The Most Dangerous Game

Chapters

Notes From the Desolation
Inscriptions and in Spirographs
A Fate Carved in Amethyst
Beginning at the End of All Things
Three Degrees of Freedom
Equestria as We Knew It (Be Rainbow)
A Long Way From Equestria (Be Twilight)
Don't Bleed in the Suits (Be Fluttershy)
Alpha Female (Be Rarity)
In the Kingdom of Uncharted Umbra
Recalling What Has Yet To Come
On the Shoulders of Ancient Giants
In the Kingdom of Untarnished Utopia

Notes From the Desolation

Your name is Rainbow Dash.

Sweet CELESTIA do you love the WONDERBOLTS.

You want to join them as they soar through the skies, engaging in MANUEVERS BOTH DARING AND POTENTIALLY DELETERIOUS. To that end, you have been practicing your tricks every day in the hopes that a STRAY TALENT SCOUT might notice you, so that you might ascend the RUNGS OF FAME AND GLORY.

Thus far your attempts have mostly landed you in the hospital. But you refuse to give up, because if there is one trait that defined you, it would be your TENACITY.

If there happened to be another trait that also defined you, it would be your LOYALTY. You would never betray your friends. Friendship is THICKER THAN BLOOD, you say. And it's true. As it would turn out, you recently discovered that your friends and family may have been ONE AND THE SAME the whole time, via a complicated reach-around scheme broiled in the depths of SKAIA.

You have also recently developed a bit of a habit for READING ADVENTURE STORIES, thanks to your friend Twilight. You can never put them down without wondering what's going to happen on the NEXT PAGE. You particularly like DARING DO, because she is JUST SO SPUNKY.

What will you do?

You will write in your journal, of course. Your friend TWILIGHT SPARKLE has entrusted you with documenting the end of the world.

[obstinateNarcoleptic created journal entry “Notes from the Desolation”]

It's all gone.

I don't want to believe it. Ponyville is gone. Equestria is gone.

I'm pretty sure the pony race is done for too, seeing as there's only the six of us left. I don't think it's really hit me yet, what's happened. The scale of it.

Gilda. She's probably dead.

Cheerilie. I'm never going to see her again.

I think I'm beginning to grasp exactly what I've lost.

So many other ponies. I won't list them here. It would take too long, and I don't think that's what Twilight wants.

Frankly, I don't think this is what she wants, either. She said we need to record our story. Tell what happened. But tell who? There's nopony here but us.

Twilight said she doesn't know. But she thinks there's a way she can put what we write out there so other ponies can read it, just on the off-chance that somehow, somewhere, somepony survived. Something about “a server in the Furthest Ring.” Whatever that means. I agreed to do it because she has a point. If there is someone else out there (and I say someone else now because it might not be a pony, I don't care, I just want to get out of here) then I want to find them. And I want them to find us. But I'm also writing this because if I don't, I'm going to explode. The past twenty four hours have been a hurricane of stuff happening that I haven't been able to keep up with it all. But now that I'm calming down, I can't understand how I managed to keep myself together before now.

I'm going to say it one more time, because I don't think it's sunk in for me yet.

Equestria was wiped off the map. It's gone. Capish. The princesses. If anyone survived, it's them. Twilight's trying to contact them, see if they can arrange a rescue, but it's a no-go so far.

Twilight said that what I'm doing right now is called “Stream of Consciousness Writing.” It's when I just write the first thing that comes to mind without bothering to think about whether it sounds right or not. She said that's fine. If I have things I need to get out, I should get them out. She also said my grammar is atrocious, but that she's going to edit it and fix it up before she uploads it.

However, she says that I still need to tell you my story.

Look, you. I don't know if you're a pony. Hay, I don't know if you're even there. I'm going to pretend that you are. Because knowing that someone, somewhere is reading this is making me feel a little better. I'm going to tell you my story, and you're going to listen. Because someone needs to know what I've been through.

I don't know where to start. I could start at the very beginning, time-wise, but I don't think that's smart. Because this story goes back over a thousand years, and I wasn't there. Plus, that part's boring. And isn't really important yet. I mean, technically we caused a lot of it, even though we weren't born then.

I suppose the best place to start is Twilight. She's pretty important. How many times have I mentioned her name already? I haven't told you about the others yet, but they're here. They're important too. They're also my best friends. But I'll get to them soon enough.

You see, Twilight was a student learning about magic underneath Princess Celestia. For a while she moved to Ponyville, where I come from. That's how we met. How we all met, really. She was this shy little klutz that always tried to do everything perfectly. But she didn't understand the first thing about other ponies, which got her into hot water more than once. She had these really big purple eyes that sometimes fell behind her mane, which was just barely long enough to cover them when she got wet.

She was, in a word, absolutely bucking adorable. She was a complete egghead. And then she went away again. The Princess had a special mission for her. Something secret, that she wasn't allowed to talk to us about. We didn't hear from her for a month.

And then the packages started arriving.

I don't think I've ever been as excited as I was the day Derpy flew in with that box from Canterlot. I didn't know any other ponies in Canterlot, so I knew who it was from right away. I was hoping for some sort of apology letter.

It was a book.

Now, I thought this was pretty typical of Twilight. She knew that I'd recently taking a liking to reading adventure stories, so I figured she found a book she thought I would enjoy and she sent it to me. This idea was busted as soon as I looked more closely at the cover.

There weren't any illustrations on the front. Which is okay, I guess. But the title didn't look like anything I'd ever seen before. At first I thought it was a typo.

obstinateNarcoleptic

All one word. Only the N in “Narcoleptic” was capitalized. If it looks familiar to you, that's because the name was at the top of this letter. The name is at the top of this letter because it appears at the top of everything I write in this book. Like magic.

I opened it up to the first page, not knowing what to expect. All I found were more compound nonsense words. Seven of them in total, including the word on the cover. I turned the page, and saw the exact same thing. I skipped through to a random page in the middle of the book. No change. I began flipping through the pages like it was a flip book. Except of course that in a flip book the picture changed, and here it didn't.

At this point, I was beginning to wonder if I wasn't the victim of some practical joke. It wasn't a particularly funny prank, but then again, this was Twilight. Maybe she was trying to learn the magic of being a good prankster, but if she was, she still had a long way to go. I admit I was a little angry at this point. I'd been denied any sort of message from Twilight. I still didn't have the first clue what she'd been up to all this time. My anger went away, almost immediately though, when I realized something.

I hadn't gotten any closer to the end of the book. No matter how much I flipped, there were always more pages to go through. The book must have been magical. I just had to figure out if it did anything else.

Then, in front of my eyes, the pages turned, all by themselves, and the words on the book changed. It now displayed a message.

I hate to break sequence and all, but I want to clarify right now that I'm not rewriting the entire message. That would take far too long, and it would be stupid. I also would not have made sure to get all the colors right, because those were also stupid. Fortunately for me, it turns out that the books have the ability to copy stuff that's already been written, without me having to write each letter by hand. It's really useful, and Twilight showed me how to do it before I started writing this.

Anyway, the message was this:

precognitivePrognostic [PP] began nickering obstinateNarcoleptic [ON]:

PP: Hey rainbow dash!
ON:

I nearly fell over backwards. Holy Hay, the book was talking to me. What was stranger was the line below the greeting. ON stood for obstinateNarcoleptic, that much was pretty obvious. And I was beginning to get the sinking suspicion that ON also meant me. After all, I was the one being nickered. But then who was precognitivePrognostic? It wasn't the book, the cover of the book made it clear that it was also obstinateNarcoleptic. PP had to be somepony else entirely. Maybe if I had a dictionary on me, and I could figure out what “prognostic” meant.

