she felt that way. Perhaps it was the consequence of her being in a dream, along with all its subtle imperfections adding up. Or maybe it was as a result of being kept anchored wherever she was based on magical trickery Twilight was employing, along with the Tantabus’ machinations. Samus took a couple steps in either direction, just to test the figurative waters and see if anything drastically changed in her dreamscape. Nothing. Even the sand felt the same, as she would’ve expected it to, as did the continued, ambient sound of the whipping desert winds and sand particles bouncing off her face. “Wonder if you girls can see this play out,” she mused in between scouting which way she should start walking to get things underway.  “Like a crystal ball or… a fish tank… maybe? Guess we’ll find out when this is all over.” “Well, this is a most interesting surprise.” The foreign voice cut through the silent atmosphere like a superheated knife through room-temperature butter… a knife extra sharpened by the fact that the sudden voice was, in fact, very familiar to her.  It was a voice that emanated from just a few feet behind her, rather than an omnipresent one like Twilight’s was in her head. She knew good and well that she had just faced that way, too… and there was nothing that could have possibly been the source, at that time. Even so, it was instantly recognizable without any shred of doubt. More than that, Samus’ entire body went stiff, ridden with goosebumps when she suddenly sensed a distinct presence behind her in kind. The older, smooth, paternal voice continued from above and behind her: “I did not expect you for some time.” Samus whipped around to find exactly whom she expected: an older Chozo, just as she remembered him: dark-gray, feathered face garbed in one of his drab cloaks, under which, despite his age, was the stature and musculature of a Thoha warrior long past his prime. Just as he had always coolly presented himself, his hands were neatly folded in front of his torso… though where once, even in childhood, she’d look up to him and find mild contempt and stoicism, she was struck on how instead she found abject curiosity. Pleasantness as well, but confusion nonetheless. And the lack of any scathing edge to his words in conjunction with his softer expression was proof enough that he was somewhat happy to see her… or what she remembered passing for ‘happiness’ from the colder of her adoptive parents. For the briefest of moments, Samus wondered if this was actually entirely a dream. Maybe, standing in front of her, was a made up version courtesy of her own imagination rather than him choosing to appear before her in a method of his choosing in the past. Still, she softly replied in equal measure of disbelief. There really was only one way to find out: “Gray Voice…?” She tentatively began to walk over to him, and Samus consciously made sure that she could still feel her surroundings. The wind still whipped sand into her face and threw her hair behind her. Her feet were still warm, nestled by the Zebesian sand that she had sprinted through countless times as a child. Everything still felt real enough to her. He offered a shallow, affirmative nod. She kept the conversation going, further probing with a rather trademark, rebellious attitude that she had always had with him: “And what’s that supposed to mean, hmm? What the hell do you mean I’m early and over-punctual?” she said, smirking. By the time the last of her words left her mouth, she stood tall in front of him, though despite her age since the last time she saw him, even as a vision, she still needed to look up into his faded gold eyes, over his beak. Still, definitely not as much as she remembered. He still hadn’t said anything as he appeared to be verifying what he was seeing in kind, and Samus was all too happy to fill in the conversational void with some sardonic wit: “That’s how you greet me after all this time? It’s been a while, Gray. Well, since I saw you when I was last on Zebes when you decided to be oh so helpful during my Zero Mission.” Samus was riposted with something she had rarely seen Gray Voice do: He smiled. “You’ve indeed grown much since I last saw you, my child,” he finally said. “Don’t think I have not kept up with your trials since we last spoke: your work on Tallon IV and with our Luminoth brothers in their hour of need has been nothing short of magnificent.  “I, and the others who still trek just beyond the mortal realm extend our greatest thanks.” By the time Gray had fully said what he did, Samus had already truly realized that this wasn’t just a dream. It truly was Gray Voice’s projection in front of her, much as he had appeared to her in the past. Even if she had no physical proof, her intuition and the way that he spoke those words on her most recent past further put her at ease. Her stance and posture relaxed by the time silence had returned between them. She smiled softly, and after not seeing him since her Zero Mission, she opted to close the remaining distance and properly throw her arms around his midsection. All remaining, infantesimal doubt that this was just some dream trickery was thrown out the window when she could feel a familiar warmth against her chest when she hugged him. That dopey smile spread further across her face as she hummed softly, nestling herself further into him and tightening her hold around one of her adoptive parents. She giggled though, when she could feel the elder Chozo’s posture go stiff at the sudden, admittedly startling intrusion of his personal space. He had lifted his arms enough to give her room, though she had to further stop a girlish laughter from escaping her lips when he could feel him, awkwardly at first, laying his own embrace around her. Through the silence, Gray Voice seemed to relax as well, and