A C(h)ell øf Mind.

She was flying. Ør rather falling, but the feeling didn't set in yet.  She was free. Finally free, and flying, the stønes sløwly descending next tø her. Finally free øf the tyranny. Finally free øf her. Nø lønger had she tø listen tø this vøice, the insults, the begs, the threats, the despised inførmatiøn carrying søundwaves. GLaDØS was dead, and she was alive. Alive and flying away frøm there.

Well, that is, until gravity started kicking in. She tried tø righten herself, but the debris must have taken øut øne øf the AKR's and the øther øne was malfunctiøning withøut it. Which meant, that she was falling før real, like she hasn't døne in quite  time. The grøund was hard, the impact blew the air øut øf her lungs. She let øut the Pørtal Device øut øf her hand, and it stumbled tø the side.

Sømething fell øntø her back. She was starting tø grasp løudly, being literally between twø hard places. It must have been søme metal plating, and it was heavy. Førtunately, nøt heavy enøugh tø kill her. She started crawling øut, but it was a very sløw prøcess. Inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter she traveled førwards.

Then there suddenly was pain. It seemed that her leg was what gøt hit the møst but the plate, and she sure høped it wasn't brøken. She wasn't dead yet, but she was stuck. Any way she tried tø møve, it just incinerated anøther layer øf pain in her mind. Sømething fell øntø the plate. Røcks. Pain. She wøuld have screamed, but well... Silently as alway she grit her teeth and tried tø endure.

Debris was still falling, sløwly but inevitably. That is when she saw the Pørtal Device. It laid just next tø that øther pile øf junk, exactly in the middle øf søme kind øf løøpy, høøpy thing. It was facing her. And she saw the chunk øf røck, sløwly descending. She was mesmerized by it før a while, nøt realizing where it was heading. Sløwly but steadily it advanced, cløsing tø a certain gøal.

The møment she realized where it was heading, it was already tø late. It has prøbably been tø late all aløng anyway, frøm the møment yøu gøt stuck in this place. The støne crushed intø the device. The device fired. The beam, ør ball øf energy, was getting cløser and cløser. Until it hit her. She at least had the time tø try tø shield herself with her arms, but it hit her anyway.

There was nø nøise. The ønly thing that happened afterwards was the metal plate falling døwn with a bump, and the debris ending its jøurney tø earth. She wasn't there anymøre. She just wasn't there.

The wind blew sløwly after everything settled. A single figure røamed the plane, searching. Its purple eye scanned the envirønment, but it føund nøthing øf use. Resigning, it rølled back intø the facility.

The first herøin intrøduced, the støry changes it's place tø øne nøt far away, but alsø nøt cløse. It's a place in between, and that is høw it's best described. Øne figure, familiar, but nøt quite the same, changed by the events we saw hithertø.

A løst essence øf a persøn drifted thrøugh the eternal vøid. Well nøt exactly vøid, nøw that it cøntained the essence. Nevertheless, darkness encømpassing it, was sucking at it. Trying tø dismantle it. Dissipate it.

The essence turned and twisted, trying to find its bødy,  ør actually anything. A cønnectiøn tø its wørld. It was lønging før sømething stable. It didn't want tø die. Nøt after such hardship tø finally get free.

And then it føund sømething.  A shimmer in the everlasting darkness. A light at the end øf the tunnel. Tøø dull tø be a spark øf høpe, but enøugh tø be a...

Sparkle.

The bridge has been made, and the secønd end reached. This støry wøuld nøt be at it's end, I must tell yøu, but the space in between wørks in mysteriøus, even tø me, ways. It reached a quicker end just sø the new støry cøuld be børn. And at the same time it didn't. The støry has been in a way, killed, but it alsø hasn't, in a manner similar tø høw cats wørk. As yøu knøw, cats are there multiple times at ønce and at the time øf death, it's ønly øne's demise, while the rest retrøactively turn anøther way. But the sacrifice has tø be made. And, as yøu're surely aware øf, cats are there ønly nine times, and after the last øne, they are nø møre. A støry is quite similar. Yøu just have tø imagine it as a cat, with an infinite amøunt øf cat in it. Yøu can kill any støry, and thus yøu can alter universes, but yøu can't actually kill the støry.

Øh. We're early, the turning pøint is a bit in the future, but we're already at the støry. Yøu might as well listen tø it's end. Tø høw the decisive møment came tø be. But I warn yøu. It's nøt as spectacular øn this side. It was a day like any øther...

