“Mina, this is madness!”

“No, Moon —” Mina springs out of her perch on the armor suit’s flattened palm, swinging her sword down in an arc towards the cornered group of Butterflies. “THIS! IS! JUSTICE!”

“No, it isn’t!”

Moon is nearly thrown off her feet by the pulse of energy unleashed as purple wings sprout from Eclipsa’s back and she raises six arms above her head, where a bubble manifests to catch Mina’s sword. “My daughter has done nothing wrong but be born into this world as the child of a monster and a human, and I will not let you hurt her because of that!”

Meteora still hangs in Eclipsa’s baby carrier, hands balled up into nervous little fists. “Di dow?”

“That’s a lie! You saw with your own eyes how dangerous she’ll grow up to be!” Mina shouts, taking another swing at the barrier. “Queen Solaria would neutralize that threat to Mewmans at the first chance she got —”

(Somewhere in the Realm of Magic, something stirs.)

“— and SO WILL I!”

Mina’s next blow bounces off the bubble once again, but on her third swing, two more Solarian Warriors join her, and inky purple cracks begin to spread across the bubble like a spiderweb. Before the fourth swing can come, though, Star shifts into her Butterfly form and braces her hands against the other side of the barrier, orange sparks repairing the cracks as she and Eclipsa furiously beat their wings in perfect sync, generating a windstorm that seems to knock a few Solarians back — though they regain their balance quickly, and continue to rain down blow after blow.

“This can’t be sustained!” Moon cries, hardly even able to hear her voice over the roar of the wind, or the grating screeches of swords striking a magical barrier. “We have to —”

We have to what? Surrender didn’t work. Fleeing is impossible — Hekapoo closed the portals. Fighting is hopeless —

All of this is my fault.

Star was right — I am a traitor. A traitor who’s going to get people killed —

She knows that she should try to do something, help somehow — but there’s nothing that can be done to stop what she started, to undo what she created. Her grip on the wand tightens, and tears run down her cheeks.

After everything we’ve been through, my daughter is going to die —

A second voice joins in, a remorseful whisper that emanates from far away at first, but starts to grow steadily louder, each word echoing in Moon’s mind for longer than the last.

My daughter is going to die, and it will all be because of me. Because of all my distrust, and all my bigotry.

The tears cascade to the ground, forming a pool at her feet.

…I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.

The pool erupts into a column of golden light that envelops Moon, lifting her off the ground — and she lifts someone else up with her, too.

***

Eclipsa is stunned right out of her Butterfly form as the bubble explodes, lit up from within by a beam of light that pierces the top of the dome and stretches towards the sky. Bolts of blue electricity coil around it, jumping from Solarian to Solarian and knocking them all back, until the golden glow dissipates to reveal the figure standing at the column’s base.

It’s Moon… but also not Moon, not entirely. Her eyes stay closed as her braid levitates behind her in an invisible wind, and her glowing cheekmarks are not the usual diamonds, but rather lightning bolts.

“M-Mom?” Star whispers, and Moon opens her eyes.

They glow a uniform white, no irises or pupils to be seen, but her diamonds reappear as the lightning bolts rise off her cheeks, floating just above her head as a transparent, ghostly face appears behind them — eyes just as featureless as Moon’s, but also just as determined and fierce.

The spirit has a square face, and a shaved head except for a single braid that floats in the air, mirroring Moon’s. The red jewel of her crown catches the light even in her phantasmal form, and golden bands engraved with hearts encircle her arms.

Eclipsa would recognize her anywhere.

“Stop this at once, Mina,” Moon and Solaria command in unison. “Leave our daughters alone.”

“Whaaaat?!” Mina stumbles to her feet, staring at Moon in awe. “Queen Solaria, is that you? You’re really here?!”

“Here to stop you.”

“Wha— what do you mean?” Mina turns around, gesturing to the army of Solarian Warriors, and then back to the queens. “This — this is what you wanted, isn’t it? Freedom from the threat of monster invasion?”

“We were wrong about what we wanted, Mina.” The gaze of both queens drifts towards the ground for a moment, but they pull themselves together to look back up and stare at Mina in the eye. “We just want our families to be safe…”

They glance to Meteora, who’s watching them in fascination, and smile sadly.

“And sometimes, monsters are family.”

“You — you’re losing it in your old age, Queen! Either that, or — or Queen Moon’s corrupting you! Monsters are a scourge upon the kingdom — you said it yourself! — and I’m gonna GET RID OF ‘EM once and for all! Just give the word, and I’ll —”

“Enough!”

Moon’s feet lift off the ground, Solaria’s ghost sinking back into her form once again as her cheekmarks turn back to lightning bolts and her wand begins to change. A flaming blue blade erupts out of the crystal, the hilt transforming to show a diamond bisected by a lightning bolt, and the queens hold their sword in one hand as a golden thread appears wound around their free index finger.

“Undo the thread the spell would hold, the bindings now unwoven,” they chant, eyes closed and voice solemn. “What fury shapes the soldier’s mold, now fades away unspoken.”

They twirl in midair as the thread unwinds, curling around their blade as they raise it above their head.

“NO!” Mina shrieks, and somersaults back into the pilot seat of her armor suit to guide it forwards, arms reaching for the wand. “My lady, you CAN’T! They’ll turn on you the second you look away —”

Moon and Solaria run their sword through the chest of Mina’s armor. The fire ripples all across the figure, solidifying into thin, glowing tendrils that ensnare its limbs and send it toppling to the ground.

“Remove the strength that comes in floods, your essence now restored! Return the power paid in blood, and rest forever more!”

They swing their wand above their head one last time as a blue aura washes over the battlefield, and suits of armor crumble one by one, red-bladed weapons flickering out and tumbling to the ground. A groan emanates from inside Mina’s suit as she struggles to simply lift the visor, but the queens turn their wand into a crackling blue whip that they use to rip it off the helmet altogether.

“Your oath is henceforth annulled,” they tell her, Solaria’s spectral form floating above Moon once again. “Now leave Mewni. Don’t let anyone here see your face again.”

Mina looks down at her arms, now mortal and flimsy, and then back at the queens, biting her lip for a moment before she breaks eye contact and scampers away.

“Good,” Moon and Solaria murmur. Then slowly, they turn to face their daughters, huddled together with Marco in what remains of the Monster Temple’s balcony.

“Gwa-ma?” Meteora coos.

“We’re so sorry,” the queens whisper, heads hanging down in shame.

“You saved us,” Eclipsa murmurs. “The both of you, Moon and… and Mother…”

“We created those monsters. We inspired their rampages. Stopping them was the least we could do…”

They pull their daughters into an embrace, Star in one of Moon’s arms and Eclipsa in the other.

“You two are both so much better queens than we could have taught you to be,” they say, both their voices trembling.

Solaria ruffles Eclipsa’s hair with a ghostly hand, and Eclipsa looks up to make eye contact with her.

“We’re so proud of you.”

Solaria’s eyes finally lose their blank white glow, revealing dark green irises in which golden sparks flicker like fire. Alone, she adds:

I think our time is up, but I have so much more to say, to apologize for…

“Mother, it’s… it’s okay.”

I’ll see you again someday, Eclipsa.

Her form lifts away from Moon, slowly fading as she smiles down at the others before at last disappearing in a yellow flash, leaving a few honey-colored droplets of magic suspended in the air.

“Not too soon, I hope,” Eclipsa whispers, wiping eyeliner-clouded tears from her eyes, “but… yes. Someday.”