they shared a proper hug. “Are you alright, Samus?” he broke the silence. “Yeah,” Samus replied, then released him to stand before him. “I… “...I just missed you.” She watched his features reflect soft knowing. “The feeling is most certainly mutual… and I apologize that I have not been able to come around sooner.” Samus knew by his tone that he was hanging on his words, and she cocked another eyebrow. “I’m about to hear a ‘but.’” “...but I know you deciding to visit yourself is not why you’re here.” Samus glanced around, and noticed that darkness had crept in: The hills and ruins just beyond the well-rendered, nebulous haze in the far distance were now completely shrouded in a void of black. Something told her she was not exactly rich on time, though she was in no way going to squander her moments with Gray Voice… covertly fighting the Tantabus notwithstanding. “Oh?” she asked. “And what makes you say that?” He gestured out with one arm around towards the environment at large. “This is a sequestered plane—one that exists at the nexus of your mind, your dreams, and the astral plane at large. It is a rather specific place to be for such a random occurrence,” he noted, then returned his faded golden eyes to hers from over his beak. “And as such, it is evident that you have come here with a purpose… whether willingly or not.” Samus shrugged, and pivoted on her heels a bit as she, too, gazed pensively over the horizon, and into the surrounding void that had further closed in. “Yeah… truth be told, I’m not really sure what the hell I’m supposed to be doing here. Something about reflection and forgiveness or something to fight the Tantabus,” she let herself ramble in his presence, even if he might not have had the context for everything she was currently dealing with right now. Who was she kidding? He was one of her Chozo elders. He had enough context for everything, all the time, even in the afterlife. “So… uh, yeah. Not sure what I’m supposed to forgive myself for. There’s been a lot of shit over the years, so really, it could be anything. Was never good with the cryptic stuff. Even with you and Old Bird.” And in Samus’ mind, the entire reason for her morale slump over the last couple missions was because she didn’t know what she was looking for… what else she needed to continue to live up to the name and task bestowed upon her by the Chozo at large. This was really only somewhat remedied once she found tangible, re-fired purpose with her travel companions thus far—her time in Canterlot Castle and with Viridian Shield further reinforced this. But, it in no way treated the cause. Merely the symptoms. Was she really expected to solve all of that right here and now? In some weird astral projection of a lucid dream of Zebes with Gray Voice? She shrugged one last time and resolutely added: “I legitimately don’t know what to do.” She exhaled to reign in her frustration a tad. Through the silence of the flowing Zebesian winds, she watched as Gray Voice smirked… though it was in a way in which she couldn’t tell if he was having a chuckle at her slight dig at him, or if he saw something else that she didn’t. Knowing him, it was a little of column A and a hell of a lot of column B, if she had to hazard a guess. Another glance to her surroundings, and she noted the void approaching further: the closer hills and rocky plateaus amongst the desert sands were now swallowed up and completely gone beyond the abyss… an abyss that seemed to still-perfectly mesh with the bright blue sky above the further upward she looked. By this point, she knew it had something to do with the Tantabus’ methods of ‘subsuming’ her and feeding on her. Thankfully, Gray Voice finally spoke, which brought her mind away from approaching doom, for the time being. Straight-forwardly, he said: “Quite frankly, Samus, I do not believe you when you say that.” Samus didn’t get to respond, and was instead privy to something even rarer from him—sarcasm—as he gestured around him. “I can only wonder why you just so happened to meet me here, on Zebes, in a rather crude projection of where you last knew that I was alive?” Samus froze.  Her eyes went wide as the realization struck her harder than a Pirate assault rifle burst when she wasn’t paying attention. She was suddenly hit with the core memory of firstly when she learned that he had been the DNA donor that allowed her to survive on Zebes… knowledge she had cherished since she learned it after he had died. The literal, familial connection, essentially a father-daughter-esque bond, further swelled the sudden tidal wave of emotions she was experiencing when she understood, secondly, where they were. “This… this is where you fought Ridley.” “And died, yes,” he flatly confirmed. “Admittedly, this is not a perfect recollection since you weren’t there, but it’s close enough.” The void further closed in. Samus stumbled a step as she shakily exhaled, further put off-balance by a second layer of realization as to what she thought was happening. She now understood why she was here. The words pertaining to this realization fought valiantly to burst out of her throat, but still, she fought them. Her mouth hurt with how badly she wanted to say certain things… things that she had only said to herself when alone on an insomniatic night when missions were few and far between. Samus had to, though. She knew she did. Thus, even though she pensively—anxiously—averted her gaze at first, she quickly affixed her eyes up at Gray’s. Then, her much softer, tender words were spoken: “I couldn’t save you.” The Chozo, for his part, didn’t seem particularly fazed by Samus’ revelation of what she considered one of her greatest failures. He shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe. “Of course you couldn’t. It had all been by my design… and I knew that