Orderly Chaos

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 1

A sigh of relief passed through Twilight’s muzzle as she stepped inside her library home, an equally relieved smile on her face. Her day had been a picture-perfect example of convenience. So far, in a rare moment of time management, she managed to get everything on her schedule completed in a nice, timely manner. No distractions, no sidetracking, no citywide catastrophes. She was, for all intents and purposes, as happy as could be.

As she took off her saddlebags, placing them off to the side, she giggled. Only Ponyville could make staying on schedule feel like a breath of fresh air. Granted, she didn’t really spend as much time with her friends as usual, but she didn’t let it bother her that much. After all, it wasn’t like she was putting her punctual needs before them; they all had their own things to do as well. She was certain that they’d all agree that today in particular ran especially smoothly for all of them.

“Spike, I’m home!” she called, approaching her desk.

Taking a look around the library, it looked like Spike did a pretty bang-up job cleaning up the place while she was gone. The shelves were dusted, the books rearranged, and the trash emptied.

Even before she stepped inside her home, she could smell the aroma of a well-prepared lunch wafting from the kitchen. Spike always did have a knack for hay fries, and he no doubt had a nice daisy sandwich to go along with it. Simple, but hearty all the same.

The clattering of pans and silverware against the countertop rang from the kitchen before Twilight’s young assistant poked his head through the doorway. “Hey, Twilight. I’m making lunch.”

Twilight took in a deep breath, breathing in the scent. She could already feel her stomach growling. “Mmm, I can smell it. You’ve gotten good at this.”

“Yeah, well… I’ve had a lot of practice,” he sheepishly replied. “Anyway, just gimme a few more minutes, and they’ll be ready.”

“I can’t wait. I’m starving.” As Spike ducked back into the kitchen, Twilight turned her attention back towards her desk. While Spike was still busy preparing their meal, she figured that she’d at least get some studying in. She was almost positive that she was on her way to better understanding how the Everfree Forest functioned. Maybe she’d even be able to quell some of the more ridiculous myths surrounding the place, if only to ease the fears of the many ponies who believed them. She just needed to do a quick look over of the notes she’d taken so far.

Twilight’s eyes scanned across the contained mess that was her study area, searching for those papers. A slight frown cracked onto her face as she scanned over her desk again. That frown twisted into a worried grimace as she looked over her desk a third time. Then a fourth. Then a fifth.

“Where are they?” she softly asked.

She lifted several books, pushed aside various other notes and broken quills, but the fact remained the same. She couldn’t find her notes.

Undoubtedly at the worst possible time, Spike walked back into the lobby. “Alright, lunch is—” He couldn’t so much as get his other foot through the door before he narrowly avoided becoming closely acquainted with the pointy end of a quill as it embedded itself in the wall next to him. He could do little more than stand, frozen still, as he laid eyes on the frantic mare sitting at the desk before him. She had that crazed look in her eye, one that Spike knew all too well. “Um… Uh, oh.”

“Where are they, where are they, where are they?!”

Spike could only cower behind one of the only untouched chairs in the room as all manner of tome, quill, and paper went flying through the air. Taking a chance, he risked a glance over his protective chair in an attempt to calm the panicked unicorn. “I-I put ‘em in the—” A not-at-all girly yelp left the young dragon’s mouth as he ducked underneath another brick of a book.

After emptying the bookshelf, effectively undoing hours of baby dragon labor in a few short minutes, Twilight turned her attention towards the next most logical location. Well, about as logical as her frazzled mind would allow. Putting her nose down to the ground, she skittered her eyes across the floor, looking underneath the soon-to-be upturned furniture and behind her soon-to-be-upturned bookshelves.

“It took me months to gather up those research notes!” Twilight exclaimed, searching through her trashcan. Or more like, tossing the trashcan’s contents across the floor in the hopes that she’d recognized any of the crumpled balls of paper as her treasured notes. “They might give us more insight into how the Everfree Forest functions! I need to find them!” Twilight’s eyes, twitching and crazed, switched back to the aforementioned soon-to-be-upturned furniture.

Spike pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt the beginnings of a throbbing ache in his skull. Was that a headache? It felt like a headache. “Put away the papers, you said. She’ll love the extra effort, you said.” His heart nearly leapt up to his throat as he heard the loud, distinct sound of a heavy piece of furniture being upturned.

That pained throbbing in his skull returned in full. It was a headache. Definitely a headache.

With Twilight going through another 'episode', Spike made the decision that any smart dragon would make. He sat behind the safety of his chair and just let nature run its course. As he waited, however, he could’ve sworn that he heard some kind of bang. An explosion even. It didn't come from inside the library; he doubted it even occurred in Ponyville. It was faint, muffled, as though it came from far away. From the sound of it, it likely did, but even so, the instant he heard it, he felt… something. Some kind of wave of energy rushing right over him. He felt an undeniable chill run up his spine, but just as quickly as it appeared, the sensation vanished.

The whole thing happened so quickly, Spike hardly noticed it at all. Still, if he felt it, then he supposed it was only reasonable to believe that Twilight felt it too, assuming that she registered anything during her little fit.

Slowly, Spike poked his head back over the chair. “Uh, Twilight? Did you feel that?”

“Yes!” she cried.

Spike breathed a quiet, relieved sigh. “Alright. So, do you know what it—”

“Here they are!” Twilight yanked her research notes out of her desk, where they had been all along during her small, destructive search. The instant she wrapped her notes in a lavender aura, that crazed tick in her eyes disappeared in a flash. The errant strands of hair sticking up from her mane practically fixed themselves. With order properly restored, she turned a calm, warm smile towards her young assistant. “Now, what were you saying, Spike?”

Incredulous, unintelligible stutters were all that Spike could muster before he regained the ability to speak. “I... But... Didn't you...? Y'know what? Never mind. I'll just... go get the broom or something.”

Nopony would be able to explain why, but the weather around Canterlot had always possessed a curious way of maintaining a picturesque state of pleasantness that was worthy of envy. It was rarely ever too cold or too hot. Even during the pouring torrents of a rainstorm, the area always maintained its divine glow as the sun’s rays shone through the dark grey clouds. Whether it was due to the pegasi simply kissing up to the princesses or Celestia’s very presence, the weather about the castle always retained its clear blue skies and bright, shining sun. This day in particular was no different.

