I walked toward the town hall with firm steps. Big Mac had asked me for an additional magical formation to protect his family, and I had already delivered it. Extra security never hurts… especially tonight.
As I moved through the main streets, several ponies began to leave their homes—some wrapped in blankets, others escorting half-asleep foals. All were heading in the same direction. The atmosphere had that tense calm that precedes important events. Or at least, that's how it felt to me.
When I arrived at the plaza, I noticed several had already gathered. Fluttershy was flying discreetly over the crowd, using subtle gestures to guide the animals into position. She avoided making any noise, but there was a firm focus in her eyes. Serious. Professional. Admirable, even.
"Wizbell!" Applejack called out when she saw me. She walked over with steady steps, smiling, and offered me a slice of apple pie. "Freshly made. Nothing like starting the day with something sweet."
I shook my head politely.
"Thanks, but I'll pass for now."
This wasn't the time to eat. If things got complicated—and there were plenty of reasons to think they would—I didn't want anything in my stomach. Only Big Mac and I knew. For now.
Rarity was making her presence known, of course. She was organizing the decorations with an almost mechanical elegance—smoothing garlands, adjusting bows, rearranging flowers. Around her, several mares worked like a well-rehearsed team. It was clear this wasn't just some improvised event.
Further off, Pinkie Pie zipped around like a whirlwind, guiding ponies to their assigned places. Her boundless energy contrasted with the half-asleep expressions of some. Still, she managed to keep spirits high. By now, she must have been used to the all-nighters that came with the solstice.
Mayor Mare passed close by, holding a clipboard in her teeth as she moved quickly but orderly. She was reviewing notes with a slightly furrowed brow, occasionally dropping the clipboard to scribble something with a pencil tied to a string around her neck. It was clear she was used to organizing things without relying on magic.
When she glanced up at the large clock hanging above the town hall entrance, her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Then, without a word, she headed straight to the podium. She murmured a few "excuse me"s as she courteously made her way through the crowd.
I sat down at the center of the plaza. There wasn't much else to do. Everything important was already in place.
Big Mac arrived shortly after. I spotted him with just a small turn of my head. We exchanged glances. We nodded. No words. We were ready. Now, all that was left was to wait.
It wasn't long before Twilight arrived as well. She walked up to me and stood at my side. There was something different about her presence—it felt less tense than before.
"You look better," I said, noticing her calmer demeanor.
She let out a soft breath, somewhere between resignation and relief.
"I wish I felt better… but… ahh, I don't know," she murmured, looking away slightly. "I decided to stop thinking about it. Just focus on the now and trust that the princess knows what she's doing… and why. Maybe nothing will happen. Maybe it's just a false prophecy. A mistaken warning."
I didn't respond. There was no need. Her voice trembled slightly at the end, but she remained steady.
Then, she looked up toward the rooftop window, toward the sky still covered in stars. The moon peeked through that angle, spilling its light directly onto the podium.
A moment later, the mayor arrived and stepped up to the stage. She tapped the microphone gently with her hoof.
"Fillies and gentlecolts!" the mayor exclaimed with a wide smile, standing proudly at the podium. "As mayor of Ponyville, it is my great pleasure to announce the beginning of the Summer Sun Celebration!"
The ponies applauded enthusiastically, stomping their hooves against the ground. Soft laughter rose here and there. The tension in Twilight's shoulders seemed to ease little by little with each word, each sign that everything was going as planned… that everything was normal.
But I didn't feel that way.
I could feel it.
That presence. Silent, but impossible to ignore. It had been there, hidden beneath the veil of the night's magic, for a few minutes now. I couldn't see it, but I could sense it. It was like pressure in the air, like a dissonant note within a perfect melody.
Her essence was overwhelming. It filled the space with crushing dignity. The same I had once felt in front of Celestia. But where the princess radiated warmth, light… this other presence carried a restrained fury. Cold. Proud. Ancient.
The mayor's voice continued, oblivious to it all.
"In just a few moments, our town will witness the magic of the sunrise… and celebrate this, the longest day of the year! And now," she said proudly, pausing for dramatic effect, "it is my great honor to introduce to you the ruler of our land… the very pony who gives us the sun and the moon each and every day… the good, the wise, the bringer of harmony to all of Equestria… Princess Celestia!"