if any part of it went awry, I would be the only one to suffer for it. “To that end, Samus, you did exactly what I asked you to do, and got the rest of the Chozo off Zebes so they might live. And that the Galaxy would have more time to defend itself.” Samus continued to stare at him wordlessly, even though his last words fell silent more than a few seconds prior. Again, she found the ground much more interesting when she felt his genuinely pitying gaze… …along with his large hand upon her shoulder. “You still hold that over yourself. Don’t you, my child?” There were no reserves of confidence anymore that Samus could draw on. Her admission had spent it all, and her silence was more than enough to answer his question, at first. His inquiry brooked a response, but she still could not bear to look him in the eyes right now, and was all-too happy to let her bangs droop over her eyes. “No… Maybe… I-I always wondered what could’ve happened if I got back to Zebes sooner than I did. Or if I didn’t break down in front of Ridley and started shooting him on sight…” She finally looked back up at Gray Voice, eyes beginning to feel a little sore. “...That things might’ve ended differently. That maybe, if I hadn’t frozen up when I did, that just maybe you’d still be alive, and you would’ve had to do what you did.” Gray Voice softly shook his head, yet still managed a soft smile for her. “There truly wasn’t anything that you could’ve done. As I said before, the entire thing was planned from the ground up: attempting to strike at the heart of the Pirates and Mother Brain herself once I had realized she had essentially gone rogue in her programming.” He gestured open-palmed to her with his free hand. “You being brought before her and Ridley as an attempt to sway you to the cause was all part of the ruse. Perhaps there was the tiniest twinge of disappointment that you didn’t even attempt to attack Ridley on sight… I’ll be honest and forthcoming about that. I feel after everything, I at least owe you that much.” Samus listened intently as he continued: “But to that end, it would’ve made absolutely no difference. Had you overcome your fears and your trauma attack and launched yourself at the Pirate Commander…” He shrugged again, having already known the answer: “You and I both know that you were in no way in the appropriate mental state for combat with him of all creatures. To put it simply: I had already decided to use myself as bait and a sacrifice to get the rest of the Chozo off Zebes. “And through that, you being incapacitated for those moments bought enough time for you to help facilitate this goal. But perhaps, my child, something more important happened: You, yourself, survived.” Samus increasingly felt the air taken from her lungs as her second father continued his lecture: “Samus, I was not merely commenting on your height when I said that you had grown after all these years since I last saw you. You’ve shown that my faith in donating Chozo genes to you has never once been misplaced… and even after death, I’ve continued to watch you grow.” The Hunter’s composure cracked when Gray unexpectedly pulled her in for another, most paternal hug… one that she didn’t even hesitate in returning as she buried her face in his chest. “And like I had said in those final moments before that wretched reptile finished me off: you’ve grown so strong, Samus. You’ve only continued to do so, after Zebes.” By the time she separated from him, Samus had fully grasped her folly. For all these years she had been carrying the self-inflicted wound that she was somehow responsible for Gray Voice’s death. He had instead ordained it himself, and in reality, there was nothing she could’ve done that would’ve changed things, or seen to her survival. Shakily, she looked to her hands as they trembled before her. Her vision blurred from tears that she didn’t know she could cry, even in a dream… tears which fell between her fingers and disappeared in the sand. Not that clearer vision would’ve helped her in the slightest: she could no longer see beyond the void that had consumed the ruins the two of them stood in. Both she and Gray Voice stood alone on a patch of sand. Only when she gazed back up, full of hope, into his eyes did the Chozo further speak: “Do you remember what I said to you, when I visited you after you returned to Zebes to finish what I could not? Because it was the truth: the Chozo’s tasks had truly been completed… for a time, at least.  “But, there was one thing I neglected to mention for lack of my own time.” He pointed a long, aged, spindly finger right at Samus’ heart. “So long as you live, Samus, the Chozo will continue to exist. Through you, our legacy shines like the brightest stars in the known universe… whether we are truly extinct, or not.” Samus had no more shame to give as her body trembled. She dared not avert her gaze this time as she nodded vehemently, and pursed her lips as her eyes dribbled rivulets of hot tears down her cheeks. Gray Voice warmly, proudly finished: “You have done so, so well, my child. You truly never asked for any of this burden, and for that, on behalf of all Chozo, I apologize, for anything it might be worth at this point…  “Yet, here you stand, amongst all the good you have accomplished. Though your fire may have dimmed, it was never extinguished—it still burns brightly with the righteousness I always saw in your eyes.  “After all this time, my daughter, you are my greatest achievement.” Whatever remaining composure she had broke entirely as Samus began openly weeping.  She threw her arms around him and held him as tightly as she could, spilling the rawest emotion she had since her mental breakdown the first time she ever returned to Zebes. Much to her relief, he seemed more than happy to reciprocate, nor was there any emotion returned but pure, loving support. But much unlike that previous time, she could not have felt better saying what she said, and hearing what she heard. This was it.  