I looked back at the “ON” on the bottom line. Was I supposed to write something there? Was that how I communicated with this PP thing? I didn't want to deface Twilight's book if I wasn't correct, but what else was I supposed to do? I went back inside and dug around my desk until I found a quill. During that time, PP managed to pester me with a few more messages:

PP: I know youre there rainbow dash!
PP: You cant hide from me!

The book made a chirping noise each time a new one appeared. And each time I opened it, no matter what page the book fell open on, I saw the message. What was strange, though, was that while flipping forward in the book continued to do nothing, flipping back wold take me back to the list of names.

Assuming, of course, that they were names. I double checked, and precognitivePrognostic was among them. When I flipped forward again, I was back to looking at my one-sided conversation with PP.

Finally locating a quill, I dipped it in a pot of ink and hesitantly began to write.

ON: who are you
PP: Aww rainbow dash, youre smart enough to figure this out!
PP: Youre one smart cookie!
PP: But lets make this a guessing game!
ON: are you one of my friends
PP: Of course!
PP: Duh!
ON: let me guess
ON: youre writing in a book same as me
ON: a book twilight gave you
ON: im going to guess youre not twilight though
ON: twilight would cringe at those missing upside down comma thingies
PP: Right right and right rainbow dash!
PP: Youre catching on quickly!
PP: Ooh youre good at this game!
ON: let me take a wild stab at this
ON: tons of exclamation points
ON: bright pink letters
ON: annoying as all hay
ON: this isnt even a challenge anymore pinkie pie
ON: give me something harder
PP: Fine then!
PP: Guess where i am right now!

Pinkie Pie was right. That was harder. Like Twilight, Pinkie Pie had also gone strangely missing a couple weeks ago. She didn't keep in touch with her family that much anymore, so it wasn't like she had any real reason to stay in Ponyville. Except for her friends, of course. At first we thought this was another silly game she was playing. But as the days went by and nopony had seen nose or withers of her, we began to grow increasingly anxious. We weren't too worried. After all, Pinkie was a grown mare more than capable of taking care of herself. But the fact that she had suddenly left in the middle of the night just didn't sit well with us.

ON: i give up pinkie pie
ON: where are you
PP: Youre not even trying silly!
PP: Its no fun if you dont even try!
ON: listen to me pinkie
ON: we all freaked out when you left
ON: you have no idea how bad it was for fluttershy
PP: Oh no!
PP: Flutters!
ON: yeah
ON: flutters
PP: I didnt even think about how flutters would handle it!
PP: Im so sorry rainbow dash!
ON: fine
ON: apology accepted
ON: just tell me where you are so i can come and get you
PP: Im in a jungle!
ON: what
ON: like with tigers and stuff
ON: ?
PP: Maybe!
PP: I havent seen any tigers yet!
PP: If i see a tiger ill let you know!
PP: I do see a volcano though!
PP: In fact im right at the edge of it right now!
ON: are you crazy
ON: get away from there
ON: right now
PP: Dont worry!
PP: Its inactive!
PP: I think...
ON: you think
PP: Well i dont really know any good ways to tell!
PP: I suppose if it erupts then thats one way to tell!
PP: But im really really hoping it doesnt!
PP: So until it erupts im going to assume its inactive!
ON: you are crazy
ON: why in the world would you willingly sit on the edge of a volcano
PP: Because i saw it in a dream!
PP: I dreamed i was sitting right here by the volcano!
PP: Writing in a book!
PP: Which i now know is how i get to talk to my friends in the future!
PP: My dreams show me whats going to happen but they dont always explain what they mean!
PP: I didn't know what the book was for until I got here and the book was waiting for me!
PP: So there are still some nice surprises!
PP: Like getting to talk to you!
ON: back up
ON: the book was waiting for you
ON: i thought twilight mailed it to you
PP: How could twilight mail me a book when im out in the middle of a jungle silly!
ON: i guess
ON: but i thought you said that twilight sent you the book
PP: She did!
PP: My book just took a journey that was a little bit longer than yours!
PP: I still haven't charted the entire path of it!
PP: But im pretty sure twilight had a hoof in it somewhere!
PP: Speaking of twilight you should probably talk to her before you lose your chance!
PP: Id talk to her myself, but its complicated!
PP: Just tap her name on the main page!
PP: Or write it at the top of a new page!
PP: Theres lots of ways to do it i think!
ON: lose my chance
ON: ?
ON: why would i lose my chance
PP: Just do it!
PP: Ill be here waiting when youre done!

precognitivePrognostic [PP] ceased nickering obstinateNarcoleptic [ON]

ON: good grief pinkie
ON: pinkie
ON: ?

She wasn't responding. I assumed the message meant she had closed the book or something, and she was now ignoring me. I flipped back a page and found myself looking at the list of names. It was pretty obvious now that five of the names were for each of Twilight's best friends, and one was for herself. I wondered which one was hers, and who the seventh name belonged to.

I don't always listen to Pinkie's suggestions, but she had the right idea. If any of us knew what was going on, it would be Twilight. But I didn't even know which name was hers. I scanned them slowly. Except for two of them, they had words I didn't recognize. Twilight had really worked hard to ensure that I would never be able to pronounce any of these names, let alone spell them. Maybe it was a sign that I should read more.

Looking back over the names, I realized that three of them were brightly lit, while the other four were dull and grayed out. Two of the lit ones were me and Pinkie, and the words were written in our respective colors. The third name was a solid purple. I considered that maybe the lit up names were the ponies who had already received their books? My mail did tend to arrive early in the day. I decided I better give it a shot before the name grayed out like the rest of them. I tapped it with my hoof, and the page turned, displaying a line that was slightly familiar:

obstinateNarcoleptic [ON] began nickering precociousPerfectionist [PP]