To add to the serene scenery, a pair of literal lovebirds fluttered about the great, white castle, coming to a graceful landing on a mountainside windowsill. The two daintily skittered towards each other, taking each other in a warm nuzzle. The male of the pair stared into the loving eyes of his partner. Those eyes of hers, sparkling like the purest of gems. He’d give anything just to get a hold of a single gem to match those beautiful eyes.

Then he grew a pair.

No, he didn’t finally muster up the courage to ask his partner to be his special somebird(?) for life. He literally grew a pair of diamonds, the gems protruding from his head like tiny goat horns.

His partner could only watch, wide-eyed, in equal parts shock and confusion as her partner struggled against the newfound weight to keep his head up. Despite his efforts, it was only a short matter of time before he found himself falling face first to the ground.

The cause of such an odd phenomenon? A single glance off to the side would reveal a certain draconequus uninterestedly leaning against the window of his tiny room, head propped on a bored hand. Admittedly, a smile did crack onto his face as he watched the bird attempt to overcome the weight of its newfound appendages, but it did little to take away from the overwhelming monotony.

Though Celestia did grant him a room in which he could freely play out all of the chaotic whims that the space allowed, the space didn’t allow much. He could only turn the walls, floor, ceiling, table, couch, cups, plates, and bed into so many different things. It was doomed to grow dull eventually, even for him.

Most would think that an entity of pure chaos would find it very difficult to get bored. Granted, not much of Equestria’s population let such odd thoughts enter their mind, but if for some reason they were thinking that, then they would be right. Boredom and Discord weren’t necessarily things that went well together.

Admittedly, the threat of boredom was at least a good motivator to keep the chaotic entity thinking creatively. As wonderfully enjoyable as it was, there were only so many smiles to be gained from exploding chocolate milk. A cup of exploding chocolate milk going off in the middle of a line of combustible lemons, however? That was a nice way to keep the spark from burning out. It was also an excellent way to make lemonade.

Alas, the draconequus found it rather difficult as of late to alleviate his boredom, primarily due to those pesky restrictions Celestia placed on him. Something of a sneer cracked onto his face as he remembered what one of those restrictions was: Leave any and all of Equestria’s inhabitants untouched. That included birds. As much as he enjoyed annoying Celestia, there were certain lines that he'd have to cross on another day. This, unfortunately, was one of them.

With a faux disappointed sigh, Discord snapped his fingers.

The affected bird promptly turned back to… not normal. The diamonds disappeared, yes, but they were replaced by a pair of foam horns instead. Discord raised a perplexed eyebrow; though he absolutely adored things that didn’t make sense, he was less fond of things that didn’t make sense to him. Though he didn’t necessarily want to, he did try to turn that bird back to normal. That very clearly didn’t happen.

He brought his confused gaze down to his clawed hand. “Hmm. Well, that’s new,” he muttered.

Gripping the offending appendage, he screwed it off, looking it over with a pair of large, scrutinizing eyes. “Is this thing broken?” After giving it a few customary shakes, he screwed his hand back on, rotating his wrist around just to make sure it was in place.

Giving it another go, he snapped his fingers again. His face twisted into an annoyed grimace as the bird’s foam horns were replaced by a pair of chocolate wafers.

An agitated sigh left his mouth. “Well… This is happening now.” He was about to try again, but couldn’t help but notice the birds helping themselves to the wafer horns. It wasn’t exactly the most efficient way of getting rid of the problem, but as far as Discord was concerned, it was a solution right up his alley. At least it would be dealt with in due time.

That still left Discord with the issue of figuring out why exactly that little ordeal just happened. Leaning back against the windowsill, he stroked his chin while he pondered on the issue. “This is certainly peculiar,” he muttered. “Odd, and not in the way that I like. Hmm.” Discord needed a nice swig of glass, if only to calm his nerves.

With a snap of his fingers, a glass of chocolate milk appeared before him. Stroking his beard, Discord took a small sip. As the liquid draped across his tongue, his eyes shot wide open before he spit it back out. A look of utter shock exploded onto his face as he laid eyes on the glass before him. Things were worse than he though. Far worse. At first, he simply thought that he was having an off day, that due to some unforeseen circumstance, he was suddenly rusty with his magic. That wasn't the case, far from it, something that only became even more apparent as he stared at the cup of milk before him.

He didn’t drink the glass. He drank the actual milk.

At long last. At long, long last. They’re finally perfect.

Doughnut Joe inhaled the sweet scent of victory emanating from his oven as he slowly pulled the metal door open. The familiar wave of heat slamming into his face only further fueled the joy burning inside of him. Oven mitt in mouth, he carefully, oh so carefully, pulled the metal tray out from the hot, square canvas. If anypony saw him, they’d think he was handling a precious, fragile gem. But not only was what he was carrying far more valuable to him than any inedible gem, he didn’t even want anypony to see him. He couldn't be seen, not like this, not until he was ready to explain things for himself.

“Honey, what’s that smell?” a voice called from upstairs.

The beige stallion froze in place. Quickly, he placed the metal tray on a nearby counter. “Nothing, dear!” he shouted. “I’m just, er… baking. Baking doughnuts, of course! And nothing else.”

“It doesn’t smell like anything you’ve ever made before, but that wouldn’t be a first. Just hurry, you’re going to miss your programs.”

“Yes, dear!” With a heavy sigh of relief, he turned his attention back towards the six beauties adorning his tray. Six gorgeous morsels, perfectly round, their golden brown surfaces shining in his kitchen light. They said that he could never do it, but they were wrong. Doughnut Joe had just created six perfect bagels.

It was impossible for him to tear his eyes away from his creations, from his labors of love and dedication. Simply looking at them filled him with such a joy that he had never experienced before. Even then, however, that wasn’t enough to override the battle waging in his mind. Ever since he was young, his parents ensured that he lived up to his name; after all, his name was Doughnut Joe. His cutie mark was a doughnut. If anypony were to discover this, what would they think? Would they exile him as a laughing stock, as somepony who simply couldn’t follow the standards placed upon him by society? Was it worth placing his business, his relationship, in jeopardy to follow his true dream?