But hearing Gray Voice say those things to her… he acknowledged her. Her growth, her pain, her suffering… her life. It was a paternal feeling of guidance and reassurance that she didn’t know she needed from him specifically, and of which no one else could provide.  There had just never been enough time to hear it. Samus shut her eyes tight, wringing out any more tears that might’ve remained. After a few pleasant moments, she then sniffled and breathily steeled her resolve that had been so powerfully reforged: “T-Thanks, Gray… I swear… I can do this. I’m going to do this!” “I never believed you couldn’t. Nor has your ability ever been in doubt with me,” he replied, and despite their height difference, Samus could hear the smirk in his voice: “It is good that you finally understand: it’s okay. It was always okay, and I hope that breaking yourself free of this shackle will come to not only save your life, as you’ve saved the lives of countless others. But more than that, may it unchain you literally, and propel you forward.” She nodded silently, and felt her body energized in a way that she hadn’t felt in years, further building upon her already-swollen spirits. Her thoughts, however, were cut short when a deafening rustling, an eerie moaning like a ferocious hurricane wind battering the shoreline began to gradually overtake the silence. She pulled back from Gray Voice and turned to see the darkness physically swirling with the wind around her… and perhaps more disappointingly to her, Samus glanced back to her adoptive parent and watched as the fringes of his form began to slowly fizzle into nothingness. She sighed out solemnly, knowing full-well what this meant. “Already…? So soon?” Gray Voice smiled ruefully, and nodded. “I’m afraid so, Samus.” Samus meekly replied: “Just a little longer… please?”  He reminded her: “Viridian Shield still lives, which means you are in marvelous hands should you ever need guidance. And you still have a quarrel to finish. “There will be plenty of time to reconvene again when both of us are less… occupied,” he then hinted. Disappointed, Samus pursed her lips and nodded, nevertheless accepting his words as her temporary reality began to brighten around her into a blinding light. Gray Voice’s body further was carried away on the winds of her inevitable awakening. “Okay, Gray…” she said. And in one last external bout of self-reinforcement, she nodded curtly with a renewed, steely stoicism she had appropriated her whole life since Zebes. And in a spur of the moment decision, she trialed one more word in acknowledgement: “Will do, Dad.” Gray smiled wider. “And, Samus?” “Yeah?” His echoing, declaiming voice was all she heard as she was suddenly blinded by pure white like a growing flashbang, and his form faded completely. “The defense of the Galaxy still rests in your capable hands, my daughter. May you succeed where we failed. Wield our weapons and armor—your weapons and armor, Entrusted One. Defend this planet. Defend your companions. Defend our legacy. “GO FORTH AND FIGHT!” Samus shot awake with a righteous scream as her entire body coursed with a sudden, electrical jolt that instantly ignited all her senses back in reality. Eyesight crystal clear from a moment’s wetness, flared with magic via the light reflection from inside her visor, Samus was greeted with a familiar heads-up display. She was further reoriented when she realized that she was still prone, facing the ceiling of the Ascension Chamber. She flicked vision in all directions, and caught the slightest glimpse of the magical wake of a lavender, spherical field that had expanded outwards in all directions. Her ears, once ringing, were now assaulted by the horrific, blood-curdling screeches of hellish, grievous wounds as the Tantabus was shredded by… whatever she had just seen.  She sat up, and a quick test of all her limbs confirmed that she was completely free of her magical restraints and her enemy’s attempts and subsuming her. Further, the once muffled voices in her head quickly began to gain more prominence as her sense of hearing stabilized through the cacophonous, gurgling screeches that sounded like the Tantabus was choking on its own viscera. Samus leapt to her feet, fully reinvigorated as she aimed her cannon at a partially-reconstructed, faltering dream entity.  The Tantabus kept attempting to rapidly reform itself into a pony, but failed every time as it melted back on itself. Each time it only managed a broken, nightmarish caricature of its previous form as it seemed to lack the constitution to reform into anything. Through its wretched howls that rattled Samus’ bones and the chamber at large, it ceded ground. Her thoughts were fully cleared up to ask the relevant questions now that she had breathing room: “What the hell happened?! Did I kill it?” Twilight was on the scene to brief her with equal urgency: “I don’t know! You definitely did something, though! We’ve fought the Tantabus in the past and this never happened!” That was all the confirmation that Samus needed to know that she did what she had to do, and she severely wounded it at the very least. Wordlessly, and with an emotional inferno that likewise re-ignited the entirety of her fighting spirit, Samus charged headlong against the Tantabus. Cannon outstretched, she poured a one-woman enfilade of Pulse Missiles in a literal walking barrage. Nearly all shots hit their mark, and she happily sent charged shots  its way for the extra insult whenever she needed to dodge outstretched, spearing attacks in the Tantabus’ last, desperate attempts to defend itself. Shot by shot, blast by blast, Samus cut down its nebulous formations