ON: twilight
ON: is that you
ON: ?
PP: Rainbow Dash?
PP: Huh. I didn't think you would be the first to figure out how to work this thing.
PP: No offense.
PP: You're not offended, are you?
ON: hays yeah
ON: you implying i cant figure out a silly magic book
ON: ?
ON: thing was a piece of cake
ON: sliced and served with a side of buck you
ON: im not stupid
PP: I'm so sorry, Rainbow Dash!
PP: I didn't mean to imply that you were.
PP: I suppose I should be more careful about how I word things.
ON: nah
ON: its cool
PP: Pardon?
ON: youre right
ON: i didnt know what i was doing until pinkie gave me some help
PP: Pinkie Pie is with you?
ON: what
ON: no
ON: i just got done talking to her with the book
PP: Pestertomes.
ON: what
PP: The books are called Pestertomes.
PP: And Pinkie has hers already? According to my tome, she hasn't opened hers yet.
PP: Her friendhandle is still greyed out.
ON: odd
ON: we just chatted i swear
PP: I guess my tome isn't picking up the signal from hers.
PP: Can't imagine why, though.
PP: How is Pinkie Pie doing, anyway?
PP: Seeing how apparently I can't talk to her.
ON: shes just being pinkie pie
ON: she left ponyville because of some dream where she saw a volcano
ON: so she left to find one
ON: do you think its possible that pinkie pie is seeing the future in her dreams like she told me
ON: like a weird extension of her pinkie sense
ON: i mean the volcanos a sign right
PP: Not necessarily.
PP: She left because she wanted to find the volcano in her dream.
PP: She actively worked to make her vision come true.
PP: Because she had the vision, it ended up becoming a reality.
PP: Here in Canterlot, we call that a self-fulfilling prophecy.
PP: It doesn't mean anything unless Pinkie Pie sees something that she had no way of controlling and no way of knowing about ahead of time.
PP: That would prove it, I think.
PP: But until then, she's just a mare with strange dreams.
ON: so pinkie pie being pinkie pie
PP: Pretty much.
PP: I'm more surprised she was able to get to a volcano in a day.
ON: twilight
ON: pinkie pie left a week or two ago
PP: But you told me you were just talking to her.
ON: yes
ON: over your silly book
PP: Pestertome.
ON: whatever
ON: over perstertome
ON: i thought we'd already been over that
ON: pay attention
PP: But I just mailed her tome to Sugar Cube Corner.
PP: If she left a week ago, how did she get her hands on a tome that arrived in Ponyville today?
ON: its a mystery
ON: and speaking of mysteries
ON: where have you been
ON: whats been keeping you so busy you cant talk to your best friend in equestria
ON: thats me by the way
PP: I'm really sorry, Rainbow Dash.
PP: I've been working on some very urgent things with the princess.
PP: I promise I'll explain eventually.
ON: eventually
ON: as in not now
ON: or anytime in the foreseeable future
PP: You have to understand, Rainbow, that there's a lot more at stake here then you know.
PP: I don't want to speak too soon, but I think that I may have been tasked with saving all of Equestria.
PP: And I may need your help to do it.
PP: When the time comes, the six of us need to be prepared.
PP: I'm just doing my best to ensure our chances of success.
ON: fine
ON: im not saying you have to spill all your state secrets
ON: just try to keep in touch next time
ON: do you really not have time to write to us
ON: ?
PP: Sorry.
PP: That's one of the reasons I made these Pestertomes.
PP: It will let you talk to me any time I'm not busy, without the delays of the mail system.
PP: As an added bonus, I imagine it would help you guys talk to each other too.
ON: fine
ON: just promise me you wont wait months to talk to us again
PP: I promise.
PP: I have to go now. The princess wants to talk to me.
ON: okay
ON: talk to you later
PP: Agreed.
ON: wait
ON: one more thing
ON: howd you know it was me
ON: we all have these strange names
PP: I chose the names when I made the books. Do you like them?
ON: what the hay is an obstinate anyway
PP: It means you aren't stopped easily.
ON: good
ON: for a second i thought you were trying to make fun of me
ON: by giving me a name that meant something stupid
ON: id walk around and all the eggheads would laugh at me
PP: Nopony would laugh at you, Rainbow Dash.
PP: I promise.

obstinateNarcoleptic [ON] ceased nickering precociousPerfectionist [PP]

That was the last I heard from Twilight before the game began. The next time I opened the book, her name, or friendhandle, as she called it, was gone. There were only six. Over that next day, I watched three of the remaining four names light up. I got to talk to Rarity, Fluttershy, and Applejack. But the last name remained gray. And it stayed that way. The last name, a certain yeastedOatmeal, never got its color.

A month passed without word from Twilight. I was pretty upset that she had broken her promise, but I was also worried. When the others were separated from their books, like when Applejack was out bucking apples, the names went gray, letting me know they weren't available to answer. But I never saw another name disappear. I wondered if something had happened to Twilight.

Then the record arrived. The record that would destroy Equestria. And I was dumb enough to play it.

[obstinateNarcoleptic closed journal entry “Notes of the Desolation”]

Twilight: Desecrate Ancient Ruins

Inscriptions and in Spirographs

[obstinateNarcoleptic opened memo “Inscriptions and in Spirographs”]

It was a record. I didn’t have the first clue what I was supposed to do with it. Play it, probably. Which would be a lot easier if I owned a record player.

I turned Twilight’s latest gift over in my hooves, checking one more time to see if there was writing anywhere on it. There wasn't. But in the center, on the part without grooves where the label usually goes, there was a symbol etched into the material. A circle, with a number of curved lines inside it. A spirograph, Twilight would later tell me it was called, although I didn't really care. On the reverse side, there was a different picture. It looked like a house, or what a six year old would imagine a house looked like, and only then if the house had been carved into eight pieces, plus a roof.

Why had Twilight sent me this? The last time we spoke, she was talking about saving the world, and now she wanted me to listen to some music? At least, I assumed there was music on it; the package hadn't come with any instructions. I breathed a sigh of relief as I realized that this package, strange as it was, meant Twilight was still alive.

I wanted to ask Twilight about this and make her explain herself, but precociousPerfectionist was still missing from my pestertome's list of users.

Still, I needed to talk to somepony about this. Somepony I could trust.

obstinateNarcoleptic (ON) began nickering oldYeller (OY):

ON: applejack
ON: ?
ON: come on...
OY: its okay Rainbow Dash
OY: im here
OY: now whats got your feathers all in a bunch?
ON: i just got a record from twilight
ON: one of those spinny things that music comes out of
ON: I dont get it
ON: like
ON: what the hay does she want me to do with this
ON: play it
ON: ?
ON: I dont even own a record player
OY: not to belittle your argument, Dash
OY: but isnt this a thing best settled tween the two of yall?
ON: did you get one though
ON: ?
ON: i guess is what im asking
ON: is this part of twilights save the world plan or did she just decide i should listen to beeethoofen
OY: i did not get anything from Twilight in the mail
OY: have you played it yet?
OY: truth be told id be kind of scared to
ON: whats the worst that can happen aj
ON: its a record
ON: it makes sound
ON: it won't kill you
OY: yes
OY: a normal record would behave exactly as you just said
OY: a normal book would not let you talk to other ponies
OY: and yet here we are
OY: if Twilight aint gonna send us a normal book why would she send us a normal record?
OY: maybe you could ask her?
ON: are you kidding
ON: ?
ON: twilight hasn't been on in ages
OY: hold on, RD
OY: let me get her

Why me? I felt like I no longer understood anything. What was so special, so unique about this record that Twilight had made one just for me? If I had a record player, I might have had some answers by now.

And apparently she was back on the scene and had neglected to inform me. I turned back to the list of other book users, confused. precociousPerfectionist was still missing, but for the first time, I saw another name.

nebularOedipus

The hay? Before I could question this further, the newcomer began writing to me.

nebularOedipus (NO) has joined the conversation.

NO: Hey guys.
NO: Sorry for he radio silence.
NO: I've been really busy.
ON: twi
ON: ?
NO: Yes, Rainbow Dash?
ON: twi your name changed
NO: Yes.
NO: Yes it did.
NO: I lost my Pestertome and had to obtain a replacement.
ON: okay fine
ON: took you long enough to get back to me twi
ON: a month
ON: really
NO: I'm sorry, Rainbow Dash.
NO: I really am.
NO: But like I said, I've been busy.
ON: busy with what exactly
NO: I've been figuring out how to transcribe spells onto physical media other than scrolls.
NO: I presume this is what you wish to talk to me about?

I didn't have words to respond to this. Applejack did.

OY: woah nelly
OY: you telling me that this here record is magic?
OY: that instead of playing music it casts a spell?
NO: Two spells, actually.
NO: One on each side.
ON: and what do these spells do
ON: ?
NO: I don't know.

Was it just me, or was Twilight being a bit crazier than usual? Hay, I enjoyed being reckless at times, but this plan was beginning to seem downright suicidal.

ON: really
ON: please tell me youre joking twi
ON: you sent sent me a magic item in the mail when you yourself dont know what it does
ON: what if it exploded
ON: what if it had exploded in the mail
ON: think about derpy
ON: theres a reason she doesnt handle fragile shipments
NO: Relax, Rainbow Dash. I'm fairly certain the record won't explode.
NO: Besides, the spells are dormant until you play the record. Just keeping it around is harmless.
OY: to reiterate, Twi, youre telling me that these records are gonna do something magical when we play them but you dont know what
NO: Correct.
OY: so youre giving them to RD
NO: Correct.
OY: presumably to play them
NO: Precisely.
OY: and this doesnt strike you as just the tiniest bit dangerous
NO: Of course, it could be dangerous.
NO: We're treading into unknown territory.
NO: But we're running out of time, and it's important that we figure out what the message is.
OY: running out of time?
ON: what message
NO: Equestria is under attack.

