I nodded silently.
"They're not going to stop," Flash added, his gaze locking with mine. "They're waiting for us to make a mistake."
"I know," I replied quietly.
My mind was already reviewing the Cube's seals, the anchors maintaining the barrier, and the secondary magical core I'd installed underground. I couldn't launch a direct offensive without reconfiguring all of that… but I also couldn't allow this to drag on. If the tension rose, or if something triggered an aggressive response among the creatures, the containment could fracture.
"Not yet," I finally told Big Mac, keeping my eyes on the horizon. "Just a little longer. Let them pile up."
The moment would come.
And when it did… there would be no turning back.
"I'll fly up and check when they stop coming," Flash said without hesitation.
With a powerful flap of his wings, he took off.
We watched him disappear above the dome, leaving a trail of silence behind. Big Mac and I stood watch, surrounded by the containment field, while beyond the veil, the creatures kept arriving.
Wait.
That was the plan. But waiting under tension… becomes unbearable.
I slowly channeled magic into my horn and traced a small magical circle beneath one of the creatures closest to the limit. I didn't use a complex spell. Just light. Raw. Simple.
A spike of energy pierced the air.
And a second later, the creature's head exploded into blackened fragments.
The reaction was immediate.
Growls, twitching bodies, eyes multiplying across their deformed surfaces. The ones closest to the fallen beast lunged at its corpse, tearing and devouring it without shame.
I watched in silence. That magic was basic. I hadn't modified it to make it solid. Just light, projected toward a target.
And it worked.
"Interesting…" I murmured.
I repeated the action, but this time I modified the spell. I gave it direction. Nature.
My own.
That energy I barely understood. That I always kept restrained out of caution. The one Celestia had said I shouldn't use without full awareness.
I aimed at another creature.
The spell hit… and it didn't just pierce through.
It burned.
The dark flesh turned to ash instantly. The creature disintegrated as if denied by the world itself. The affected area burned, but not with fire. It was a silent combustion, magical, absolute.
I stood still.
That wasn't normal.
I knew my affinity—my sacred nature—had a purifying component. That it could burn corrupted or spectral entities. But not with that intensity. Not so absolutely.
"Could it be because they're creatures of darkness…?" I wondered aloud.
It would be an easy explanation. And tempting. But it didn't fit.
My magical sense told me so. Not with words. With that sensation at the back of my neck, like an uncomfortable itch I couldn't ignore.
This was something else.
Something in them… or in me.
It wasn't just an elemental reaction.
It was deeper.
"But if it works, I won't refuse to use it," I said under my breath, eyes still on the ashes floating in the air.
"They're weak," Big Mac commented beside me, watching the remains with a mix of awe and distaste. "But it's annoying how many there are. Would've been a disaster if you weren't here, Wizbell."
I didn't answer right away.
I didn't give much weight to his words.
Because if I weren't here, another pony would be. Another agent would have been sent. The plan didn't depend on me; I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. And that didn't make me essential.
Just responsible.
———
Inside the town hall, the atmosphere was very different.
Though the initial fear still lingered in some corners, activity kept everyone busy. The movement, the tasks, the calm voices helped support the emotional structure of the gathered ponies.
Lyra had offered to play music for the foals. She used a small portable lyre, and though the melody was simple and cheerful, her intention was clear: to distract. She helped channel the energy of the little ones, to reduce general anxiety.
It worked.
The foals sat around, some murmuring to each other, others simply listening while munching on cookies or cuddling next to their parents. It was an image of calm amidst the chaos.
However, not everyone was at peace.
Bon Bon, sitting by the door, watched in silence. Her expression was tense, almost annoyed. Not because of the confinement. Not because of the wait. But because of the informational darkness. Not knowing what was happening on the other side was, to her, worse than the danger.
Her eyes were fixed on the floating runes surrounding the doorframe, recognizing patterns, trying to understand.
She had also noticed the emblems Wizbell and Big Mac used to enter and exit. Small details that didn't go unnoticed by someone like her.
WARDS.
She understood.
All of this was tied to something bigger. Something beyond her grasp.
She moved a bit closer to the door, analyzing the magic swirling over the runes. It wasn't just a seal. It was a complex network of restriction, authorization, and monitoring. If she'd brought her tools, she might have made a controlled magical cut, or even a bypass to see outside without breaking the formation.
But she hadn't brought them.
And now she could only observe.
Frustrated, she stepped back and sat down again, her eyes never leaving the enchanted door.