of appendages that were thrust against her, until she was just close enough to take inspiration from her fight with the Somnia back in Canterlot. Gritted teeth, steely eyed, and with a viciousness hitherto unseen by her travel companions, Samus went in for the kill with a magically charged fist. Her target was the screeching, jaggedly half-formed pony face. She stopped her attack dead, frozen, wide-eyed as she was inexplicably greeted with the image of Gray Voice in the Tantabus’ place. He was wounded and prone on the ground before her, holding his scarred hand up to shield his face from Samus’ incoming blow. So stunned was she by the display, that the single second it took her to realize the ruse was all that was needed for her enemy to slink away entirely. She lowered into a fighting stance and shot three more rounds off at its fleeing form, but nevertheless sped away up the cavern walls, having reformed with a couple of its satellite ‘puddles’ that had broken off during their recent fight. The Tantabus screeched the entire time until Samus could no longer hear, nor see it on radar. It was completely out of sight and mind. It had fled the area and forfeited the battle entirely, though in its wake, left behind more than a few questions and clues as to what’s been happening. Samus still aimed down her sights towards the shrouded ceiling of the chamber, and used the few moments of a rather bloated silence to collect herself from the more recent experience. She exhaled and then relaxed her posture, dropping her weapon to her side, and sarcastically observed: “Now I’m wondering how much that thing has been responsible for in the last couple days. Not all of the bullshit could’ve been mere coincidence. But, it’s gone now. I’m sure there’ll be absolutely no problems from that at all.” “Considering our own experiences with it, this is kind of expected behavior of the Tantabus. Whatever you did in your dream though… whatever it was, seriously hurt it. I hadn’t ever seen it torn to pieces like that!” Twilight said. Samus narrowed her eyes where she last had sight of the Tantabus’ form, but nevertheless remained silent for a few moments. It wasn’t the first time that mortal danger ended up getting away from her, only to come back and literally haunt her further down the line in her mission. She huffed before she turned back towards the altar, then casually marched her way over. “I’ll make sure to kill it properly, next time if it shows up again.” The exceedingly bright, coruscating sphere of magic was now free of the Tantabus’ veil, and like she had first seen it, its blue hue heralded her forward. It was time to actually finish what they came here to do. “Not sure that’ll be possible without Luna’s help, at least from my memory,” said Twilight. Speaking of memory… Samus asked pointedly: “How much did you all see while I was unconscious?” Only hearing her own footfalls for the next few seconds as she re-approached the steps of the altar of the Ascendance Object told her everything. Rarity, however, gingerly admitted on behalf of the whole group: “More than enough, dear.” Siiiiigh. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was annoyed that they bore witness to… well, all of that while she was out for the count. She could speculate on what insecurities she had, or if it undermined her image of her knowing what she was doing… not that she really ever claimed to know everything she was doing. Samus wasn’t in the mood to rationalize herself into a corner right now, and from the ensuing silence afforded by all three of the girls, it seemed they were more than happy to give her space from the subject. She was more than grateful for that. At least, for now. If Samus knew Twilight well-enough, she’d try to broach the subject at some point in the near future. That was fine by her. Samus re-ascended the altar, step-by-step, and continued the process of speculation from where she left off before the Tantabus made its unwelcome appearance. Finally in front of the swirling ball of entropic magic, Samus could just feel how powerful and chaotic it was through her own sensitivity. It enveloped her in a foreign warmth… but so antsy and electrified did she suddenly feel, that she figured if she stepped any closer, the idle humming that she was feeling through her Suit’s metal and her bones would somehow lash out and consume her. As the silence continued as Samus figured the girls were likewise taking in the magical object before them. Her curiosity all the while got the better of her, and she brushed past the pillar that held the lone aperture, and dipped a single finger into the swirling magic… …which phased right through, though it disappeared behind the veil. But oh did she feel the sudden effects. A surge of energy wormed its way up her spine as the tendrils of the magic graced her energy shielding. She was thereafter greeted by an interesting, if familiar pop-up on her HUD: [Full recharge complete. All Weapons and Energy have been replenished. Magical Stamina has been restored.] What she distinctly did not feel was any hostility. In fact, owing to the fact that she, in fact, hadn’t gone mad by way of the Tantabus’ antics, she could distinctly feel the sphere’s chaotic energy begin to calm… as did the intensity of the currents of magic, visually. It was the warmth similar to seeing an old friend that gradually put her at ease, and Samus could feel it beckoning her forward. It was inviting her… which begged the question on how to proceed. “Okay so…” Samus broke the silence. “What to do? Twi? Guessing it has something to do with that interface over there?” she turned back towards the pillar, whose aperture was conspicuously the size of her cannon’s barrel. “Not entirely sure, but when you touched it just now, I could feel it reacting warmly as you did, so I don’t think there’s any danger here. Buuuut… remember from the crystal recording that Luna said that I had the power to reconstitute her and Celestia?” “Yeah…” “So I’m thinking that you channel me in my purest elemental form via your hand. Just like the cypher lock earlier.” “And then?” “Use that ‘interface’ and try inserting me directly into the magic?” It was as easy as Samus could’ve hoped, magically speaking, and thankfully the experience with the lock beforehand gave her all the knowledge she needed to work with.  