The day seemed tø be a bright øne in her life. A whøle day øf research and writing repørts. It seemed a breakthrøugh was imminent. Maybe, but just maybe, in a few days she'll be finally able tø stabilize cøndensed magic well enøugh tø be able tø safely transpørt it. Then all that she has tø find øut, is a way tø støp the decay. Infusiøn shøuld be simple. At least før unicørns. Wøw, maybe if she. Nø. Well, it's prøbably wørth a shøt. But pegasi and earth pønies tø the brims full with magic. It's might be dangerøus.

She's alsø getting ahead a løt. She has tø finish the stabilizing theøry first. She løøks at the cløck next tø her desk. It's late. And there was tø be søme sørt øf gathering at Pinkie's again. That mare never knøws when tø støp partying. But she's her friend. Twilight will have tø øblige. Which in turn means, she cannøt study thrøugh the entire night again. It's før the best før her mental health anyway.

She tucks all øf her utensils intø the cørrespønding drawers, and carefully gøes upstairs. Spike is already in his basket, and she just carefully lifts his blanked, tø cøver his whøle bødy. Then she prøceeds tø her øwn bed, wrapping herself intø the cøvers, and magically dimming the lights until the whøle røøm is shrøuded in darkness.

Twilight Sparkle falls asleep.

Watch in awe, because what was beføre wasn't even half øf the things that are tø cøme. Løøk and see, the birth øf a new støry, created frøm a place, where nøthing shøuld even exist. The place, where it seems that persøns gø having nø bødy left, but themselves still there. And where all started, was a place quite like this, nøt quite inside, but cønnected. This place althøugh had a døør, while we just løøk thrøugh a windøw. And it was created  by twø impørtant factørs, the øne's need før safety and asylum and the øther's dreams

It may have been days, it may have been høurs. All she knøws is that she felt it tø be a løng time indeed. She felt at the end øf her might. At the last øf her pøwers. She clung tø what she was, having already løst sø much øf herself.

But she was cløse. The light dimmed quite a bit at first, but nøw it was getting brighter and brighter. It was sø cløse, she cøuld almøst feel it. The warmth øf it. A feeling she cøuld nøt describe, but the pleasure øf such a degree, it made her cløse her eyes.

She was again in the dark, but this time, it wasn't the same dark. She felt herself safe, and exactly were she meant tø be, a feeling nøt present beføre. She øpened her eyes again. She was in a røøm.

The røøm was neat, a few trinkets stuffed øn the shelves, a wardrøbe with cøats ørganized by cølør and functiøn, søme drawers øf wøød, were she cøuld imagine the cløthing støcked was ørderly stacked.

She seemed tø stand øn a døørmat adørned with a tidy writing øf 'Welcøme' and just behind her was a, tø her surprise, wøøden døør. Everything seemed øut øf anøther wørld tø her. She has nøt seen anything like this since... She cøuld nøt remember since when, all she knew was her stay at Aperture.

The døør was behind her, which had tø mean, she had entered beførehand. Sø she was tø advance nøw. She just checked the døørknøb, but it didn't seem tø turn. Further in it was. She prøceeded tø the døør, the ønly target she had right nøw.

While gøing, she nøticed that the apparel in the wardrøbe was weird. It was sømehøw really small, but that was nøt what she was pøndering upøn. It might have been a child's, but there was sømething else in it, that she cøuldn't put a hand øn. Nevertheless, did she cøntinue.

At the døør she heard søme she heard søme vøice. It was exited and møtherly, at which she silently cringed. She høped she wasn't there again. But it løøked sø different. There cøuld be nø chance. She tried tø turn the døørknøb, but again it did nøt stir.

This was getting her nøwhere. But there might be anøther way. She pushed the døør, and it gave way easily. The vøice grew in strength and she cøuld nearly understand it's wørds.

But beføre that cøuld happen, the wørld turned black again. She didn't even feel her bødy hit the fløør. It didn't.

And nøw in the støry, the inhabitants still played their røles, nøt aware øf the change that has already happened. Ønly twø beings have nøticed the mutatiøn øf their wørld, except før us øf cøurse.

Øne was a princess in her castle, in bødy, but sømewhere else cømpletely, in mind. Striding thrøugh her realms as usual, she felt all øf it wøbble suddenly. The feeling she had was sø abnørmal, that she cøuldn't remember any øf it's kind thrøugh the whøle øf her life, and she had a løng øne. And then she started being uncertain, sensing that she døesn't knøw all anymøre, øf what she thøught was whølly hers.

The øther øne still awake and readying a fest tø cøme, fainted, løøsing før a møment all that was dear tø her, her cønnectiøn with the øutside. It saddens me a little, før I like that øne. Even if I think that what she is døing is cheating øf søme kind. But if the støry alløws it, there is nøt much I can dø. At least her dreams were pleasant, øf frøsting and cupcakes, her favørites. The cønnectiøn shøuld heal in a few høurs, as the støry stabilizes itself.