“They have nothing but time,” Deadlight said, taking baby Roman in his wings with great care and returning him to the crib. That, like everything else here, had obviously been made by hand and with great care. The imperfections in the fresh wood lent it far more character than a perfect recreation of some historical artifact could’ve done. “Think about it, they’ve been mining for their whole lives, and now you have machines for that. Now they train for a war… well, some of them do. The rest just supervise robots, trying to pretend like they’re working. A pony needs purpose. A few weeks of vacation is fantastic, but a few months is a prison.”