Finally, some action, I thought, and then I immediately felt guilty. Equestria being attacked was bad news, even if it was a break in the endless string of boring days and nights. Fortunately, our friends had a go-to strategy for getting rid of baddies.

ON: time to break out the elements
ON: ?
NO: Not quite. We can't take this fight to its source because I don't have the first clue where that source is.
NO: There isn't a commander or ruler to take down, because we aren't being attacked by a living thing.
NO: Equestria is being besieged by meteors.
NO: Meteors which are being teleported here from someplace else.
NO: I think any attacks or negotiations against inert chunks of space rock is an enormous waste of our time.

Never mind then. Banishing meteors to the moon did seem a bit silly.

ON: again
ON: what message
NO: The spells. We discovered them on one of the meteors.
NO: Or, more specifically, carved into the walls of a building deposited by one of the meteors.
NO: Whoever is responsible for this, these ruins were their opportunity to send us a message.
NO: This was the message that they chose. The only message they chose.
NO: Whatever those spells do, the ponies behind this deemed it important enough to pass along.
NO: And that's reason enough for me to want to know what they do.
NO: Because if anything is going to save Equestria, its in those spells.
NO: The problem is, though, I can't test them myself.
NO: From the experiments I've been able to perform, one of the spells is a beacon. It generates a signal that the other spell detects and attaches itself to.
NO: Beyond that, however, I don't have a clue. Both spells need to be cast together for there to be any effect, but if the sources are too close to each other, they interfere.
NO: I'd like to perform two experiments, so I can observe the effects of both spells firsthand.
NO: I won't make you do this, Rainbow Dash, if you don't want to.
ON: are you implying i might be too chicken to play a record
ON: im in
OY: you sure about this, sugarcube?
ON: hay yeah
ON: except i dont have a player
NO: You don't?
ON: why would i?
ON: you cant take them with you
ON: music is only something you can listen to when youre standing still
ON: rainbow dash does not stand still
OY: you can use mine, RD, if you like
ON: fine
ON: be right over
ON: dont have much else to do today
OY: see you then

oldYeller (OY) has left the conversation

NO: Thank you, Rainbow Dash, for agreeing to do this with me.
ON: hey
ON: you said this could save equestria
ON: and i would be majorly bummed if equestria was destroyed on my watch
ON: especially by meteors
ON: stupid things cant even fly
ON: just sort of fall
ON: like penguins thrown out of a hot air balloon
NO: …
NO: Okay...
NO: Well then, which side of the record do you plan on playing?
ON: i dont know
ON: the one with the weird circle pattern i guess
NO: The pattern is called a spirograph.
NO: That picture designates the “server” or beacon spell.
NO: I will connect to it. And then we will get to see what happens.
NO: Do you understand?
ON: loud and clear twi
ON: just one question though
ON: why me
ON: if you want to study magic wouldnt you be better off with rarity
NO: I chose you because I trust you, Rainbow Dash!
ON: aww
NO: And also because Pinkie Pie told me to.
ON: what
NO: I spoke to her the other day.
NO: I don't know how, but she knew what I was up to before I told her.
NO: She knew I had made the record.
NO: And she told me to give it to you. She said that was the only way to advance us toward our collective goal. I don't even know what she meant by that.
NO: But I think I've reached the point where I almost take her advice without questioning.
NO: Almost. I am still a scientist, after all.
NO: But she knows a lot of things that the rest of us don't have a the first clue about.
NO: Like the parasprites.
NO: And she has her own Pestertome. It isn't the one I gave her. I don't know where she found it.
ON: basically if its pinkie pie you dont know
NO: Essentially.
NO: Say. You're adopted, right?
ON: what does that have to do with anything
NO: Do you know if any of the others are, besides you and Fluttershy?
NO: I mean, Pinkie Pie doesn't look anything like the rest of her family.
NO: I have never seen Applejack's parents.
NO: And Rarity's parents just seem too young.
NO: Is it a possibility that we're all adopted?
ON: what brought this on
ON: wait
ON: are you saying that youre adopted too
NO: Yes. That is exactly what I'm insinuating.
NO: I don't want to say anything if I'm wrong.
NO: But I have a theory that these meteors aren't being sent through space.
NO: They are being sent through time.
NO: Some of them landed in the past. Containing the six of us.
NO: We may not be native to Equestria, Rainbow Dash.
NO: We might be about to fight our homeland.
NO: This may be a bit much to take.
NO: I'll let you go get the record player from Applejack now.
NO: Talk to you in a few?
ON: yeah
ON: ill go do that

obstinateNarcoleptic (ON) ceased nickering nebularOedipus (NO)

I let that stew for a moment. Did I arrive in Equestria by meteor? I wasn't going to rule it out as a possibility. I never knew who my parents were. The closest I had to a parental figure was Commander Hurricane, a pegasus who lived a thousand years ago. She had been my idol growing up, and a proud warrior. I had done everything I could that I thought might make her proud.

I put the book in my saddlebag and held the record in my teeth. Carrying something that thin and fragile in my mouth seemed like a bad idea, as a sudden shift in my flying could break it in half. But what else was I to do? It would be really nice, I remember thinking, if there were some way to store and carry items, regardless of size. Something magical.

Later, when I received such an item, I would quickly regret making that wish. As it would turn out, extradimesional storage was much more troublesome than I had expected.

However, I had yet to experience that nightmare. Instead I merely took off toward Sweet Apple Acres, being very careful not to break the record.

[obstinateNarcoleptic closed memo “Inscriptions and in Spirographs”]

Twilight: Play the Most Dangerous Game

A Fate Carved in Amethyst

[nebularOedipus opened memo “A Fate Carved in Amethyst”]

I am not very good at waiting.

The only thing worse than waiting is waiting apprehensively. When you are impatient for something good, something certain, you will be rewarded for your suffering. But when the seconds are counting down for something dreadful, or worse, an unknown fate, the only thing you have to look forward to is relief when the situation, however horrible it turns out to be, fails to become as bad as the worst possible outcome. That marginal difference, the ways in which “well, it could have been worse” will be your only consolation.

While I was waiting for Rainbow Dash to get to Applejack's and set up, I couldn't get rid of the sinking feeling that was doing a number on my insides. I tried to logically review the facts, something which was often helpful to me in stressful situations.

One: The spells Rainbow Dash and I were about to cast could do almost anything. I had been mostly unsuccessful in picking apart the strands of the spell, but I had identified several different seeds. Conjuration. Teleportation. Divination. But this information alone didn't do much to help me understand what I was dealing with, only that the magic was complicated. For all I knew, the spell was a bomb that was going to blow up the entire tower I was in. However, this seemed unlikely, because

Two: This spell was important to whomever carved it into the walls of the frog temple. Out of all the possible inscriptions, they had chosen a spell, and out of all the possible spells, they had chosen this. Sending a message through space, and possibly time, that blew up when its discoverer happened to decode it just seemed like a huge prank to me. No, they had to anticipate that this spell would be cast. It had to be advantageous to them in some way.

I began to have second thoughts about casting the spell again. How many stories had I read about ancient terrors slumbering beneath the ocean, waiting for the foolhardy adventurer to awaken them? Daring Do had faced at least two of them.

I imagined being part of an H. P. Lovecrop novel, and didn't want to contemplate it any more than necessary. I tried to counsel myself, remembering that Lovecrop was fiction. This was real.

“You okay, Twilight?”