Something important was happening. And she was in the dark.
———
Though he hadn't been told directly, Flash had adapted quickly. He didn't need instructions or precise orders. He understood the rhythm, read the environment, adapted.
Trying to force him to stay inside the town hall wouldn't have worked. He wasn't the type to sit and wait behind a magical barrier. And while I still wasn't sure if letting him see so much—if letting him participate at this level was fair for someone like him—right now…
He was being useful. Very useful.
And then I saw him return.
He did so at an absurd, almost fantastical speed. Cutting through the sky like it was mere suggestion.
Movements pulled straight from a low-budget fantasy movie… but flawless.
Then I saw it.
Flash kicked the air.
An impossible move for any creature that wasn't a pegasus.
He performed a magical phenomenon unique to his species, something only achievable through pegasus magic: he used the magical density of the sky as a foothold. With that suspended kick in the void, he redirected all his momentum upward, spun mid-air, and landed with perfect control, as if gravity was merely a suggestion rather than a rule.
"They're not coming anymore," he announced with a breath as he folded his wings. "The last group stopped at the edge of the forest. They didn't cross the line. Like they knew it wasn't worth it."
"Perfect," I murmured, more to myself than to him.
That meant it was time.
No more waiting.
I moved my magic toward the formation.
As soon as the energy flowed, it expanded in an instant, as if it had been waiting for the order. I blasted it with magic directly, and in response, the protective ring widened like an inverted shockwave.
The creatures reacted instantly. Confused. Agitated.
But I didn't give them time.
At that exact moment, the formation's second function activated: forced redirection.
All threats were transferred to the Cube.
That construct had been silently floating above the town hall, anchored between magical layers and hidden by an illusion. Casting a linking spell to Flash, I ensured he was included in the transport just before the transition.
And then the world changed.
The sky, the ground, everything.
We were no longer outside the town hall.
Now we were inside a closed, artificial space, perfectly flat. The ground was a mix of earth and flattened stone, arranged with a precision only magic or technology could achieve. In the distance, metal walls sealed the perimeter, and above us, a false ceiling projected artificial light from an unknown source.
We were inside the Cube.
"Well… feel free to let it out, guys," I said calmly, eyes still fixed on the creatures.
Big Mac snorted. He said nothing else.
He ran.
Like a runaway train. Like a living projectile.
The creatures barely had time to notice his charge before he was upon them. He leapt with power, and upon landing, his hoof struck the ground with overwhelming force.
The ground shattered. It rose in plates. Rocks and dust flew through the air. The impact sent several creatures flying like broken dolls. The shockwave felt like a contained thunderclap. A gust of wind shook everything around us.
I whistled in admiration.
"Whistle. I knew he hit hard… but not that hard."
Beside me, Flash glanced at me with one eyebrow raised.
"So… are you guys some kind of secret guardians? Do you eliminate threats like this, in silence, while the rest of Equestria sleeps?"
His eyes remained fixed on Big Mac, who now walked among the scattered remains of the first attack, calmly looking for the next group.
I simply replied without looking directly at him:
"We're not here to be seen."
"Well," I added, with a neutral tone, "the two of us handle the direct elimination."
It wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the whole truth either.
As I spoke, several magic circles began to form around me. They took shape in the air, spinning slowly, charging energy with that distinct glow of my magical nature. These weren't normal spells. They didn't project heat or destructive vibration.
They projected judgment.
The holy rays fired like spears of pure light, piercing with surgical precision the beasts trying to regroup after Big Mac's impact. Each hit was sharp, clean… and final.
"Or do you see any 'hugs' in my attacks?" I added with a hint of sarcasm, not taking my eyes off the front.
A creature slid down from above, launching itself at us with alarming speed. Its elongated limbs spun like blades, and its mass fluctuated as if it had no defined shape.
Flash tensed his wings, but didn't need to move.
Before the creature could even reach the air above our heads, it was riddled by a barrage of my spells. Four beams pierced it mid-flight, disintegrating it instantly in a rain of shimmering particles that faded without leaving a trace.
"Subtle," Flash remarked, not sarcastically, but still surprised.
"Efficient," I corrected.
My tone was cold, as it should be. Emotions were handled later. Here, now, the important thing was the job.
Flash watched in silence.
He didn't speak. He didn't interrupt. He just... watched.
He saw us work —Big Mac crushing creatures as if they were piles of dirt, and me, projecting precise, lethal beams of light— with a neutral expression at first… but something began to shift in his face. Something subtle.