Slowly, Joe walked up to a nearby window, staring out in the vast, blue skies that Celestia’s day so generously gave him. This was not a question that he could answer himself. He needed help. And there was only one pony he knew that could give him that help.

“Princess Celestia, please. I beg of you. I must know this answer. Should I follow through with this? Should I put everything that I have at risk to follow my dream?”

At first, nothing. But mere seconds later, it seemed as though his question was finally answered.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!”

At first, the stallion shrunk back in fear. As he loosened back up, still shocked, his face twisted into a dejected frown as he slunked back towards the fruits of his hard labor. He wanted his answer, and he supposed that he received it. With a disappointed sigh, he threw his bagels into the garbage.

“I was never good at making bagels, anyway.”

Chapter 2

A sigh of relief passed through Twilight’s muzzle as she stepped inside her library home, an equally relieved smile on her face. Her day had been a picture-perfect example of convenience. So far, in a rare moment, she managed to get everything on her schedule completed in a nice, timely manner. No distractions, no sidetracking, no citywide catastrophes. She was, for all intents and purposes, as happy as could be.

“Spike, I’m home!” she called, approaching her desk.

As she neared her desk, she couldn't shake off the odd sense of familiarity itching at the back of her mind. Huh. Déjà vu, she thought. She didn’t let her bother very much, though. She had been a busy mare for the past few days. It only made sense if things felt a bit samey. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time that the feeling hit her.

The clattering of pans and silverware against the countertop rang from the kitchen before Twilight’s young assistant poked his head through the doorway. “Hey, Twilight. I’m making lunch.”

“No.”

Snap.

“No.”

Snap.

“No!”

Snap.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” A more-than-agitated sigh escaped Discord’s mouth after his, what, umpteenth attempt at conjuring a nonsensical creations of utter chaos that he actually wanted to conjure. Unfortunately for the irritated draconequus, that was anything but simple. Days of effort later, and he was still faced with trouble. As much as he loved chaos, even he drew a line somewhere. His forte generally revolved around controlled chaos, oxymoronic as it sounded. Chaos without control was similar to watching an out of control lawnmower wreak havoc on some poor soul’s property.

Yes, it would be nice if it eventually drove itself into said poor soul’s living room by complete chance. Yes, it was amusing for a time. Yes, Discord could’ve been the reason why the lawnmower was out of control in the first place, but there was always an added sense of satisfaction if he could just steer it into the living room himself, rather than leave it to chance. That was a similar case, except instead of a lawnmower, it was his very chaotic power.

His ‘little slice of chaos’ certainly lived up to its name, as it was practically filled up to the ceiling with chaotic little objects. Porcelain plates flapped about the room, giving off the occasional tweet. Magazines and other books hopped across the floor like frogs or wriggled like worms. Discord’s own bed was quite literally a water bed, the small body of water retaining its bedlike shape, save for the ripples. Plaster was virtually nonexistent in his room, his walls, floor, and ceiling all being made out of some wondrously delicious combination of chocolate, cheese, cake, and other confections. All of these chaotic creations, yet there was one thing that Discord didn’t have that left him annoyed.

He did not have a ball. It wasn't even that he tried to create a ball made of diamonds, magic, or the tears of young foals. No, he simply wanted a round clump of rubber, evidently something that a higher authority deemed him unworthy of obtaining. Discord, in all of his powerful, chaotic glory, could not for the life of him conjure an object that any child with half a brain could purchase from the nearby marketplace.

That, as they said in old Canterlot times, was simply and completely unacceptable.

“Well, isn’t this just inconvenient?” he muttered. Power without control was not something that Discord appreciated, not one bit. It was one thing if others were annoyed by his antics, but if he himself grew annoyed with what were technically his own creations, intentionally created or not, then something was severely wrong.

Still, he supposed that it wasn’t all bad. Some chaos was better than none, and it at least added some unpredictability to his power. After all, what was chaos if not unpredictable? If it didn’t end up fixing itself in the near future, he supposed he could get used to it. After all, it wasn’t as though things could get worse.

“Oh, well. What can you do?” he said with a shrug. With something of an amused grin, he snapped his fingers yet again, anticipating whatever creation he’d unintentionally conjure next.

Then things got worse.

What greeted Discord was not the familiar, grand flash of light that preceded his creations popping into creation. It wasn’t even a mundane flash of light. Rather, there was no flash of light at all. There was no new object. Instead, a few meager green sparks flew from Discord’s finger tips.

Discord did little more than stare down at his hand with a look so stern it was surprising that his hand simply didn’t will itself away. He snapped his fingers again, as though that would fix things. He did it again. And again. And again. Each snap was more frustrated than the last, and each one yielded the same, miserable sparks. He himself almost didn’t want to believe; it actually took him a moment to process what this meant. “Well, this is…”

In the blink of an eye, dozens of his chaotic creations all became not-so-chaotic with an accompanying pop.

“…bad.”

His plates crashed back to the floor, shattering to pieces. His books ceased movement, flopping back to the floor with a thud. His walls all changed from their edible materials back into their boring, white plaster. His bed and couches all turned back to their ordinary selves.

Everything around him, all of his creations, turned back to… normal.

Tossed back into the dull normalcy that was his room, Discord only stood there, his face twisted into an irritated scowl. “And now apparently this is happening.” Was he shocked? Was he confused? Was he terrified? He himself didn’t know. He only knew two things. One, he was very, very annoyed. Two, and even more inconvenient, without his own magic, fixing this mess would prove considerably difficult. He’d need help. He just needed to decide on who.

Admittedly, that did bring something of a smile to his face. He already enjoyed annoying the countless inhabitants of Equestria, and now he had a perfectly reasonable excuse to do exactly that.

Humming merry tunes to himself, Discord rummaged underneath his bed. A smile on his face, he pulled out a large sheet of parchment. Unfurling it, it revealed pictures of several different ponies, including, but not limited to, Celestia, Luna, and of course, young Twilight Sparkle. After pinning it up to the wall, he dug inside a nearby drawer, pulling out a single dart. “With so many choices, I couldn’t possibly make the choice myself. Now, then, let’s see who the lucky one is.”