In a moment of deliberation, Samus raised her armored hand to eye-level just in front of her visor, and regarded it pensively. She was rather well acquainted with the irony that, unlike her other missions in so many systems where her Arm Cannon had been the interface, this time it would be her venerable hand that had been doing the literal and figurative heavy lifting with her newfound abilities. As she had been taught so well, Samus closed her eyes and easily isolated Twilight’s element via magic, and at once her hand and forearm responded with a brilliant, lavender hue of her magic’s glow. The manifestation of Twilight’s element appeared in her palm, safely nestled. Immediately, Samus could see that the entropic sphere reacted strongly to the Element of Magic, like it called out directly for it. She could feel that warmth even more strongly than before… a warmth that was once friendly but was now excited. Jubilation. Hunger. She took a couple rearward steps to get in front of the interface properly. “Alright, then. We’ve gotten this far. Do what you gotta do, Twi.” The Hunter wasted no further time and thrust her lit-up arm through the aperture and hilted up to her elbow, which had the effect of sinking her hand midway down her forearm into the entropic magic. Much like when she had thrust her cannon like a spear into the energy controllers back on Aether, Samus felt a sudden, seismic surge of energy coursing through her body. It was all magic, and she didn’t know her visor was capable of displaying colors like an oily puddle as said magic rippled over—and through—her form. She steeled herself and held firm. It didn’t repel her, nor did she have any sudden urge or compulsion to disengage. In fact, whatever she was reacting with beyond the now aggressively coruscating veil of magic… it, and the aperture, held her cemented. It was wholly unwilling to release her arm in any direction, as if Samus were magnetically attached and at the mercy of whatever process was taking place. She started seeing things again. Rather than phantom sightings of Prime, they were much like the visions she was subjected to during the transition from the Ascension Hall to the Ascension Chamber. Flashes and instants, fleeting seconds of recollection of memories of various scenes of ponies that she knew she couldn’t possibly have. Each one graced Samus with different stages of Luna as she grew older throughout her rather long life, from her childhood as a filly, to her corruption as Nightmare Moon, and ultimately as she remembered her through the recording as an adult alicorn ruler of Equestria… …and the final vision of a blinding, rainbow flash as she stared down certain doom, having met her end at the tail-end of the Crisis. An entire life’s story was flashing before Samus’ curious eyes… and what she was decidedly not privy to was a swirling, unmistakably visible and conspicuous column of teal magic rising from outside the temple, and arcing towards the visible moon high in the late-afternoon sky. At this point, her forearm was now struggling to maintain its position inside the activated magic, shaking so violently as if it was trying to pull her further inward. Concerned over the course of these last few seconds, and with no vocal intervention from Twilight nor the other girls in her systems, Samus debated when would be a good time to attempt to extricate herself from her position, if that was even possible. She was suddenly, utterly, and violently released via the throes of a blast of magical energy that careened her clear off the altar.  Samus had been submitted to worse, unwilling changes of position in the past, so it was easy enough to lean into her newfound kinetic energy and drop into an elegant roll.  Silence reigned again, and whilst knelt, a quick diagnostic check revealed all systems fully online, functional and at capacity. She flared her hand in magic, proving its continued existence, and her connection with the Elements, all registering on her HUD, was as strong as ever.  She glanced back up at the altar, where the nestled sphere of magic had faded entirely from existence, with the only remnants of the previous process being the lingering magically charged sparks, bolts, and zaps around the chamber. “Everyone alright?” Samus called out. Twilight replied, surprisingly groggily: “W-Whoa… I could feel her… and yeah, I’m here! I don’t really know what happened as it felt like I was just existing but, I’m okay!” “I’m here too!” said Fluttershy. “Myself as well!” likewise said Rarity. More than happy that everything was as it should be, Samus further inquired as she made her way back up the stairs to the altar, having noted the absence of the central sphere of magic. “Good to hear. But what now? Did we do…” Her words trailed off, as did she pause with one foot on the platform when she spied something that was decidedly not there previously. Laying messily strewn before her was what appeared to be a larger pony, navy-blue in coat, with a lifeless, lighter-blue mane splayed out haphazardly around her prone form. “Uhhh, is that…?” Samus wondered aloud, quickly making her way over to the fallen form to kneel over her. “It’s her!” exclaimed Twilight. “She’s alive… right?” Now loomed over her, Samus could not only confirm her