I had almost forgotten that I wasn't alone. My loyal dragon assistant Spike was perched on my back, holding the record. He didn't usually get as antsy as I did, but I figured even he was desperate for conversation.

I mumbled, just to let him know that I hadn't fallen asleep or died, and then asked him if I could see the record again.

“What else is there to see?” he asked. He was right. I'd been over every detail on the thing, and even that wasn't necessary, since I had built it. Any secrets it hid were carved into the vinyl grooves, not written on the sticker.

I had requested a record player be brought up to my room, which was the same room I had lived in while I had been tutoring under the princess. Any equipment I would probably need to measure the results of the spell was already present, due to my overobessive need to be prepared for anything. My bedroom was almost a full-functioning lab in itself. There was literally nothing I could do to prepare.

Spike wasn't the only companion I had, I realized. Two phoenixes were in a cage by the bed, one ancient and the other very young. They looked like family, even though they didn't have any sort of blood relation, or so I had believed at the time. The younger was Peewee, Spike's pet, and the elder, Philomena, belonged to the princess herself. I had been asked to take care of the bird and make sure its recent molting had gone without complications. Not that it required much looking after, being a very clever and self-sufficient creature. The cage wasn't even to keep it safe as much as it was to provide a place to call home. I had already seen Philomena open the cage from the inside.

“You're a clever bird,” I muttered to the phoenix. “What do you make of this?”

Spike gently reminded me that phoenixes couldn't talk. Of course they couldn't. What a strange concept that would be.

I turned the record over, wondering what I had created. “I'm losing sleep over you,” I told the record. Spike looked at me like I was crazy.

I placed the record on the player and set it spinning. I wasn't expecting anything new to happen, but I figured I might as well get set up. The player emitted a hum, soft at first but increasing into a whine and accompanied by a soft violet light that washed over us. It soothed me a little, but Spike winced and covered his ears, and the phoenixes began screeching.

Magic that upsets animals. One point for Lovecrop.

Nothing else seemed to be happening. I looked closer at the record. Just like all of the other times I had tried to play it, the record had smoothed out, transforming from rough vinyl to a smooth reflective ellipsis, like a small artificial pond. I felt weight shifting on top of me and Spike leaned forward to get a closer look. Then, before I could stop him, he reached out and poked it with his claw.

The vinyl bent and rippled beneath his touch. I heard him give a sharp cry as he drew back his hand rapidly, losing his balance. Not thinking, I reared in surprise, tossing Spike off of me and into the bookshelf behind me. Slowly, he sat up and rubbed his head. A small stream of blood was coming out of his nose. It didn't look severe, but it was enough to cause concern.

“I'm okay,” he told me, trying his best to sound at ease, but his voice wavered, and I could tell he was dazed.

I checked him for any other injuries, but he gestured me away and pointed at the record. “You need to try that,” he said, stumbling over his words. “Just, don't freak out or anything, okay?”

I hoped he was joking. Touching a magical artifact on a whim was hardly the most scientific approach. And, slightly more pressingly, Spike had been injured. Still, Spike seemed insistent, and the record didn't look like it had been damaged. With a lack of anything else to do, I decided to give Spike's advice a shot.

I still don't know exactly how to describe how it felt. It wasn't a voice, not exactly. Hearing wouldn't be the right word, anyway, since it didn't go through my ears, and there wasn't an accent, or inflection, or anything else. But I wasn't seeing either. It wasn't printed text. The sensation most definitely came from my hoof, and I recognized it immediately as words.

PASTR client is running.

Waiting for server to establish connection.

Well, that was interesting. I pulled my hoof out, and the signal vanished.

“PASTR,” I said out loud. Even though I hadn't actually seen it in writing, I know it was supposed to be in all capitals. Somehow.

All that was left was to wait for Rainbow Dash.

I didn't have to wait long. After a couple of minutes of double and triple-checking Spike's injuries, my Pestertome chimed. I opened it, expecting to see a response from Applejack or Rainbow Dash. I was wrong.

ostensiblyPhilanthropic [OP] began nickering nebularOedipus [NO]:

OP: This is a most curious development.
OP: Dawn?
NO: Who?
OP: No, wait, sorry.
OP: This is Twilight, isn't it?
NO: Who's Dawn?
OP: Never mind that, Twilight. I was confused.
OP: I recognize your handle now.
NO: You shouldn't. It's new.
OP: Right.
OP: Forgive my momentary lapse in thought. It will not happen again.
NO: Okay...
NO: Rarity, right?
NO: Is everything okay?
OP: Yes, darling, of course everything is just fine.
OP: Do I really need to wait for tragedy to strike before saying hello to a dear friend of mine?
OP: If I only called on you in times of peril, I would not be much of a friend now, would I?
NO: I suppose not.
OP: I assure you, Twilight Sparkle, I am not in any danger.
OP: Not presently, at least.
OP: No, I merely wish to talk with you before you begin your journey to save the world.
NO: Okay, then.
NO: Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about?
OP: There is nothing pressing or important.
OP: Sweetie Belle is doing well in her schoolwork.
NO: Wait. How did you know I might be saving the world soon?
NO: Did Rainbow Dash tell you that?
OP: …
OP: Yes.

Silence from Rarity. I wasn't sure what to write either. Eventually, I decided to ease her mind.

NO: Suspicious and cryptic foresight set aside for now, I'm still happy to talk to you.
OP: I'm sorry, Twilight.
OP: Maybe I did jump the proverbial gun a little bit on this conversation.
OP: But to be honest, I am nervous.
OP: Our circumstances are changing rapidly now, and they are about to change further.
OP: And even though I have it on good authority that this will not be the last time we talk to each other, I am still hesitant to leave you alone.
OP: I feel like I need to tell you something, but I don't have the first idea what to say.
OP: Do you understand that feeling, Twilight? That fear of something which you don't think will happen, but contemplating it leaves you feeling weak and powerless?
OP: I worry about how the challenges we are surely going to face will affect us.
OP: How it will affect others.
OP: What will happen to Sweetie Belle without me?
NO: Rarity?
NO: You're starting to scare me now.
NO: You're making it sound like something bad is about to happen to you.
OP: Am I?
OP: Goodness. Reading back over my writing, I sound truly morbid. That was not my intention at all.
OP: After all, I did say I would talk to you again, didn't I?
OP: And, in fact, we will see each other in person very soon.
OP: Until that time, I just want to wish you the best of luck and safety.
OP: Even though I know you won't need it.
NO: There's no chance of you just explaining where all this is coming from, is there?
OP: I don't think you would believe me. I'm not quite ready to accept it myself.
OP: I'll let you get back to work now.
OP: I imagine Rainbow Dash is almost ready for you to enter the game.
NO: Okay. Thank you, I suppose.

ostensiblyPhilanthropic (OP) ceased nickering nebularOedipus (NO)

NO: Wait.
NO: What game?
NO: How did you know about Rainbow Dash?

But she was gone. Her entire behavior had struck me as suspicious, but there wasn't much I could do without arousing suspicion myself. But that was okay, I told myself. She was my friend, and she deserved to be trusted. Rampant paranoia didn't help anypony.

I didn't have much time to think about this further, because I was contacted by another pony. Applejack this time.

oldYeller (OY) began nickering nebularOedipus (NO):

OY: shes here Twi
OY: i brought out my spare record player from the barn
OY: its pretty beat up, but i figure its good enough
NO: That's great. Thank you, Applejack.
NO: Can you pass along a message to Rainbow Dash for me?
NO: Tell her that once she gets the record playing, she should touch it gently.
OY: is that safe?
NO: It should be. It didn't hurt me. It feels a bit weird though, so make sure she's warned for any surprises.
OY: im thinking maybe you oughta just talk to her yourself.
OY: im a lot of things but not a mailpony
NO: Sorry.

oldYeller (OY) ceased nickering nebularOedipus (NO):

This was it. I felt extremely apprehensive. Whatever these spells did, it was likely beyond my imagination. None of my predictions had been very convincing, and now I was seconds away from discovering what was so important that it had caused somepony, somewhere, to break the laws of the universe to deliver it to Equestria. I had a lingering fear that when Rainbow Dash activated her record, nothing would happen. Maybe she'd just receive the same message I had. That would be the worst outcome, I thought.