A smile appeared. Not mocking. Satisfied.
"I like this," he finally said, his voice full of resolve. "I don't know how I've never heard of the organization you belong to… but I want in."
He turned to me, and the light in his eyes was no longer just admiration. It was hunger.
"Help me join. I don't want to remain in the fog of ignorance. I want to be on the front lines."
Here and now, Flash found a place.
I saw it in his posture, in the way he breathed. As if something inside him —something that had always been held back— was beginning to align with what he saw before him.
That "something" within him.
That impulse he usually suppressed, that need to enter the conflict, to prove his strength, to let go. I had felt it before, I knew it.
And I had anticipated it.
So I wasn't surprised.
I knew about his special trait.
I knew that, when the time came, he would let it out.
Calmly, I rummaged through my trinkets. Many of the objects were prototypes, test talismans, unfinished ideas… but among them, I found what he needed.
Four metal bracelets. Small, engraved with magic flow runes. Crude, but functional.
"Here," I said, holding them out to him. "Put these on. They'll help you."
He examined them for a moment, surprised by their weight, then began strapping them on without question.
"What do they do?"
"They're designed to store magic and release it gradually. They were intended for healing, if imbued with the right energy…"
I paused.
"…but now they'll be used for a massacre."
Flash's smile widened.
Without another word, he stepped forward, his body beginning to glow with a faint aura. The bracelets reacted immediately, absorbing the energy I had infused into them seconds earlier.
My sacred magic.
They accepted it easily, as if they had been made for it from the start. They were no longer mere catalysts. They were weapons.
And Flash, their wielder.
The metal pulsed softly around his legs, releasing the energy gradually, like a whisper preparing to become a roar.
And I simply watched, in silence.
He had made his choice.
Flash became a blur of lightning.
Just a flash. A blink.
And then, a dozen creatures exploded into pieces, as if they were paper dolls made of shadow and soft flesh. The blows came in bursts too fast to follow, each one charged with near-sonic speed and lethal precision.
Flash moved like a chained lightning bolt, zigzagging between enemies before they could even raise a claw. The bracelets' energy enveloped him, releasing my sacred magic in precise doses with every impact. A white-gold glow flared behind each strike.
Beside him, Big Mac was no longer holding back. His body was a force of nature, and his earth magic turned the ground into living weapons. Seismic strikes, stone slabs raised from below, craters forming beneath his hooves. He destroyed with equal parts technique and brutality.
They didn't stand a chance.
The monsters were numerous, yes. But they were trapped. Disorganized. Afraid.
And we were a storm inside a cage.
I smiled.
"My turn."
My magic circles deployed around me like gears spinning slowly in the air. My horn lit up with a golden aura, more intense than before. Not from rage, but from certainty.
My time had come.
With a flash of light, I crossed half the field in an instant, appearing directly in the heart of the enemy.
The creatures barely had time to react. They could only see me appear in their midst, like a figure torn from the night sky.
And with my appearance… came the sea of spells.
Magic circles manifested around me with a firm and exact pulse. Holy light. Brilliant geometries spinning slowly as they charged energy. My presence was a warning. My spells, the execution.
The few brave enough to approach were smashed to the ground, violently crushed by sheer telekinesis. No fire or lightning needed. Just force. Precision. Intention.
The rest met no better fate.
They were judged.
Beams of light rained down like irrevocable verdicts. This wasn't just destruction. It was a magical response to an internal decision.
With each shot, I understood it better.
My magic didn't just follow spells. It followed emotions.
Not violently. Not uncontrollably. But deeply. It responded to my judgments. To what I decided deserved punishment… or salvation.
Peace. Healing. Calm. Punishment.
They were different expressions of the same root.
And now, in this place…
Facing these beings...
There was no doubt.
They weren't enemies I could reason with.
They were not creatures with any hope of redemption.
In this moment, every single one of them was unworthy.
Unworthy of existing.
Each spell I cast was precise, unerring, impossible to dodge.
They struck with unrelenting accuracy, guided more by intention than trajectory. The creatures—if they could even be called that—were nightmares given form. Not entirely physical, yet tangible enough to be crushed beneath Big Mac's hoof.
I would've classified them as magical spiritual entities: unstable beings that fed off the physical plane, anchored halfway between matter and chaos. That's why my magic hurt them. That's why their bodies could explode with the right impact.
And Big Mac understood that.