Discord placed a paw in front of his eyes as he took aim with the dart. With nothing left in the way of distractions, he haphazardly tossed the dart towards the chart. After hearing the telltale thud, he eagerly peeked over his paw. If there were hints of a smile on his face, they were quickly erased when he saw who his dart landed on.

Princess Celestia.

A humored chuckle left Discord’s lips as he walked up to the chart. “Yes… No. Maybe some other time, Celly.” He unceremoniously yanked the dart out of the wall and planted it onto another pony, this one far more appealing to Discord. Little Twilight Sparkle. “And it seems we have a winner!” he exclaimed. “Ponyville, here I come.”

Without another word, he dove out of the nearby window. Despite plummeting towards the unforgiving ground below, Discord wore a calm, cocky smirk as he lackadaisically snapped his fingers. The green sparks that flew from his fingertips was a much-needed reminder of his current predicament. It also made him aware of something that came just bit too late: Jumping out of that window was a terrible, terrible idea.

Something was odd.

A sigh of relief passed through Twilight’s muzzle as she stepped inside her library home, an equally relieved smile on her face. Her day had been a picture-perfect example of convenience. So far, in a rare moment, she managed to get everything on her schedule completed in a nice, timely manner. No distractions, no sidetracking, no citywide catastrophes. She was, for all intents and purposes, as happy as could be.

Yet something was still odd.

If one were to merely glance at her, then yes, they would assume that she was content with the events that unfolded throughout her day. What they wouldn’t be able to notice, however, was the storm of panicked thoughts rushing through her mind.

Again, something was odd. Very odd.

This day, this example of immaculate time management that flowed like clockwork, was one that had repeated itself over and over and over again, each event unfolding in the exact same way, at the exact same time. In fact, this day in particular must’ve been the fourth—no, fifth—no sixth!—repetition in a cycle that made a straight block of wood look like a winding trail of twists and turns.

Twilight couldn’t explain what the cause of such a linear cycle was; she didn’t even know when it began in the first place. It must’ve been some time last week when she noticed the strange repetition that persisted day after day. At first, she merely thought that it was just a case of déjà vu. It wouldn’t have been the first time she felt its effects, especially since she was already a devotee of routine. As that sense of familiarity continued throughout the rest of the week, however, Twilight couldn’t help but feel that something was off.

The day always played out in the same order. She woke up at exactly seven in the morning, ate breakfast at exactly seven-thirty, studied from eight-thirty to noon, and so on and so forth. Now, as the clock landed on three in the afternoon, Twilight found herself returning home after a simply invigorating stroll around Ponyville, giving out the same exact greetings to the same exact ponies that she found in the same exact places.

The feeling was strange. She knew that the days were repeating themselves to an uncanny degree. She knew that she must’ve been trapped in some kind of loop. She also had a fairly good feeling that the rest of Ponyville, maybe even the rest of Equestria, knew this as well. If they did, or if Twilight was just some odd exception to this sudden, new rule, she didn’t know. None of her friends, or anypony for that matter, could express their worry, as that would no doubt go against the day-to-day routine that they’ve been forced to follow.

If it was some type of loop, it was one in which Twilight had no control. While her mind was free to think and free to process the repetitive stimuli around her, she had no control of her body or even her own voice. Everything she did, from waking up in the morning, to speaking to whomever she spoke to, was done entirely against her own free will. She simply went through the motions, and this day was no different. Not in the slightest way.

Even before she stepped inside the library, she could smell the hay fries that Spike was cooking. What she couldn’t smell, though, were the daisy sandwiches that he prepared as well. But she knew that they’d be there. They were always there. Had been for the past week.

Speaking of Spike, next came Twilight’s call to him. “Spike, I’m home!”

As she heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet coming towards her, she slipped off her saddlebags and placed them in their spot in the corner. Twilight was certain that she saw a clear spot where she kept placing them day after day.

After the seven steps it took for him to reach the kitchen entrance, Spike poked his head out into the lobby. The smile on his face was no wider or softer than the previous days before. Next, he’d say, “Oh, hey, Twilight. I’m making lunch.”

Twilight looked up at her young assistant, her warm smile betraying the raging storm inside of her mind.

Now, I say ‘Mmm—’ “—I can smell it. You’re getting good at this.” He’d better have been getting good at cooking it. He’s been doing it for the past week.

The rest of the conversation was so predictable that Twilight simply blocked it out. Even then, she was able to follow along perfectly as she followed Spike into the kitchen. She couldn’t help but allow a passing thought as she wondered if she’d finish her meal in more or less than forty-seven bites this time.

As she took her twelve steps to the kitchen, the dull, repetitive monotony was broken by what sounded like a muffled thud right outside the front door. Normally, such a noise would hardly be enough cause for concern, but in this particular scenario, it was more than enough, and for one simple reason. Twilight had never heard such a noise in the previous days before. It was something different.

Oh, if she could, she would’ve spun around on the spot and rushed outside just to see the source of this simple, yet routine-breaking noise. Had somepony finally broken out of this never-ending loop of monotony? Who could have done it? How could they have done it?

Unfortunately, such questions would have to go unanswered. Despite her inner desires to go see what that noise was, her body continued on into the kitchen, that smile of hers not wavering for a second, as though she never heard the noise at all.

No! Turn around! Turn around! she mentally screamed. Yet she didn’t. Her eyes simply scanned the table before her. Two plates, one topped with a daisy sandwich and hay fries, the other, a few chunks of gems.

As Twilight sat down at her kitchen table, soaking up the homey aroma of a home-cooked meal, another series of noises moved about her home, just outside the library walls. They sounded like footsteps, as though somepony was circling the library, trying to find a way inside.

Never in Twilight’s life did she ever wish for something as simple as turning her head, but she would’ve given anything to just glance out the blasted window. But if memory served correctly, her eyes wouldn’t go anywhere near the kitchen windows. At the most, she could spy a single window out of the corner of her eye, but that was it.

“So, Spike. How was your day?” Twilight asked before taking a bit out of the top-left corner of her sandwich. She never realized before, but she rarely asked Spike that question before this… incident. It was a nice question to ask, yes, as it showed interest in her assistant’s affairs, but it was just so mundane.

