It's early evening when you wake up, nauseous, with what has to be the worst stomach ache you've ever had in your life. There's a rhythmic clicking sound coming from somewhere. You can't get the taste of vomit out of your mouth, and your skin itches all over like that one time a few months back when you stayed out too long and got sunburn. All in all, you feel terrible. You raise your head a little and look around - it looks like you've been moved to the break room you ate dinner in last night, propped up on some of the seat cushions. Auriga is laid out similarly a short distance away, fast asleep.
 
Much to your relief, the clicking sound isn't a radmeter. Boundless is seated at the table, and it looks like she's moved her sewing machine out of her room. She's not wearing her coat, probably so that it doesn't get caught in the machine. Part of you just wants to go back to sleep; the rest decides that it's time to start coughing painfully. The green mare looks up from her work and gives you a big grin. She rises to her hooves and makes her way to your side. Without the coat to mask her shape, and in contrast to her slimmer sisters, it's really striking just how blatantly her belly, well, bellies outwards to her sides. She settles down alongside you, gently nudging your cheek with her muzzle. "Welcome back, hon. How do you feel?" You make a weak little shrugging motion. Just the way it feels to be turned inside out by radiation poisoning; no big deal.
 
Boundless smiles sadly. "Corona's gone to try and find some more RadAway for you. We didn't really have any reason to hold onto it until now." She glances over at Auriga, the purple mare's sleep apparently unbothered by your conversation. "We did have some sedatives, though. Auri's regenerating, but she needs her rest." Now that she mentions it, Auriga does look a little better. Her wing's still a mess, but the bandages are gone from her chest and her horn has a point again, if only a blunt one.
 
Eager for anything to take your mind off the way your guts feel like they're doing cartwheels, you lie back and ask Boundless about that - it's one heck of a convenience, being able to sleep off life-threatening injuries in just an afternoon. She nods, taking a little while to make herself comfortable, and ends up resting on her side, head resting next to yours. "You're not getting any worse, so I suppose we can chat for a while if you're feeling up to it." She pauses, collecting her thoughts, and stretches her forelegs. "All of our powers are a gift from our mother, the Goddess. Without her we would never have been drawn together as sisters. Many of us - the ponies we were - would have perished alone and afraid. We owe so much to her."
 
You press a little further. There's got to be quite a history there, right? Boundless makes a pleasant sound, but her patient smile turns a little mischievous. "So long as my little hero is comfortable with being told a bedtime story." Apparently sitting on death's doorstep after stumbling around in the dark for a couple of hours makes you a hero. Neat. You're not exactly in a position to be prideful right now, so why not? Can she tuck you in and get you a glass of warm milk too? Boundless giggles at that. "Not this time, hon. That would mean getting back up." She'll have to gloss over the sad bits - littler ponies than you are probably listening in. The big mare blushes faintly at that and shushes you.
 
"A long time ago," she begins, "Equestria was a very different place. Ponies of all kinds were ruled by two alicorn princesses. The most powerful and beautiful ponies of all, posessing all the strengths of earth ponies, unicorns and pegasi." You nod. So far, so ancient history. "Celestia and Luna. Some believe that they still protect Equestria, even though they don't walk amongst the other ponies any more," Boundless continues, closing her eyes. "But Equestria was a land at war, with enemies that wanted to slay the princesses, believing them to be monsters. The Great War lasted for years, and the ponies became more and more desperate. One unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, found an answer. Putting all Equestria's knowledge of arcane science together, she found a way to grant the powers of an alicorn to anypony. An alicorn army could end the war, overwhelming Equestria's enemies with precisely the powers they feared."
 
So Boundless and her sisters are part of some... magical supersoldier program? She shakes her head, shifting her weight softly as her foals move and ruin her comfortable position. "Not quite, hon. The day testing was to begin on its first volunteer was the day the bombs fell; the day Equestria came to an end. Twilight never had the chance to build her army. But as the land was bathed in fire, a miracle took place. The first volunteer didn't just survive - she was reborn. In the very crucible of Twilight Sparkle's masterwork, the mare that once called herself Trixie became something far more than an alicorn. And to save their lives, she invited Twilight and her staff to join her in a new form. Immune to the ravages of age, of radiation. Connected in a telepathic Unity. Together, they ascended to become the Goddess." She pauses to take a breath, which turns into a low yawn midway through. "We, her daughters, were remade in her image over the years. The Goddess welcomed anyone to join her Unity. Not 'true' alicorns as such, but reflections of the Goddess, sharing in her powers and the powers of those that became her."
 
You get the feeling that Boundless might be sugar-coating things, but keep your thoughts to yourself. There's an element of happy reminiscence in her voice; no point in risking offending or arguing with her right now. You do have a question about that last part, though - she hasn't mentioned a single stallion in the entire story. Does the whole alicorn mutation deal only work on mares?
 
Boundless pats your shoulder, smiling gently. "More accurately, the process only *produces* mares. For all her might, the Goddess was created by accident. There were... problems." She glances back at her swollen belly, caressing it softly as she takes a fonder tone. "An entire race of ponies, unable to breed naturally. But - well, I suppose rules are made to be broken, aren't they?"