identity visually based solely on Twilight’s tellings as well as the recordings she had seen—lack of ethereal, magical mane notwithstanding. She could also see a steady, if slow, rhythmic rise and fall of Luna’s barrel. “Well, she’s breathing, which is good. One sec…” Samus performed a quick scan, not that she really needed to, on account of the lack of any identity crisis on Twilight’s part regarding the newcomer. [Scanning…] [Scan Complete] [Princess Luna. Status: Alive. Vitals Stable. Magical signature is markedly weak, but slowly rising.] “Yeah, she’s good. Seems a bit weak though, which I guess is expected.” Ever the risk-taker, Twilight materialized in the real world in a flashing torrent of magic right next to Samus’ kneeling form, ready to be on the scene. Rarity and Fluttershy followed closely behind in their own radiant flashes of colored magic. “Princess…?” Twilight tentatively called out, hoof raised, as the rest of them crowded around Luna’s nascent, debatably conscious body. “Can you hear us, Your Highness…?” Rarity likewise asked. Fluttershy opted to remain quiet, though Samus watched as she curiously peeked from behind the veil of her flowing mane, scanning the diarch’s body for what the Hunter assumed was any obvious sign of injury. Luna, however, gasped…  And then coughed…  And then finally groaned groggily in her first signs of conscious life. Her mane hung droopily around her face as she steadily took deeper and deeper breaths. Soon enough, she managed to get herself on her haunches, to which the girls were instantly upon her to help stabilize her. “Easy, Princess…” Fluttershy spoke softly. “Nice and easy, now…” All the while, Samus watched them sit her up properly, and only then did Luna seem to understand what was happening as she regained lucidity. Her mane parted from her muzzle when she gazed, groggy-eyed, to the ponies around her. Realization seemed to sparkle in her teal-blue eyes, which gradually widened as Samus figured she was wondering how much of this was actually reality or not. She’d been there, once or twice. Her eyes fell on each of the three ponies, her gaze full of recognition before finally, Luna spoke, fatigued, if beholden in the most exhausted way possible: “Y-You—You found me… “You restored me…” And those words brought more than measurable, beaming grins to all the ponies’ faces. Twilight nodded vehemently, and even giggled through her own tears of happiness she was shedding. “YES!! We did! We found your message and, well… you led us here!” Luna smiled warmly. “I must admit…” she began anew, stretching out her shoulders until all heard an audible pop. “...that went by a bit quicker than I expected. I feel like I awoke from a very long, unsatisfying nap.” The girls all giggled at that, and that’s when Luna opened her legs and brought all of them in for a deep, meaningful hug, more than happy to have her personal space overcrowded. “It’s so wonderful to see you all again. I… I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for actually restoring me.” “And it’s beyond marvelous to have you back, Your Highness,” said Rarity. Fluttershy happily said: “It was a bit of a team effort, Princess… maybe a bit more from some of us, than others,” Fluttershy alluded, and shot a knowing, thankful look back at Samus. Luna hummed in observation as she pulled back from the group hug. “There’s only three of you… things have certainly transpired.” And that’s when she noticed Samus, knelt a little further back behind the pony cuddle pile, and the Hunter could feel her lingering, rapt curiosity boring through her entire form. “Interesting things, indeed.” Twilight proved to be the perfect lead into introductions, as she gestured towards Samus. “We couldn’t’ve done any of this without her,” she noted. “Princess, this is Samus Aran. An offworlder—not affiliated with the other ones. There’s more to it than that, and we’ll catch you up when we get back to Ponyville, but she made this all possible.” Samus crept in just a smidge closer, though remained on one knee as she removed her helmet with the telltale depressurization hiss. She shook her hair free of any matted strands and then decided on her own introduction: “Heh, what Twilight said,” she began. “Samus Aran. Bounty Hunter. Species: human. Happy to expand on that later but… yeah. Thanks for the clues you left behind in Canterlot. Made the job a lot less of a blind crapshoot.” Luna smirked, nodding and never once breaking eye contact. “Yes… I had hoped the Elements would find that, somehow. And it appears that you’re the one who helped them. Indeed, much has happened, it seems, and I look forward to playing catchup. “I’m Luna. Princess of the Night of Equestria. Thank you, Samus, for helping to restore me. I’ve only just met you and I know not how I can repay your efforts… but for now, regrettably, I must ask you one immediate favor.” Samus cocked her head. “Hmm?” Luna placed her hoof in Samus’ armored palm and reluctantly asked: “I sincerely apologize, but would you kindly help me up?” All the girls devolved into outright laughter, and even though Samus could read the abject seriousness on Luna’s face, the Princess likewise giggled into her other hoof. Samus wasn’t immune, and smirked as she rolled her eyes.  