More times than not, Twilight would come home to a dragon with a smile that was slightly too innocent and an enthusiasm that was slightly too great. More times than not, Twilight would simply ask him ‘What did you do now?’ and that would be how she learned of his day, as well as why her library walls were sporting a few new holes.

Regardless, Twilight and Spike enjoyed their lunch, chatting away as they had the exact same conversation they had for the past eight days. As she stared into his eyes, Twilight could’ve almost sworn that she saw a glint in Spike’s eyes, one that screamed ‘Help me’. He certainly had her condolences.

At around the sixth bite of her sandwich, Twilight caught something. Whether it was simply sheer luck or her mind finally beginning to crack, she saw something appear in the kitchen window that she herself could barely see. It couldn’t have been a normal part of this odd loop, she would’ve noticed it days ago. It was something else. Something different! Her mind raced with joy at the prospect that somepony found a way to break out of this loop. If she could just talk to them. Heck, if she could just see who it was!

As she and Spike continued with their lunch, this newcomer banged on the kitchen window, no doubt trying to get Twilight’s attention. They certainly had her attention, but she couldn’t turn it towards them unless it was part of the routine. It wasn’t. From her less-than-convenient perspective, all she could derive was that this visitor was gray. That didn’t really narrow it down.

As the mysterious visitor continued banging against the window and waving their arms, there was but one thought rushing through her mind, one that she sorely wished she could just shout to the heavens.

The window is unlocked. The window is unlocked. The window is unlocked.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be a thought that crossed the mind of her surprise guest. The screams inside of Twilight’s mind could shake Canterlot Mountain itself as she saw her visitor duck out of sight.

No. Don’t leave. Please come back.

“So, what are your plans for tomorrow?” Spike casually asked, munching on a piece of topaz.

Shut up, Spike.

Luckily for her, not many seconds ticked by before her wish was promptly granted, though perhaps not in the way she imagined.

A trashcan flew through her window.

If Twilight didn’t know better, she might’ve thought that her eye twitched ever so slightly as glass shards scattered across her floor. That might’ve just been the minor aneurysm.

“Ah! Well, that worked! And they said I needed a key.”

If it could’ve, Twilight’s fur would’ve stood on end as that voice invaded her eardrums. Out of all the ponies—no, all the species—in Equestria, why, in sweet Celestia’s name did it have to be him?

Oh, no. Please leave. Don’t come back.

Discord, with a wide, all-too innocent smile on his face, slithered his way through the shattered kitchen window. “Twilight! Just the mare I was looking for!”

Chapter 3

For quite some time, Twilight believed that her situation couldn’t get any worse, what, with being trapped in an endless loop and all. But as that gray, mismatched draconequus slithered his way through her shattered window—which he had better pay for!—she knew that she was sorely, sorely mistaken.

Discord stood up, towering over Spike and Twilight as he smiled down on the pair. Though it was an odd thing to notice, Twilight couldn’t help but note that the dastardly spirit of chaos was looking oddly out of breath, as though he just finished running.

“I bet you weren’t expecting to see me today,” Discord said, leaning on her table.

Though the table gave slightly under his weight, neither the unicorn nor the dragon even glanced up at him as they continued with their meal. That didn’t necessarily mean that Twilight didn’t have an answer.

That’s putting it lightly, she thought.

Unfortunately, despite his impressive, chaotic repertoire, mind-reading was not amongst Discord’s list of skills. As far as he was concerned, Twilight gave him a shoulder colder than a windigo’s freezer. He hardly took the gesture politely, if his annoyed frown was any indicator. “Oh, come now. I know that you and I aren’t on the best of terms, but that’s no reason to be rude. Hmph. And ponies say I’m the bad one.”

He still received no response from the unicorn. Instead, she finished the last of her meal, promptly levitating the empty plate over to the sink. “That was delicious, Spike.”

The dragon grinned, hopping out of his seat, his own empty plate in hand. “Glad you liked it.”

Discord merely rolled his eyes as the cheery scene played out before him. “Oh, now you’re just being inconsiderate,” he chided, not that Twilight reacted in the slightest, as much as she wanted to.

Oh, believe me. I wish I could give you a piece of my mind right now, she thought.

Discord hovered next to Twilight as the alicorn trotted back into the lobby, rubbing his beard in faux contemplation. “Oh, I see,” he finally said, a grin spreading from ear to ear. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you? Well, if you want it that badly, then you can have it.” He promptly reached down and gripped a leg. He gave it a nice tug, only to grunt in pain as the limb refused to pop off. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. What now?” he asked, exasperated. He tried the same trick again with one of his arms to no avail. “Well, that’s just…” Against his better judgment, he gripped his head before giving it a hard yank.

Though Twilight wasn’t looking directly at him, she still heard his neck crack loud and clear.

“Ack! Oh, that hurt!” Discord blurted out, snapping his head back into place.

What’s wrong with Discord? Twilight thought to herself. She knew something must’ve been wrong when someone failing to detach their own limbs was actually cause for concern. At first, she believed that he was the cause of all this; it certainly wouldn’t have been much of a surprise. Yet, he seemed just as clueless as she was. Literally, out of the loop.

After working out the kinks in his neck, Discord set his eyes back on the alicorn as she sat at her desk. Twilight heard the old spirit huff in irritation as he crossed his arms. “So this is the welcome that I can expect now, hmm? I run all the way from Canterlot to see you, and you don’t even give me the time of day.”

The more that he spoke, the further Twilight’s curious mental eyebrow rose. Wait. He ran? Why would he run? So many questions swirling around in her mind. If only she could actually ask them.

“Why, if I didn’t know better,” Discord continued. “I’d think that you don’t enjoy my company. It’s enough to bring a tear to my eye.”

Twilight mentally winced when she heard Discord snap his fingers, no doubt ready to conjure whatever chaotic whims he had in mind. Yet while that was undoubtedly his intention, Twilight didn’t hear nor feel any magical flash, as though nothing happened. She promptly heard another series of snaps, each one growing in frustration until she heard the spirit yield with an exasperated sigh.

