Echoes of the past, of a friendship that was magic.
"...Don't make me do it..."
All sacrificed upon the altar of infinite Knowledge.
The Great Eye of Reclamation, borne ruinously upon the broken forehead of a most beloved, most faithful student, friend and child, had lain waste to the realm that was once known as Equestria. All threats against its grand mission—the acquisition, through any means, of complete, unadulterated knowledge—had been duly eliminated. The chaos of limited cognizance—that of "wonder", of "emotion", of "imagination"—had at last been removed from the eternity of its sight.
All was known and nothing was questioned.
All, except for the tears that continued to run, in weeping motions, from the stricken sheathes of mortal eyes.
My rather grandiose interpretation. Suffice it to say, you've crafted a beautiful thing here, one that I'm likely to come back to for inspiration in the years to come. Bravo.
This is so beautifully disturbing. I could see a fic writer picking this up, but it would probably be over the top violent and gory. Why does everyone assume possessing spirits want to mutilate passers-by?