Discord turned out his empty hands. “Sorry, TI-84. Could if I would. But that isn’t how this works.” He rose to his full height—he shouldn’t have been tall enough to even fit inside the Wing of Midnight’s pony-sized hallways—but he stood straight somehow, towering over them. “What do you think my purpose is? To build an ideal society for the residents of Equus? To prevent you from causing each other misery? Exactly how granular do you want me to be? Enslaving a nation is too much, but should I stop every murder? Should I stop every word from the mouth of an abusive lover, perhaps? Should I stop ponies from even thinking mean things about one another?”