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Description
Image imported from derpibooru
Original Description:
www.fimfiction.net/story/48289…
The steel gate led directly into the Star Swirl the Bearded Wing of the Canterlot Archives, the most secure section of the entire castle. Twilight’s jaw fell, as did Spike’s and Pinkie Pie’s. The three of them had a special history with the place ever since Twilight believed the world was going to end on a specific Tuesday. Not her best moment, but history nonetheless. In a way, they all had history with the place. By the looks of it, nopony had been inside since Star Swirl wanted to organize and study his most precious spells. Not since the Pillars of Old Equestria’s return had the wing been opened.
Celestia and Luna had led them there for a reason.
The guard nodded to Twilight and unlocked the door for them, the steel gate squeaking open slowly. The metal was old and rusted, signifying the room’s age with dust particles dancing in the rays of sunlight, all of which fell through the windows and reflected from the massive hourglass in the heart of the room.
Approaching that very same hourglass, Celestia and Luna shocked the Council when they ignited their horns and fused their magic with it. Suddenly, the sands within the glass began to float, began to hover, and proceeded to slip to the top of the hourglass. Like the sand was falling up. Like gravity had been reversed. The sand kept rising, kept filling the top of the hourglass until the very last grain had risen. By then, the magic was complete. The lock was opened.
The floor broke apart and the hourglass hovered slowly above it all.
Beneath the hourglass, the large hole only grew wider and wider by the second. The floor was fused with that ancient magic and the marble, the carpet, and everything was moving accordingly to make way for the darkness beneath. A staircase was opened, unveiling several torches lined against the descending walls in a circular fashion. The stairs led below ground. The torches lit their way.
Though Twilight and the Council were still shaken by what they had witnessed—especially Twilight for never having known such a magic was infused with the archives to begin with—she was nonetheless led down into the dwellings beneath the wing. Below ground, the darkness grew so thick that everypony could actually breathe it in and nearly suffocate on it. The air was old, dusty and spoiled. Their hooves clacked across the stone surface of the floor, escaping the hold of the descending, spiral staircase and into a pitch-black basement.
Upon their arrival, the magic flowed in the air and ignited the torches. They were all burned to life from where they hung on the walls, illuminating a decades-old secret to the ponies.
And from that, they gasped. Their eyes widened. Their jaws fell.
Pictures, relics, fragments of the past and of T.I.T.A.N. were scattered across the walls. They rested in bookshelves, documents organized neatly while others were meshed about on various tables. Disorganization was key to the room they were in, no true sense of order or control dominating the abandoned tomb of past knowledge. The magical fire from the torches brought to light the pictures stamped on the boards across the walls, and soon every eye was drawn to them. Basking in that glow, breathless in that wonder, and shell-shocked in the revelation that followed.
Twilight asked, “Celestia… what is this?”
Upon those walls, upon that chaotic display of knowledge and questions without answers, the grainy photographs of Godzilla were prominent most of all. The massive cave painting of Godzilla battling Ghidorah over a blistered and broken world was even more so.
Original Description:
www.fimfiction.net/story/48289…
The steel gate led directly into the Star Swirl the Bearded Wing of the Canterlot Archives, the most secure section of the entire castle. Twilight’s jaw fell, as did Spike’s and Pinkie Pie’s. The three of them had a special history with the place ever since Twilight believed the world was going to end on a specific Tuesday. Not her best moment, but history nonetheless. In a way, they all had history with the place. By the looks of it, nopony had been inside since Star Swirl wanted to organize and study his most precious spells. Not since the Pillars of Old Equestria’s return had the wing been opened.
Celestia and Luna had led them there for a reason.
The guard nodded to Twilight and unlocked the door for them, the steel gate squeaking open slowly. The metal was old and rusted, signifying the room’s age with dust particles dancing in the rays of sunlight, all of which fell through the windows and reflected from the massive hourglass in the heart of the room.
Approaching that very same hourglass, Celestia and Luna shocked the Council when they ignited their horns and fused their magic with it. Suddenly, the sands within the glass began to float, began to hover, and proceeded to slip to the top of the hourglass. Like the sand was falling up. Like gravity had been reversed. The sand kept rising, kept filling the top of the hourglass until the very last grain had risen. By then, the magic was complete. The lock was opened.
The floor broke apart and the hourglass hovered slowly above it all.
Beneath the hourglass, the large hole only grew wider and wider by the second. The floor was fused with that ancient magic and the marble, the carpet, and everything was moving accordingly to make way for the darkness beneath. A staircase was opened, unveiling several torches lined against the descending walls in a circular fashion. The stairs led below ground. The torches lit their way.
Though Twilight and the Council were still shaken by what they had witnessed—especially Twilight for never having known such a magic was infused with the archives to begin with—she was nonetheless led down into the dwellings beneath the wing. Below ground, the darkness grew so thick that everypony could actually breathe it in and nearly suffocate on it. The air was old, dusty and spoiled. Their hooves clacked across the stone surface of the floor, escaping the hold of the descending, spiral staircase and into a pitch-black basement.
Upon their arrival, the magic flowed in the air and ignited the torches. They were all burned to life from where they hung on the walls, illuminating a decades-old secret to the ponies.
And from that, they gasped. Their eyes widened. Their jaws fell.
Pictures, relics, fragments of the past and of T.I.T.A.N. were scattered across the walls. They rested in bookshelves, documents organized neatly while others were meshed about on various tables. Disorganization was key to the room they were in, no true sense of order or control dominating the abandoned tomb of past knowledge. The magical fire from the torches brought to light the pictures stamped on the boards across the walls, and soon every eye was drawn to them. Basking in that glow, breathless in that wonder, and shell-shocked in the revelation that followed.
Twilight asked, “Celestia… what is this?”
Upon those walls, upon that chaotic display of knowledge and questions without answers, the grainy photographs of Godzilla were prominent most of all. The massive cave painting of Godzilla battling Ghidorah over a blistered and broken world was even more so.
Godzilla & Ghidorah (c) Toho/Legendary
My Little Pony (c) Hasbro
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