“Admit that I was right.” “Luna, you’re not helping!” Celestia screamed, conjuring yet another fire extinguisher before proceeding to combat the flames that steadily poured in through the throne room door. The heat was intense, but the princess stood her ground. Behind her, in the crumbling throne room proper, her inconsiderate sibling quietly sipped from a porcelain teacup, a smug grin plastered on her face. “Admit that I was right, [i]then[/i] I will help you.” Celestia ignored her and continued her feeble struggle against the flames. Rolling her eyes, Luna conceded that she needed to act, magically invoking the doorway floor to rise up, until an enormous wall of stone sealed them both away from the chaos outside. “Sister,” Celestia growled, her composure hanging by a thread. “That’s not going to put out the inferno currently raging throughout the castle.” “I was merely concerned for your safety, Tia.” Luna took another sip. “Fire is hot. Remember that, it will be on the upcoming test.” It took all of Celestia’s willpower to not blast her sister into the back wall. A puff of steam blew from her nostrils. “I can’t believe you! You’re making jokes at a time like this? All of Equestria is literally on fire! Bandits are raiding towns, ancient evils are terrorizing the countryside, and Princess Twilight is nowhere to be found!” “And all of this could have been avoided, had you simply listened to reason.” “Don’t you dare--!” Luna donned her most mockingly convincing Celestia voice. She looked off to the left, crossing her eyes. “Oh, but think of all the time you and I will save when we outsource to the bureaucracy! We can tour Equestria together as sisters, inspire the nation with our personal take on leadership, and level with our citizens, not as princess to commoner, but pony to pony, while our legion of information custodians deliver only the most necessary intelligence to us.” She turned her head to the right, her voice returning to normal. “But sister, that sounds like a lot of needless automation. Our jobs are not that difficult, and bureaucracies tend to be unreliable. Surely you’re trying to solve a problem that doesn’t actually exist?” “Luna, I swear--!” To the left again. “You can never be sure of anything, Luna. The bureaucracy can be trusted. We need only give them a chance. It’s not like any link in this chain consisting of thousands of overworked, underpaid ponies who couldn’t care less for the safety of Equestria could ever fail to deliver critical information, like...d’oh, I ‘unno, bandits raiding towns, ancient evils reawakening and terrorizing the countryside, or even a corrupt accountant swiping every last bit from the royal treasury with a bothersome paper trail of forged royal documents. How crazy would that be?” To the right again. “Tia, you’re starting to scare me.” To the left again. She cackled this time. “Ho-ho! I am the eldest sister, and have ruled Equestria for a thousand years in your absence! My decisions are the best decisions. Nopony makes decisions better than me! Therefore, we are going to trust them almost unconditionally. It’s not like I’m growing senile, or anything. Not at all! Be a dear, sister, and pass me my medication. I’m going to take it while I stuff my face with neapolitan ice cream in the bathtub tonight.” The older princess was visibly seething with suppressed rage, only to be pulled free from her boiling temper as the entire castle shook when a nova of dark magicks flattened half of Canterlot, followed by the maniacal laughter of some once-banished dark lord echoing amidst the pandemonium. At this rate, there wouldn’t be an Equestria left to save if Luna wasn’t at her side. “...fine.” Celestia sighed. “I admit it. You were right. Will you help me now?” “Hmm...” Luna quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t believe you.” She conjured a stack of papers, all of them written diligently in what could only be described as legalese. A quill and ink well appeared. “Read and sign these please, in triplicate. I’ll have them sent through the queue and let one of my information custodians judge if your confession is genuine in my stead.” Celestia gave her a flat look. “And when we’re all dead before then, when can I expect an audience with Princess Luna’s ghost to let her know just how stubborn she was?” “With a bureaucracy like yours in place...” Luna shrugged. “On a date to be determined, I’m sure.”