“Hmph. Oh, well. I need to practice crying on cue anyway,” he said, placing his handkerchief-less hands behind his back. “So, Twilight,” he calmly began, pacing behind the alicorn as she feverishly read through the same four hundred eighty-seven pages of the same textbook for the eighth time in a row, “is there any particular reason for this wondrously warm welcome?” If there was any more sarcasm crammed into his voice, it’d be dripping from his chin.

You have over a thousand years’ worth of wisdom under your belt, Twilight mentally snapped. You figure it out!

“Let me guess,” Discord continued, a single talon scratching his chin, “you either don’t want to talk to me or you can’t. Well, am I right?”

Technically, it’s both, but you’re on the right track.

Though her eyes never left the textbook, Twilight saw Discord’s distinct mug out the corner of her eye as he came uncomfortably close to her face. “Well, I suppose there’s only one way to find out if you’re silent by choice or not.”

…Wait, what?

Discord slipped out of Twilight’s vision, only to saunter back into it as he approached one of her bookshelves.

What are you doing?

Casually, as though he was just another customer, he plucked a book from its place on the shelf. After licking a single finger, he flipped through the book’s numerous pages, eyes lazily scanning over the words. “My, my,” he said, faking interest. “This is such a lovely book on…” He glanced at the spine. That fake interest quickly turned genuine as a crooked smile cracked onto his face. “…the Butterfly Effect! Oh, incredible! I didn’t even try this time!” A dreamy sigh passed through his lips before he fixed an impish gaze on the stationary alicorn. “This must be a rather valuable book in your collection. Well preserved. Early edition. Must be centuries old, yes?” Slowly, tauntingly, he gripped a single page in between two fingers. “It would certainly be a shame if something were to happen to it.”

If there was one thing that this loop was good at, it was masking the raging emotions rushing through Twilight’s mind at any given time. In this case, if she could, she’d have burned down her library with the fierce glare she was imagining. Don’t. You. Dare.

Twilight was certain that she felt a part of herself die a little as she heard the heart-rendering cry of a page as it was cruelly taken away from its leather-bound shelter. The single, worn sheet of paper dangled helplessly from Discord’s talons as the draconequus leered straight at the alicorn, expectant. “Oops.”

His eyes slowly widened in amusement as the alicorn didn’t even flinch. Not even in the slightest. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that she didn’t react.

I’m… I’m going to… I’m going to do… something. Not now, not even soon. But I will do something. Eventually.

After an impressive number of seconds ticked by without a response from Twilight, a throaty chuckle left Discord’s lips as he strutted back to the studying alicorn. “So, this is more serious than I thought. Can’t say that I’m surprised. I’m caught in the middle of a rather… awkward situation myself.”

Twilight raised a mental eyebrow as the words rang in her head. What is he talking about?

“Oh, but now I’m getting ahead of myself. I may enjoy a captive audience as much as the next spirit of chaos, but it’s no fun if the audience ignores me, is it? Let’s fix that. Hopefully, I can still pull this little trick off.”

Discord held up a single talon, channeling his chaotic magic into the digit. It wasn’t a large amount; just enough to send sickly green electricity arcing about it. Sly smirk on his face, he the pointed the finger towards the unwitting alicorn. Perhaps he should’ve made her aware of his plan, but that would’ve been nice of him, and he didn’t need anyone thinking that he was getting soft now, did he?

Wait, wait, wait. What’s that noi— “OWW!”

If Twilight had even the slightest of hopes that the rest of her time with Discord would be pleasant, those hopes were promptly zapped away when she felt a sharp sting jolt through the fleshier parts of her flank. ‘Blindingly furious’ couldn’t even begin to describe the glare she shot the mischievous spirit.

“The window. Was. Unlocked!” she snapped.

Discord took a single step back from the seething alicorn, though his smirk didn’t lessen in the slightest. “Hmm. So, it was,” he said, glancing back towards the window in question.

The damage was hardly catastrophic. Glass shards still littered the floor, counter, sink, and just about everywhere else, though they did glisten in the sunlight, giving the room a sense of divinity. Granted, the trashcan resting in the middle of the room did ruin that illusion a bit, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was something that only he could truly appreciate, unlike certain other high-strung purple alicorns that would go unnamed.

Regardless, the sight elicited little more than a shrug from the mischievous entity. “Ah, but what can you do?”

The fire burning in Twilight’s eyes only grew fiercer as she gestured towards the front door. “You could’ve just walked through the front door!”

Evidently, the idea of using the door as a way of entering someone’s home was an alien one to the ancient spirit. Discord looked up at the aforementioned front door, eyebrow raised in confusion. “I thought it was locked.”

Twilight’s hoof found its way to her face with a very audible ‘clop’. “It’s a public library,” she slowly explained. “During the day, the front door is always unlocked!”

With an interested hum, Discord placed his hands on his hips. “Is that right? Well, you learn something new every day.”

A sharp pang of pain shot right through the side of Twilight’s head. An annoyed groan left her lips as she rubbed her head. The headache was already beginning to set it. “You didn’t even try the doorkno—” Were it any other day, any other scenario, Twilight would’ve continued laying right into Discord, but in this particular instance, all of Twilight’s anger flushed away as she made a shocking, almost mind-boggling realization.

She was out of the loop. “I’m out of the loop.”

“Well, I suppose that makes two of us,” Discord said, crossing his mismatched arms. “Now, would you mind shedding some light on this little situation of ours?”

Discord’s words just barely registered in Twilight’s mind as her eyes snapped up to him. “What? No, no, no! You don’t understand.”

The spirit cocked a curious eyebrow. “I don’t?” A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Care to enlighten me then?”

Twilight, still frazzled, didn’t even catch on to Discord’s smarmy tone. “I don’t really know when it first started, but… but something made everypony—”

“Fall into a seemingly endless loop of daily routines that are about as exciting as the local porridge?”

For a few seconds that felt far too long, Twilight just stared at the spirit. Finally, that sly smirk of his finally registered in her mind. Instead of flipping into another annoyed rage, however, her face simply fell flat. “You have something to do with this, don’t you?”

Her words may as well have been arrows that pierced Discord to his very soul. With a shocked, melodramatic sigh, the draconequus recoiled, holding his hands up to where his heart was supposed to be. “Twilight! I am hurt that you would even think such a thing!”