With a smile full of emotion, she extended her hoof toward the upper balcony—right where the moonlight had been shining moments before. It was the place prepared for Celestia's appearance. Where she was supposed to stand proudly, ready to raise the sun.
But no one appeared.
Silence fell like a heavy blanket over the crowd. A weighted, unsettling silence.
The mayor blinked, confused.
"Eh…?"
She looked around. Leaned to one side, then the other, as if Celestia might simply be running late, or maybe it was just some kind of ceremonial joke. But there was no sign of her.
Murmurs began to grow among the ponies. Some looked worried. Others just disappointed, wondering aloud if they'd done something wrong. If they'd started too early, if it was some technical mistake… anything to justify her absence.
But I knew the truth.
She was already here.
Only… it wasn't Celestia.
A laugh sliced through the air like a knife, filling the town hall from everywhere—and yet from nowhere. It wasn't a specific voice. It was an ancient vibration, reverberating in the walls, in the glass, in the chest of every pony present.
I felt how a dense accumulation of magic began to swirl above the moonlit balcony. The energy coiled like a silent storm until, all at once, it took shape.
There she appeared.
A mare.
No… an alicorn.
Her dark tones stood in stark contrast to the white figure everyone had been expecting. An ancient-style armor protected her chest, and her mane moved like a piece of the night itself, flowing without wind. The same overwhelming dignity I had felt moments ago was confirmed when I saw her… but it was different. Her laugh carried no warmth. Her bearing held no kindness. And her eyes… her eyes held no compassion.
Not like Celestia.
Even though she laughed, that laughter was empty. As if she remembered how to fake joy, but had long forgotten what it actually felt like.
My instincts reacted before my mind did. I sent a small magical pulse through the ground—barely perceptible. A coded message, directly to Big Mac. Just two words: "Get ready. Wait for signal."
We couldn't act yet. We didn't know if she was going to attack. And though her presence was powerful, intimidating even… she wasn't the real threat.
Celestia hadn't spoken of this figure as a danger. Not with the same urgency she used to describe that.
Because what truly worried me, what was beginning to press at the edges of my magical senses, were other presences. Not elegant. Not loud.
The ones crawling just beyond the town hall walls.
Grotesque beings.
Creatures whose magic was almost nonexistent, yet whose presence seeped through the cracks of the world like mold.
And they were hungry.
A ravenous hunger for what was inside.
The dark alicorn raised her voice, and all attention turned to her.
Her monologue rang out with the theatrics of someone who had waited centuries for this moment. Her words were ancient, deliberate… laced with scorn and power. No one dared to move. Every phrase from her lips sounded like it was carved in stone.
I, on the other hoof, couldn't stay still. My mind worked silently, projecting the anchor of the magical formation around the building, preparing to seal the place if things spiraled out of control. As I listened to her voice, I could feel those entities outside. They weren't part of her arrival. They weren't her allies. They were waiting.
Waiting for her to leave.
So they wouldn't have to keep pretending.
And right in the middle of all that… a letter manifested before me, appearing from nowhere with a soft magical hum.
Twilight didn't notice it. She was walking toward the podium, unafraid, as if she recognized the mare. I didn't stop her. She seemed to know who this was. Maybe she knew more than I thought.
But the important thing was the letter.
Its seal was unmistakable: Celestia. But what made me frown was its magical nature. Traces of space-time spells. It wasn't recent. It had been sent into the future… precisely for this moment.
I opened it immediately.
Inside, only a list.
Names. The names of the ponies who had been in charge of the event.
The same ones who, unknowingly, had become key.
The letter was simple. Nothing grandiose, no extra details. Just a direct statement: they—the girls who had organized the event—were the ones who would awaken the power needed to stop Nightmare Moon.
Nothing else was needed.
I understood immediately.
She was referring to the Elements of Harmony.
The letter burned to ash in my hooves as soon as I finished reading it. No room for doubt.
That was when Nightmare Moon—because there was no doubt now about her identity—vanished in a cloud of darkness. Twilight, still standing, was murmuring to herself with growing urgency… until her eyes lit up with clarity.
"I remember!" she suddenly exclaimed, turning to me. "There's a book! A book that talks about how to stop her!"
Her excitement was genuine. She grabbed my hoof, tugging me toward the exit.
"Come on, Wizbell!"