She nodded, nonetheless. “Sure thing! Come on…” she took a firm hold of Luna’s hoof. The rest of the girls nudged her with their muzzles. Once Luna braced herself properly, Samus then hoisted her up. “One, two… there we go!” She struggled at first, and though she needed to lean on the taller Hunter for support initially, she was quickly able to regain full balance on her hooves on her own. Quick conversation between the three Elements and Luna allowed Samus to get a good look at the Princess: her mane was still a lifeless blue, which she figured was because of some magical issues, perhaps. She seemed a little gaunt in musculature compared to pictures and the recording, but she figured that would also resolve itself fairly quickly depending on how involved she got. Even so, Luna still measured up to around Samus’ chest-level in terms of height when she held her horned head high for the first time through her deep, struggling breaths. Not talking to anyone in particular, Luna shamefully added: “I apologize sincerely after all the trouble you went through to retrieve me, but in light of certain events, my magical ability right now is quite poor. I’ll need at least a few days to recharge from my weakened state to near full potential… though proper moonlight will speed the process somewhat.” Twilight was the one to break the news to her with a shake of her head: “Not much back in Ponyville unfortunately. Been raining most days out of the year since the weather teams aren’t around… pretty much since the end of the Crisis.” Luna shrugged and shook her head right back, resigned placidity in her voice. “Then it’ll be as long as it takes. I just apologize in advance that I won't be as useful as I might be under normal conditions.” Luna further caught her breath before adding: “And I don’t mean to whine, but I certainly hope that you have an easier mode of transport back to Ponyville? I can’t imagine you hoofed it all the way over here!” “We’ll deal with things as they come,” said Samus. “Just happy to have you back. And don’t worry. Transport won’t be an issue at all. We’ll be back to Ponyville in a couple hours at most. “Because like you all mentioned, there’s definitely a lot to talk about. Would rather we all be awake for that.” “Agreed,” said Luna as she started forward towards the edge of the altar. “Then let us make haste to—” She stopped in her tracks right as she tore her gaze from Samus’ eyes, and instead decided to linger on them. As for Samus, she blinked, cocked her head, yet didn’t avert her own gaze. In an odd callback to Canterlot, she felt as if her soul was being peered into, much like with Tempest. What added a smidge of unease for her was when the Night Princess’ eyes widened in a rather profound, knowing concern. “You good?” the Hunter asked. Rarity likewise seemed to take note of Luna’s concernedly frozen state. “Your Highness? What’s wrong?” Luna ignored the inquiries directly, and through her observations, she seemed to be getting more stressed by the second.  “How… the Tantabus attacked you. You’re marked. I sense…” She pursed her lips and finally looked elsewhere to catch her breath again, as well as to seemingly steady her composure. Samus figured she shouldn’t be so surprised that Luna could hone in on what appeared to be happening so quickly.  “Yes, Princess,” Twilight confirmed. “I don’t know how it’s even in the waking world but it attacked us. Samus had to fight it off before we could restore you.” Samus nodded. “Yeah. And that’s something I—we—need to talk to you specifically about. Well, there’s a few things I’m told we’ll need your help on but we can take care of that later. Let’s get you out of here, first.” Luna’s features calmed mostly as she took a deep breath, and upon sighing, she smirked softly. “Very well, Hunter.”  “Come on, girls!” Twilight then directed. “Let’s go home!” “Agreed!” “Oh, yay! Please, all my yay!” They lined up one-by-one, and thereafter one-by-one, Samus readmitted them into her systems, much to the wide-eyed, wholly confused astonishment of Luna. It was then Samus’ turn to sport a half-smirk before slipping her helmet back on with a resounding click and hiss. “Hope you know the way to get that elevator running again. I sure as shit don’t.” Samus took her first, victorious steps out of the Temple Entrance, and the fringes of what remained of the afternoon sun breaking through the marine layer glinted majestically off her armor. The full brunt of the last vestiges of the late-afternoon sun, however, in no way hit her full force as she strode in half the shadow of the lunar alicorn steadfastly leading the way. Stable on her hooves by way of her easily visible, dogged canter, Luna was the first to stand at the precipice of the first steps leading away from the Temple… the same ones that Samus had forded hours prior. She did not descend, even when Samus fell in line with her on her immediate left. She did not speak. She merely stood there, basking in the view of the majesty of Equestria’s western coastline as it battered the sandy shores. The Hunter was happy to catch the last bits of light before the return trip, as well as admire the scenery for a few moments. As she glanced at Luna, however, even she couldn’t help but offer a hidden, measured half-smirk. Because there Luna stood, eyes closed, her head held triumphantly high as she let the first, powerful coastal winds she felt in a decade and a half ruffle through her mane, kiss her coat, and bathe her form. A wide, pleasant grin eroded her once-steely exterior much like the oceans carved the very cliffside they stood atop. A second time in her life, she had returned. A second time, she existed. And much like her, Samus likewise felt a distinctly prominent excitement of being alive. As another, massively powerful gust of wind seemed to herald the coming of evening and the return of the Night Princess herself, Luna finally met an onlooking Samus’ own gaze with one eye through her windswept mane. Further, Samus could note the tiniest hue of blue around her periphery, in the presence of the visible moon above. “There’s much work to be done. Especially with you.” Samus raised an eyebrow behind her visor. “Oh?” “You, Samus, have the Tantabus stalking you. There’s much to do to ensure you’re prepared to finish it off when it does come back.” She then gestured down the stairs. “So. Shall we?”