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

Discord’s shocked façade immediately disappeared. “Oh, but of course. But it’s not like I did any of this on purpose. For once.” Despite his not-very-best attempts at appearing innocent, his little charade managed to convince precisely no one. Though he did see a dubious smirk flash across Twilight’s face, so at least he mustered some type of reaction.

“Mhmm,” Twilight hummed, her doubt as apparent as the sun against a pitch-black sky. “And what exactly is happening?”

Discord took a moment to stroke his chin. “Well… how do I put this in a way that you’ll understand?” If he saw Twilight roll her eyes, he didn’t show it. “There is a very good, one hundred percent possibility that chaos may or may not be disappearing from Equestria.”

A chuckle was already leaving Twilight’s muzzle before Discord even got the words out, already convinced that whatever drivel leaving his throat was deserving of said chuckle. Then the words actually registered in her mind. Her smile slowly disappeared, going flat once again as her mind processed what she had just heard. “What?”

“It’s true,” Discord stated matter-of-factly. “How else can you explain what’s been happening over these past few days? Slowly falling into a dull, repetitive, orderly cycle day after day? Why, that’s just positively… bland.”

Twilight remained silent, allowing the words to bounce around in her head. Chaos disappearing from Equestria. A world without unpredictability, where she and everypony else would know exactly what was going to happen before they happened, without even the slightest discrepancy. For a pony like Twilight, such a thing could’ve sounded heavenly. It could’ve, but she already experienced what such a world was like. Dull, dreary, and so, so, so boring. It didn’t make things any less confusing, however.

“How did that even happen?” she asked.

With another hint of foal-like innocence, Discord slowly rolled his eyes. “Funny story, that.”

“Come now, ‘Tia. I know you can do better than that.”

“Yes, sister! Cease this dillydallying and overpower your foe with the intensity of a thousand suns! Knock him, as they say, into the next millennium!”

“Not… helping… Luna.”

With white hoof and lion paw locked, Celestia and Discord engaged in a battle of raw strength, one that would forever shame the white alicorn were she to lose. Luna merely stood by, both as a witness and a referee, as she watched the fiercest hoof-wrestling match to ever be engaged.

The white marble table quaked and trembled under the immense pressure of the battle, but while it seemed as though Celestia was giving it her all, her alabaster cheeks flushing red with exertion, Discord lackadaisically leaned against the table, his arm not budging an inch.

What could have possibly sparked such a heated battle? Several things actually, but the match itself began with a simple bet.

After one too many pranks and one too many quitting servants, Celestia and Luna reluctantly decided that perhaps it’d be best to give Discord some free time of his own outside of the castle. With restrictions, of course. When they brought their plan to the draconequus, he was thrilled at the prospect, though there was, of course, a thing or two that he wanted to change. The sisters only wanted to allow Discord one measly hour out and about, whereas Discord would go for nothing less than five. Of course, disagreements flared, and from the flames of their arguments, a bet arose.

If Discord defeated the two sisters in a hoof-wrestling match, one right after the other, then he would receive his five hours of freedom. However, were he to lose to just one of them, not only would he only have one hour, but his pranks in the castle would immediately come to an end for an entire year. Discord himself came up with that last bit, if only to spice things up a little.

Admittedly, most ponies would've tried to reach some kind of fair consensus without having to resort to such wagers, but then again, most ponies did not have to deal with Discord on a daily basis. Not only was reaching a ‘fair consensus’ impossible with that spirit, but after having to endure his pranks day after day for the past several months, an entire year without his antics sounded absolutely heavenly. It was an offer that neither sister could refuse.

Unfortunately, that possibility was threatening to disappear before their very eyes as Celestia struggled to overcome the spirit’s strength. He had already defeated Luna despite the younger alicorn’s best effort, and Celestia was hardly faring any better.

“Oh, I do wonder what lovely pranks I’ll pull after this,” Discord tauntingly pondered. "Maybe I'll throw some more poison joke into the mix. Those things do give lovely results."

“Do not allow his tauntings to distract you, sister!” Luna encouragingly shouted. “You have overcome far worse than this beast!”

“Beast?” Discord cast an offended glance towards the dark blue alicorn standing by. “Honestly, Luna, I thought we had gotten past name calling. Very unsportsmanlike of you.”

With the spirit distracted, Celestia unleashed a mighty battle cry as she doubled—no, tripled—her efforts. It seemed that her efforts were to be rewarded as Discord’s hand came dangerously close to the table. Unfortunately, just as victory seemed to be within reach, Discord’s hand stopped just short of the table. The battle wasn’t over yet.

“Well, aren’t you the sly one?” he asked. A fleeting sense of hope flashed through Celestia’s eyes as she noticed Discord’s calm exterior give a little as he strained to keep his hand up under the immense pressure. He was actually struggling.

“Just give up, Discord,” Celestia said, a smile finally creeping across her face. “You won’t win, not this time.”

“Oh, I beg to differ. I still have one trick left up my sleeve. This little bout of ours is far from over.” Putting on a simply sinister grin, Discord channeled a frightfully large amount of chaotic energy to his right hand, the appendage bursting into fierce, green flames. Almost immediately, the difference in strength became painfully apparent as he soon gained the advantage, nearly bringing Celestia’s hoof down to the table.

“No!” Celestia cried. Her own hoof burst into orange flames as bright as the sun itself, leveling the playing field. “I will not lose, not this time!”

“Ah, now it’s a battle!” Discord exclaimed. His battle-craving smile spread from ear to ear as he and Celestia locked eyes in a gaze that only true rivals could muster. The entire room trembled due to the sheer force of the match, bits of marble crumbling down from the walls and ceiling. It was only a matter of time; either one of them would give, or the room itself would.

The battle raged on, neither side giving a single inch, the seconds ticking by at a snail’s pace. However, it was only a matter of time before it became clear who fortune favored on this particular day.

The exertion, the ferocity, the sheer heat emanating from the pair as they attempted overpower each other soon got to Discord. Small drops of sweat formed on his brow, building up until they began to trickle down his face. Soon enough, one such drop of sweat found its way to the worst possible place it could go: right into his eye. The salty liquid stung just enough to not only force Discord to shut his eyes, but to also yank his attention away from the battle.

That was a mistake.