"I can't, Twilight!" I stopped her, firm but not rough. "I have to stay and help keep the situation under control. But I can give you this…"
I pulled out the necklace I had prepared in case something like this happened. She looked at it—part confused, part emotional. She took it in her hooves.
"He believed in me…"
That thought flickered through her gaze. It distracted her from everything else—from the strange, from the impossible. And for a moment, her face was filled with determination.
"I think I know what to do to stop her," she said confidently, and ran off.
Behind her, five more ponies followed. All familiar faces. The list. They were coming together. Maybe by instinct. Maybe by destiny.
A figure crossed in front of me, rushing after Twilight. Applejack.
Big Mac tried to intercept her immediately.
I stopped him with magic, shaking my head. I released him when he turned to look at me.
"Let her go," I said before he could fully stop her.
He gave me a serious, confused look.
"She's important. Celestia sent me a letter with a list of ponies. And Applejack… she's connected to this. I can't explain how, but they need to be together."
Big Mac snorted, frustrated. The idea was absurd. He knew it. I felt it too. But in the end, he closed his eyes for a second. His trust in the princess weighed heavier than his instinct as a brother.
With a motion of his hoof, he activated the formation.
The anchors responded immediately, sealing the area in a magical dome. Thankfully, no pony had left the building yet. The creatures outside remained still. As if they knew it wasn't their time.
She was still nearby.
Not inside… but not far either.
Close enough to keep them at bay.
And to buy us the time we needed.
The magic awakened.
One by one, the runes began to light up, filling with the power I had prepared in advance. First a soft glow, barely visible. Then more intense, until the lines formed a full pattern across the floor and walls of the town hall. Now everyone could see them: ancient, solid, secure.
A glowing star appeared above each pony present. It was the mark of the formation: identifying each one as a civilian, someone in need of protection.
Everyone was marked… except them.
The six.
They didn't receive the star, and it wasn't a mistake.
I had made a quick modification to the formation right after reading the letter. A necessary adjustment.
It mustn't stop them.
It mustn't interfere with their path.
The system recognized them as a separate category. It allowed them to move freely, unhindered, and even projected a protective veil over them. Not a physical shield, but something subtler: it rendered them invisible to the eyes of the monsters still lurking outside, hidden beneath the veil of night.
They were out there.
Waiting.
But as long as she—Nightmare Moon—remained near, they would stay still. Her shadow contained them. Her darkness calmed them… for now.
And I could only keep the formation active long enough for the six to reach where they needed to go.
Panic filled the town hall.
Screams, cries, desperate voices speaking of the end of the world, of death, of all being lost. Some curled up on the floor, others tried to find exits that were already sealed. Fear spread like poison.
I sighed in resignation.
I knew what I had to do.
With a flash of teleportation, I appeared at the podium where, just moments before, Nightmare Moon had stood. My hooves landed heavily on the wood, and in that instant, I released my magic. It wasn't aggressive or destructive. It was magic stored for a long time—deep, stable. And when unleashed, it didn't bring chaos. It brought silence. Peace.
"Celestia!!" someone shouted, hopeful.
But when they looked up, they only saw me.
And still… they listened.
Their eyes gathered around me, as if they had been waiting for a figure to tell them what to do. My magic, my magical mark, helped. Not because of power, but because of its nature: it harmonized the surroundings. It calmed.
I drew a deep breath.
"I present myself!" I said clearly, magically amplifying my voice. "I am Wizbell Star, apprentice of Princess Celestia!"
Silence.
"I understand the panic, the fear you feel. It's normal. But this is not the time to give in! Don't let fear paralyze you. Everything will be alright!"
Some ponies started breathing more slowly. Others simply watched me.
"Look up," I continued. "See the stars floating above you? They are the sign that you're being protected. You are inside a magical containment formation. As long as you stay here, you are safe."
I paused, letting the words settle.
"If you left loved ones outside… they will be brought in. This is now the safest place in all of Ponyville. I ask you to stay here, to remain together. Trust."
Ponies, as herd creatures, didn't need much more. Seeing others begin to calm down, that calm spread. It settled like a gentle breeze. Soon the whispers of fear gave way to hugs, to quieter tears, to shared silence.
Then the main door opened.
Flash stepped through, guiding an elderly pony who walked with slow, confused steps. As soon as he was seen, several ponies rushed toward him.