Actually, I corrected myself, the death of us all would be the worst outcome, but I was intentionally disregarding that possibility. And, as it would turn out, even that was wrong. But there wasn't time to consider any of that either, because I was suddenly talking to a very excitable Rainbow Dash

obstinateNarcoleptic (ON) began nickering nebularOedipus (NO):

ON: whoa
ON: this is crazy twi

A puase. Rainbow seemed to be waiting for me to respond, but seeing as I wasn't at the farm with her, I didn't have the first clue what she was seeing, or what was getting her so excited. I checked back over Spike, who had managed to get back to his feet, albeit a bit unsteadily.

ON: come on
ON: ask me whats happening
ON: do it
ON: doooo it
ON: stop looking at the stupid dragon and talk to me

What.

She had my attention now. I grabbed my quill off the desk where I had left it and prepared to write, but I froze, suspecting a trick. Of course she could reliably assume I was with Spike. Why wouldn't I be?

NO: Very funny.
NO: But Spike's not here. He's in the garden right now with Luna and Philomena.
ON: oh really
ON: then whos in that cage behind you with peewee
NO: How are you doing this?
NO: Where are you?
ON: sweet apple acres
ON: but i can you see you
ON: well not see
ON: not with my eyes
ON: with my mind
NO: You mean you're scrying.
ON: sure
NO: I think I understand.
NO: The server spell and the client spell have connected and can now communicate with each other.
NO: It seems that my half of the spell is transmitting information about my surroundings to your half, which is supplying it to your brain via the tactile link.
ON: in english twi
NO: As long as you're touching the record, you should be able to see my room.
NO: An interesting spell that I can imagine has practical uses.
NO: None of which are particularly helpful to us right now.
NO: Can you do anything else?

Come to think of it, could I do anything else? Before, when I tried touching the disc, I had heard a message telling me to wait for Rainbow Dash. Now that I had done that, did it have any new information for me?

NO: While you mess with that, I want to check something else out.
NO: Give me a moment.

I returned to the record, with Spike watching behind me with curiosity. Less hesitantly than before, I placed my hoof upon the glowing disc.

A PASTR host user is attempting to connect with you.

Client has established connection with host.

And that was all. No visions and no other instructions. It appeared that my half of the spell, the client side, wasn't going to do much. Everything was going to have to be accomplished on Rainbow Dash's end. I couldn't help but feel envious of her. How could I ensure that her experimentation was going to be scientifically rigorous? I should have been the server. That way we would have had the best notes. When this was done, we were definitely switching and doing it again. This was something I wanted to experience for myself.

I felt a prod on my backside.

“Spike!” I glared behind me to chastise the dragon, but I discovered no one there. I spun, confused, and spotted Spike at the birdcage trying to comfort Peewee, who was still cowering from the glowing and humming disc.

He looked up from his care. “Yes?” he asked.

I felt another prod. If it wasn't Spike, who was doing this?

And then my bed began to float off the ground. I dove for the Pestertome as the bed soared past me and crashed through the wall.

NO: Rainbow!
NO: What do you think you're doing?
NO: If you're responsible, please stop this immediately.
ON: no way twi
ON: this is awesome
ON: but i will try to be more careful
NO: Yes. Please.
ON: this must be what a unicorn feels like
NO: Except normally unicorns do not engage in wanton destruction.
NO: Unicorns do not toss the beds of other unicorns out of the palace towers and let them plummet stories to the ground below.
NO: What if I had fallen out with it?
NO: Would you be able to catch me?
ON: i said i was sorry
ON: jeez
ON: do i need to put it in writing
ON: wait
ON: look twi
ON: what do you want from me
NO: Is there anything else you can do that might hint at the purpose behind this whole endeavor?
NO: Were it not for the fact that I dug this spell out of ancient ruins, I'd be marveled.
NO: But frankly this just seems underwhelming.
NO: There has to be something else.
NO: How are you even controlling that anyway?
ON: i dont know
ON: i just sort of am
ON: same way you do i guess
ON: you just sort of have to feel for it
ON: and hang on
ON: theres a couple of options
ON: i can see them the same way i see your room
ON: but im not sure what any of them do
NO: Try one.
ON: okay
ON: most of them just show me more information
ON: numbers and pictures
ON: i dont have the first clue what they mean
ON: probably not important anyway

I groaned. Why did Rainbow Dash have to choose the server side of the record? How could I explain to her that when surrounded by this unexplored frontier, there was no such thing as unimportant information?

Especially if there were numbers involved.

ON: woah are you alright twi
ON: you look a little flushed
NO: I'm fine. Just focus.
ON: yeah yeah hang on
ON: i think I found something
ON: hows this

I watched in awe as a large platform appeared above the place where my bed used to be, suspended in midair by a green glow. It hovered for the briefest of moments, just long enough for me to conceive how massive it was and how dreadful it would be if it fell.

And then fall it did. I was lucky it didn't break through the floor, which shook with a low roar.

The platform didn't appear to be made out of any material I recognized. It was perfectly smooth, like polished metal or gemstones, and it was a bright violet, like amethyst. Actually, I noted, it seemed to closely match my coat color. But I figured that was probably a coincidence. It was circular, mounted on a square base, with what resembled a magic circle etched on it. A smaller raised platform was on one of the corners of the square, large enough for me to fit a single hoof on it, although I didn't dare to do so. Not until I figured out what it did.

NO: Rainbow Dash? Where did that thing come from?
ON: its called an alchemiter
ON: at least thats what the voice word thing calls it
NO: Fine. There is now an Alchemiter in my bedroom, where my bed used to be.
NO: I guess it's not really much of a bedroom anymore, since there isn't a bed.
NO: Gee, I wonder what happened to that?
ON: how many times do you want me to say sorry twilight
NO: I just really don't want to completely trash my room.
NO: I am a guest at the palace. How do you think Celestia's going to react when she sees a giant hole in her wall and a strange and potentially dangerous machine in her pupil's room?
NO: What does this thing even do, anyway?
NO: I don't see any buttons or controls, and it's not responding to any magic commands.
NO: It's just sort of sitting there.
NO: Maybe it's modern art?
ON: i dont know
ON: i didnt make it
ON: i just sort of pulled it out of thin air
ON: theres more of them too
NO: More Alchemiters?
ON: no
ON: theres different things i can make
ON: they all have different names
ON: would you like a totem lathe
ON: maybe youll find that one more useful
ON: or perhaps a punch designix
ON: no wait its not letting me pick that one
ON: ooh this one doesnt look too bad
NO: No. Whatever you're about to do, Rainbow Dash, stop and think.
ON: too late
ON: look out below

I dove to the floor and conjured a magical shield around me, expecting the worst. As an afterthought, I conjured another shield around Spike and the phoenixes. (Phoenices? Phoenii? This warrants further research.) However, instead of a rumbling, I heard only a soft pop, followed by a nearly silent click as the new item fell onto the floor. Curiosity getting the better of me, I inspected the object, which was flat and only slightly bigger than my hoof.