At the very last second, Luna cast a protective barrier around herself just as a powerful wave of energy slammed into her, though she still felt trickles seep through her shield. All manner of dust and debris brushed and bounced against the inky blue barrier as the room endured something of a miniature explosion. Undoubtedly, it shook the entire castle to its core, if not the entirety of Canterlot and beyond.

Soon, the smoke began to clear, revealing the aftermath of Celestia and Discord’s friendly, little match. The entire room was reduced to little more than a deep, deep crater, bits and pieces of marble still crumbling down as they succumbed to gravity’s influence. The table was all but demolished, the only remaining traces of it being the numerous bits of white marble littered about the destructive scene.

At the very middle of the crater sat two powerful, yet dirt-splotched entities, though it was clear which one had the edge over the other. Celestia’s white hoof sat triumphantly on top of Discord’s own hand, the latter of which was buried into the floor.

Slowly, the white princess stood up, smoothing out her ruffled feathers and shaking the dust from her form. With a victorious smile, she stared down at the wide-eyed Discord. “Discord,” she calmly called.

It took him a moment, but Discord’s eye finally shifted to meet Celestia’s own. “Yes?”

“I won.”

Discord stroked his beard as he brought his story to an end. “At least, I’m sure that’s when this all started.”

Despite his grandiose descriptions, Twilight’s face still screamed skepticism. “A hoof-wrestling match? Really? That’s what caused all of this?”

“A very heated hoof-wrestling match,” Discord corrected.

Twilight remained woefully unconvinced.

“I’m serious,” Discord insisted. “Releasing that much chaotic energy at once is bound to have lasting effects on the surrounding area. Surely, you felt the effects. I’m sure that most of Equestria did. Actually, what were you even doing a week ago?”

“I was—” Twilight’s face, once so flat and disinterested before, exploded into an expression of sheer shock as the memories of that particular day came rushing back.

“No, no, no! Twilight, don’t throw that!”

“I was… cleaning.”

Discord raised an interested eyebrow as he leant in closer. That dubious little smile of his spoke louder than any words possibly could. “That was all?” he teasingly asked.

“It was vigorous cleaning,” Twilight insisted.

With a playful roll of the eyes, the spirit leant in even closer. “Are you certain?”

Twilight herself leant in until their noses met, her fierce gaze staring right into Discord’s eyes. “Very. Vigorous. Cleaning.”

Finally, the draconequus backed off, not necessarily believing the story, but amused enough to drop it. “Ah, who cares about those little details now, anyway? I prefer to live in the here and now, and right now, we are faced with a problem. In fact, I think this little ‘epidemic’ of ours—if you can even call it that–affects me the most.”

For the first time in a while, a small smirk cracked onto Twilight’s face. “And that’s a bad thing?”

With a huff, Discord crossed his mismatched arms. “Well, I think it is, unless you enjoy this never-ending chain of monotony. Well? Do you?”

“Er… Point taken,” Twilight begrudgingly yielded. “How are we supposed to fix this then?”

“Well, it’s really quite simple,” Discord reassuringly stated. “We just have to bring the chaos back.”

Considering how confident and matter-of-factly Discord was in making that statement, one would think that Twilight would’ve been in the same boat. She wasn’t. Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, with it being Discord and all, but he just left the mare hopelessly lost. “What?”

Discord, happy as ever, clapped his hands together. “Doesn’t that sound like such fun?” he eagerly asked.

“But can’t you just do that thing you did to get me back to normal?”

Discord shook his head with an almost worrying amount of energy. “Nope. As I said, my magic is nearly gone, so that was a one-time deal only. If we want to fix this, we’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.” With a dignity-draining squee, the ancient entity began skipping about the library. “Oh, this will be wonderful. I can show you all of my little tricks. Honestly, this is something of a rare occasion, if I do say so myself. It would certainly be a shame if you missed out on it.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Twilight quickly said. “How do you even know that I want to help? Why not go to somepony like Celestia if you want this solved?”

Discord slowed his excited skipping to a halt. “Really, Twilight? Celestia can be such a bore, especially when it comes to things as small as preserving the safety of her pwecious kingdom.” Discord’s face scrunched up out of faux-disgust, ignoring the glare he received from Twilight. “Besides, I feel that there’s a lesson to be taken from this, one that only you would appreciate. You do still appreciate the occasional lesson, right?”

“Forget it, Discord. I don’t know what you have planned, but I know it can’t be anything good. If you want to fix this, you can do it yourself.”

Instead of falling right into a state of quasi-disappointment, Discord simply took a deep breath before standing upright in a more professional posture. That devious smirk of his still refused to leave his face. “If you insist. I’ll just take my leave.” Without another word, without even some unnecessary zaniness behind his gait, Discord walked right out of Twilight’s library. He even used the front door, ducking underneath the doorframe before closing it shut.

Twilight, for a moment, could only stand there, staring at the door with suspicious eyes. “That was… easy,” she said. “Too easy.”

And she was right to think so. The library was quiet for the next few seconds, save for the bustle outside, but it was only a matter of time before that was no longer the case.

“Oh, my goodness! Just look at all of this knowledge!” Discord cried out. From the sounds of it, he was right outside the front door, and he made absolutely certain that Twilight could hear him. “My, oh, my! I could take away so many lessons after being exposed to so much knowledge! Why, I certainly wish that there was somepony else here with me to take in all of this knowledge!”

Twilight truly believed that she had gotten over Discord and his antics, but a single twitching eye was all it took to prove that that was far from the case. “He’s going to be out there all day, isn’t he?”

“Oh, I could just stand here and absorb this knowledge all day!”

“Of course,” Twilight sighed.

She could’ve just placed a soundproof barrier around her house and call it a day, but as she thought on it, she supposed that she couldn’t, in clear conscience, sit back while her friends and the rest of Equestria suffered from this brain-rotting monotony. And she certainly couldn’t rest easy knowing that Discord was the only one who could actually do anything to solve it. Besides, by tagging along, she could make sure that he didn’t do anything to make matters worse. Since he evidently lacked any magic, the odds were tipped in her favor. And if he did talk too much, she could just cast a muzzle over his mouth.

With a heavy sigh, Twilight walked up to her front door. This was going to be a very, very long day.