"Grandpa!"
The scene repeated twice more. And each time, those present reacted with gratitude, with relief.
Until someone spoke from within the crowd. A young voice, but firm.
"What can we do to help?!"
Everyone turned toward the speaker. The air filled with expectation.
They were waiting for direction.
They wanted to be told their place.
I needed order. Discipline. Structure.
"Let's get organized," I said from the podium, projecting my voice with magic. "I need a list of every pony present. Please, someone who knows how to read and write, help me start that record. Name, age, condition, and whether any family is missing."
Several ponies began to move with purpose.
"Another group, handle food and drinks. Sort what we have, ration it if needed. This night might last longer than expected while things get resolved."
My eyes scanned the room, seeking the youngest and the oldest.
"I need volunteers to assist our elders. Make sure they're comfortable, lying down, covered with blankets if available. No one should be standing unnecessarily."
I paused and shifted focus.
"And also… the foals," I added softly. "We need someone to entertain them. They're curious, full of energy, and they must not absorb more fear than necessary. Tell stories, invent games—whatever works. Distracting them is just as important as protecting them."
As groups began to form, I stepped toward the edge of the podium. I looked up at the ceiling, as if confirming something, and then I did it.
I activated the second formation.
The air vibrated with magical energy as the new runes lit up across the floor. This one wasn't for protection, but for stability. An anchor that would reinforce the dome, redistribute magical energy, and maintain emotional calm like a collective net.
"There's something else I must do," I announced, turning back to everyone. "You won't see me for a while. I'm going out to adjust the outer formation personally."
There were a few murmurs, but I raised my head with resolve.
"During that time, I ask you to stay here. No one should open that door. It can only be opened with magic, so don't force it. Don't go outside. No matter what you hear. This place is safe. Hold on to that."
I pulled from my hoodie a magic crystal. One I had charged with my own energy, similar to the one I used to enchant Bonny's toy.
I placed the crystal at the center of the podium and activated the runes engraved in its metal frame. The object began to float, releasing small pulses of magic in soft waves. They weren't defensive or offensive. They were soothing. Harmonizing.
A magic designed to bring comfort.
As the ponies began organizing themselves, their attention was no longer on me.
And that was good.
Now I could leave without distracting them.
...
When I stepped outside…
There they were.
Waiting.
Motionless, but not passive.
Twisted bodies, hollow eyes, deformed silhouettes, hidden behind forms that looked made of mist and exposed nerves. They didn't move like animals, but neither like ponies. Their shapes defied logic, and yet, they were real.
They couldn't advance. The formation held them back.
An invisible—but absolute—boundary kept them outside the perimeter. Some tested it, scratching with limbs that shouldn't exist, sliding tendrils or claws against the magical barrier. The field emitted a faint glow every time they were repelled.
They didn't shriek. They didn't roar. They just… persisted.
The seconds passed, and with them, more arrived. As if the magical beacon had ignited a silent call only they could hear.
The line of creatures grew.
They weren't attacking yet. But they didn't need to. Their presence alone was a warning: if the formation fell, if a single crack appeared, they would rush in without hesitation.
In the distance, Flash flew, free of the dome, following the assigned routes. The formation recognized him as part of the defense and let him move above the field. A reconnaissance ring. He stayed far from danger, but alert, patrolling the edges with discipline. He knew what he was looking for.
The girls had already left. They had crossed the door just in time, before this vision could touch them. Not one of them looked back.
I was glad for that.
None of them needed to see this.
This was what remained for those of us who stayed behind to hold the line.
"There's a lot of them…" said Big Mac beside me, his voice deep but steady, eyes fixed on the growing line of creatures beyond the invisible edge. His stance didn't waver, but his gaze was honest.
"Do we go on with the next part of the plan?"
I didn't answer right away.
We were at that critical point: deciding whether to act now or wait for more to gather. A premature offensive might not be enough… but waiting too long risked something stronger slipping in with them.
And then, Flash landed beside us, folding his wings in a sharp motion.
"Well… that's not a pleasant sight," he muttered, lowering his voice as he saw the size of the group gathered beyond the barrier.
His hoof scraped the ground in irritation as he watched the creatures claw at the magical defense.
"They're completely surrounding the northern and western perimeter," he reported. "And more are coming from the east. Slow, but steady."