The material was some sort of dense fiber; it didn't bend or sag when I picked it up. It was roughly rectangular, except one corner appeared to be jaggedly cut off. It was only slightly bigger than my hoof. The border, less than an inch thick, was red, but the interior was white, with an image printed on it that I couldn't fully make out because it was obscured by a random smattering of holes.

The holes were by far the most interesting part of the object. They were smaller rectangles, running perpendicular to the item's long side, but the holes were arranged in a seemingly random pattern. Like the Alchemiter, it didn't react when I probed it with magic.

NO: What is this one called?
ON: the disc called it a pre-punched card

A punchcard. It did kind of resemble a punchcard, like the ones in the back of some of the library books that kept track of where and when the book had been. I remembered some magical machines at the Canterlot School for Gifted Unicorns that had made use of them.

If this was a punchcard, then the holes were a code. But what did the code represent? There were no markings that gave meaning to the location of the holes. I turned the card over, and the back was covered in wavy bands of every color imaginable.

It occurred to me that the only reason somepony would punch a card would be if something else would be able to read and understand the markings. The card wasn't useless, I just hadn't figured out what the use was.

NO: Hold on. Maybe the card interacts with the Alchemiter in some way.
ON: im not so sure about that twilight
ON: i dont see any place on it for the card to go
ON: maybe you could put it on the platform but it doesnt seem big enough
ON: what if the card does something with one of the other machines
ON: theres still a few i can drop off
ON: maybe all the parts by themselves dont do anything and you have to combine them
NO: Perhaps. But to what end? If the spells in the record are only used to as a means to deliver the components for some greater spell, when will this end?
NO: Whoever designed this clearly didnt want it to be straightforward
ON: or maybe it was only meant to be used by somepony who knew what they were doing
ON: maybe your theory that we were meant to find the ruins was wrong
ON: we dont have the whole story
ON: maybe ponies who used these spells lived in those ruins
ON: actually they probably did
ON: ruins that nopony ever lived in just seems weird to me
NO: I suppose. I should avoid jumping to any conclusions, particularly since none of us really understand our circumstances.
ON: but were going to figure this out twi
ON: i just need to drop more junk in your room
NO: How big is this “junk”?
NO: My room is only so big and we are quickly running out of space.
ON: maybe not
ON: watch this

In all my memory, I don't think I have ever heard the phrase “watch this” spoken by Rainbow Dash unless it immediately preceded catastrophe. I was not disappointed here. An entire section of the wall began to glow with the same lime green light that had covered the Alchemiter. A single fierce vibration knocked me to the ground, and when I looked up, my room was an additional twenty or so square feet in size. The wall, including the hole, had been pushed back, new floors and ceilings magically appearing to fill in the gaps.

NO: What in the name of Celestia did you just do?
ON: you like it
ON: ?
ON: huh
ON: theres a sort of bar now
ON: making the room bigger made some of the bar go away
ON: 16/20 build grist it just said
ON: whatever that means
NO: That makes sense. The building material had to come from somewhere.
NO: Our resources are not infinite. Until we find a way to replenish your “Build Grist”, we should probably take care to conserve it.
ON: yeah yeah
ON: the point is now we have enough room to drop the other items
NO: I'm not sure that's such a good idea.
NO: How did your little annex affect the floor below?
NO: Unless your work extends all the way to the base of the building, the floor in this new region has no support.
NO: If the items you drop weigh half as much as the Alchemiter, I'm afraid the hanging section of the room will just fall off.
ON: fine
ON: where do you want me to drop off the other items
NO: I have a lab a couple stories down.
NO: There should be enough room for everything else down there.
NO: Can you see it?
ON: i think so
ON: i can move around a little bit
ON: ill follow you
NO: How many more objects are you going to have to deposit?
ON: just two more

Fine then. I called for Spike, and we left for the lab.

My bedroom was in the castle's west tower. A single spiral staircase filled the middle of the tower, with doors and hallways branching off at every quarter turn. Thus, you couldn't really number the floors, since not all the rooms were level with each other. Two and a half revolutions down, I entered the lab.

Even to a somepony like Rainbow Dash, it was clearly a place of science. This was where I had spent most of the past month translating the symbols in the ruins, and my notes were laid out in neat stacks on my desk. The prototype Genetic Emulator, the machine that would eventually become the spell records but originally resembled a large golden wheel, sat in its mount in the center of the table. Vials of some sort of liquid lined a shelf behind me, some part of an experiment being carried out by somepony else (I'll admit I hadn't really been paying attention what the other ponies here were working on). One corner of the room was relatively free of clutter, except for a wooden table that I quickly levitated out of the way and into the hall.

NO: Do you have the visual, Rainbow Dash?
ON: roger
ON: lets get this over with

The room shook and my coat stood slightly on end as the air shimmered and another strange contraption appeared above my head. Unlike the Alchemiter, which had a roughly square base, this machine was long and skinny. One end ran higher than the other, forming a pillar with an arm that ran above the rest of the otherwise short machine. Like the Alchemiter, there appeared to be a stand on which I could place something.

ON: ill try to find a good place to fit the cruxtruder
NO: The what now?
ON: here we go

The room vibrated again, but I didn't see anything change. I looked around, trying to figure out where Rainbow Dash had placed this “Cruxtruder.” None of these terms made sense. The Alchemiter performed Alchemy, potentially, but “Cruxtruder” didn't have any obvious etymology.

I spotted the Cruxtruder and panicked.

NO: Rainbow Dash, why did you put that there?
ON: why
ON: thats where there was the most room
NO: Yes. Because that is the entrance.
NO: And considering that the door opens inwards, you have just trapped me in here.
NO: Congratulations.
ON: hang on i can fix this
ON: let me just move the truder
ON: give me a sec
ON: huh
ON: thats odd
NO: No. Do not tell me “That's odd.” I do not want to hear “That's odd.” What happened?
ON: i cant move it
ON: its too heavy
NO: Well, this is fantastic. This is just fantastic. You have trapped me in a room with two of the three necessary components to solve this puzzle.
ON: maybe you should look at them then and figure out what they do
ON: ?

She had a point. There really wasn't much else I would be able to do in my current predicament. I decided to get a closer look at the Cruxtruder. Its base was square, like the Alchemiter, but instead of any sort of stand to place things on, a chimney-like structure rose out of the middle, capped on top. Everything was made of smooth metal, except for a flat blank display on each side. I noticed a wheel on the side of the chimney, making this the first item Rainbow Dash had given me that I could actually interact with. I tried to turn the wheel with my magic, and I saw the cap move, as if something were pushing up on it from underneath.

I called for Spike to lend me a hand and returned to the Pestertome to tell Rainbow Dash what I had discovered.

NO: I think there's something inside this thing, but the cap won't come off.
ON: want some help
NO: I think I'm strong enough to open a lid on my own, Rainbow Dash.
ON: but if its stuck maybe you need to try it from a different angle
ON: i could drop something heavy on it
NO: With all due respect, Rainbow Dash, I think you've dropped enough heavy things for today.
NO: Opening the cruxtruder just needs a little bit of elbow grease.
NO: And maybe some help from number twenty five.
ON: the mustache spell
ON: ?
NO: It's not just for mustaches. Watch this.

I turned my head to the assistant on my back. “You ready for number twenty five?” I gestured to the stuck lid.

Spike grinned. “Aw, yeah,” he said. “This is gonna be sweet, isn't it?” He jumped off me and ran between me and the Cruxtruder, his arms spread wide in anticipation. I willed up the magical energies required for the spell, my face growing hot from the heat emanating from my horn. Taking a second to aim the spell, I let loose, and the magic arced from me to him, consuming him and drowning out my vision in light.

When I could see again, Spike's arms and legs had grown larger and sturdier, thick cords of muscle bulging out from the sides. He was now slightly taller than a pony, looking down at me with a face filled with sharp fangs. For a moment neither of us made any move, and I could hear his heavy breathing.