He carved a path through them effortlessly, like a force of nature, crushing everything in his wake. He tore them apart without elegance, but with brute efficiency. And it worked.
But the creatures weren't entirely dumb.
They began to adapt.
The weakest, the most shredded, began to merge. Their forms fused into larger, more compact structures. New beasts rose. Taller. Stronger. Faster.
But not fast enough.
Not fast enough to outrun Flash, who sliced through the field like a lightning bolt charged with sacred fury, leaving streaks of light where there had once been darkness.
Not strong enough to resist Big Mac, who countered every mutation with more strength, more mass, more impact.
And from my judgment...
They were still unworthy of existence.
They roared. Screamed. Tried to flee. Some even shrank back, disfiguring themselves in an attempt to reduce their size, as if becoming less might save them.
But there was no room to escape.
No sky.
No shadow.
No exit.
This was their end.
...
It was never a battle.
It was a massacre.
They had the misfortune of facing… the three of us. Maybe, under different circumstances, in another environment, they could have been a real threat. Their ability to hide in the veil of night, to attack from the shadows, even to alter their forms and adapt, made them dangerous enemies.
But not here.
Here, there was no night to hide them.
Here, there were no surprises.
Here, they had nowhere to run.
They didn't even reach the level of an E-Rank threat, at least not with the right tools. Their weakness was clear, their behavior predictable, and their magical structure unstable.
The agency's evaluation seals would confirm the same.
Before it was over, I had already sent a letter—compact, encoded—with the discovery of their weakness. The use of direct light and intention-based magic was enough. It didn't require overwhelming power, only direction.
The agency would know.
There were talented ponies there.
They'd probably figure it out with ease.
They were just the first group.
And we were their first—and last—chance to be feared.
I kept annihilating them. Slowly.
Not out of pride.
Not out of arrogance.
But out of necessity.
I needed to conserve magical power. Ration it. Every spell, every burst, every circle cast was calculated to do just enough. No more.
Because while this fight—if it could be called that—was resolved, another battle was underway. A quieter one. A more important one.
The necklace I had given Twilight before her departure wasn't just a symbol. It was designed with multiple functions: magical support, directional guidance, a temporary shield… and an emergency summon.
If she encountered something that truly threatened her, the link would activate.
And I would be summoned.
Without preparation.
Without the option to refuse.
That's why I had to hold back. I couldn't afford to drain my core just for immediate efficiency.
———
The creature lunged at Twilight.
The necklace's magical shield activated instantly, wrapping Twilight in a field of golden light. It was her last line of defense.
But it wasn't enough.
The shield shattered. The creature pierced through it like it was made of paper, and in that moment, the summoning activated.
I appeared.
No transition. No warning.
The first thing I saw was the monster's open maw, its sharpened teeth mere inches from me. I was annoyed. Not out of fear, but by the sudden and repulsive sight. Its jaw wasn't just a weapon—it was a direct threat, and I reacted immediately.
I grabbed its head with telekinesis and, without a word, smashed it into the floor with contained force.
The impact shook the stone of the throne room. The creature's body cracked violently, but didn't shatter.
It was different.
Its body was covered in a dark exoskeleton, hard, shiny like chitin, with segments that shielded its form but revealed patches of soft flesh between the plates.
And most troubling: it recovered easily.
Too easily.
Its bones cracked and reset as if the blow had merely interrupted it. It rose again in a smooth motion, and its eyes—if they were eyes—locked onto me without any hint of pain.
This was no ordinary creature.
"Do you like my pet? His name is Cometa," said a smug voice from the throne, dripping with confidence and restrained delight.
I turned calmly. There she was.
Nightmare Moon.
Seated with commanding ease upon the stone throne, as if it had always been hers. Living shadow wrapped in armor, dark majesty with a barely visible smile, watching us as if this were a play she already knew by heart.
The creature rose slowly, its black plates sliding into place with eerie fluidity, revealing fragments of soft flesh that pulsed with unsettling life.
I tried to hold it in place with telekinesis, but the magic dissipated on contact. It didn't resist the spell—it absorbed it. As if I'd never cast anything at all.
The creature was devouring magic. A dead zone in the arcane flow. A sinkhole given form. A mobile rift.
"Well, well… another rebel," she said with a sharp smile.
Her tone was light, almost mocking, but she made no move. She didn't seem interested in fighting. Only watching.
"I was enjoying your little friend's efforts, and the others'... and now you've joined the show too."
She didn't rise.
She didn't command.
She simply enjoyed the spectacle.