“Spike?” I asked cautiously.

He appeared to be struggling a little, but he calmed down upon hearing his name. “I'm okay,” he grunted. “Let's just get this over with.”

Good. Spike was still Spike. I was always worried that the sudden growth could cause a hormone shift that would trigger his instinctual urges. I was not looking forward to having to face down a feral dragon in a laboratory filled with fragile equipment.

Spike swung a thick clawed hand at the Cruxtruder, while I once again struggled to turn the wheel with my magic. The cap went flying off the base, embedding itself in the wall. Not wanted to keep Spike in his current state for a moment longer than necessary, I prepared the counterspell, but was interrupted by a bright flash from the inside of the Cruxtruder.

A large purple sphere, approximately the size of my head, rose up from the inside of the Cruxtruder. Peering into it, I saw a number of shifting curves and lines, pulsing and looping around each other, forming more spirographs.

The mysteries just kept building.

Pushing my investigation aside for a brief moment, I finished the counterspell, and Spike shrunk back down to his normal size, where he promply collapsed. Magic size shifts tend to take a bit out of a dragon, I reasoned.

The wheel now turned easily, and when I turned it, a thick cylindrical rod rose up out of the machine and toppled to the floor. It appeared to be made out of a smooth and flawless crystal, the same purple hue as the orb. More amethyst, perhaps? Curious, I turned the wheel some more, and a second rod appeared. And then a third. Before long, I had more rods that could conceivably fit inside the machine.

NO: Well, I think I know now why its so heavy.
NO: It's like there's an infinite number of these things in here.
ON: thanks by the way
ON: giant spike was something i didnt need to see again
ON: i thought he was going to attack you
NO: Please, Rainbow Dash. I think I'm capable of fighting off a baby dragon.
ON: hes okay now right
NO: Yes. Tuckered out but otherwise unharmed.
NO: What do you think these things are for?
ON: they look like they would fit on the small part of the alchemiter
NO: The pedestal? Maybe, but I can't get there from here.
NO: Anything else you think I can do with them?
NO: Or the weird glowing sphere?
NO: It's not doing anything on its own. Just like everything else we've encountered.
NO: It's just sitting there, waiting for us to do something to it.
ON: actually twi
ON: i dont think everythings just sitting anymore
ON: look at the truder

I had been too preoccupied with the cylinders and the sphere to notice at first, but the Cruxtruder had changed. The four panels which had previously been blank were now displaying a number.

NO: 4:20? What does that mean?
NO: Is something going to happen at 4:20?
ON: usually its pinkie pie that talks about 420
NO: Wait. Now it says 4:10.
NO: Holy hay its counting down.
NO: It's not a clock, Rainbow Dash. It's a timer.
NO: We have four minutes.
ON: until what
NO: I don't know, and I don't think I want to find out.
NO: But I think this is how long we have to solve the puzzle.
NO: We need a way out of this room.
ON: any ideas
ON: ?

I began pacing, watching the timer with the corner of my eye. Spike was curled up by the Crudtruxer, asleep and recovering from the exertion of the spell, so he wasn't going to be much help.

ON: maybe i could break down the wall
ON: you could escape into the room next door
NO: Rainbow Dash, I am a guest in a house of royalty. If you think I'm going to engage in reckless destruction of other ponies' property, you are insane.
ON: twi i just made your room bigger and pulled random junk out of thin air
ON: im pretty sure theres an option in here to repair whatever damage we cause
ON: now do you want to get this done before time runs out or not
ON: ?
NO: I don't know, Rainbow. The last timer I encountered didn't turn out to be that dangerous.
NO: In fact, I might have been better off missing it.
NO: We have no evidence that anything bad is going to happen when the timer on the Cruxtruder expires.
ON: it still creeps me out though
ON: look out
ON: im going to use the table

I watched the table I had previously moved aside lift into the air before it rocketed toward the wall, shattering and leaving a sizable hole.

NO: Fine. I'm going to take one of the rods to the Alchemiter.
NO: Maybe placing it on the pedestal will do something.

I telekinetically grabbed one of the crystal rods and dropped down through the hole created by Rainbow Dash's aggression. Since the rooms weren't all level, I had to lower myself onto the floor in the new room, which appeared to be a storage room of some sort. I made my way out into the hallway and back up the stairs to my bedroom.

Princess Celestia was waiting for me, investigating the Alchemiter that had appeared in my room since she had last been there.

Her expression became deathly serious when she saw me. “Twilight Sparkle,” she said, sticking to the formality of using my full name even though she appeared to be in a hurry. I could see the grim desperation in her eyes.

“What is it?” I asked, panicking. “What's happening?”

A spark flew from Celestia's horn and exploded above me, filling the room with a mist. Through the mist I saw a section of the sky, and the piece of space rock that was quickly plummeting through it. The illusion dissipated.

“Canterlot is being evacuated. Our weather team spotted another meteor on course for the city. I came to warn you, but only found this device instead.” She gestured to the Alchemiter. “And I see you've found a friend.”

“What?” I turned around and saw that the glowing sphere from the Cruxtruder had followed me. I was about to explain to her what was happening what I realized that I had about as much of a clue as she did.

Why did the meteor have to come now? What were the odds that the next meteor would head right for us as soon as I started experimenting with the spell? My eyes wandered to the record, which was still giving off its soft pool of light.

“Oh my stars,” I muttered as something clicked in my brain.

The client spell was a beacon. The spell I had cast was transmitting a signal to Rainbow Dash, and who knew where else?

“Twlight?” my mentor asked, concerned.

“I brought it here,” I murmured. “The record brought the meteor.”

I had doomed Canterlot.

“We need to leave now,” I heard Celestia tell me.

“No.” My voice was firm. “This is my only chance. I'm not using the record again after this, not if I'm going to doom another city. I have three and half minutes to figure this out.” Maybe Pinkie had the right idea, leaving for a jungle. If I had gotten her involved in this, she wouldn't have put any ponies' lives in danger.

Celestia nodded. Perhaps she knew better than to try and dissuade me once I had an idea in my head. “Fine,” she said. “But just like with stone flower, promise me you'll teleport if things get too hot to handle.”

I nodded and moved past her. I didn't want to be rude, but I was running out of time. I placed the rod on the pedestal, skeptical that I was doing the right thing. To my amazement, the Alchemiter reacted, as an arm extended from the device, shining a pinpoint of light on the rod, moving along its length. The runes on the Alchemiter began to glow.

I held my breath anxiously. Then the world flashed, and a new object had appeared on the platform. A green cube, the size of my head, with the edges rounded off.

What the hay was I supposed to do with this?

My Pestertome chirped. Maybe Rainbow Dash had a good idea. Celestia looked at me one last time, smiled, and blinked out of existence.

ON: somethings happening
ON: im looking at something called the atheneum
ON: its like a dictionary of sorts but theres only one thing in it
ON: a perfectly generic object
ON: theres a picture
ON: it looks like that cube thing you just made
NO: Great. Does your Atheneum tell us what it does?
ON: no but it has a picture of the dowel
NO: Dowel?
ON: the purple rod thing
ON: theyre clearly connected somehow

I recalled seeing the beam of light shine down the side of the dowel.

NO: Maybe there are different types of dowels, and different dowels make different objects?
NO: Like, the information necessary for the construction of the object is coded somehow into the dowel?
NO: All the dowels looked the same to me, though.
ON: perfectly generic
NO: Exactly.
ON: well you still havent used the totem lathe
ON: maybe thats the missing link

Well, great. I was going to have to run back down the flight of stairs to get another dowel and investigate the Totem Lathe. This puzzle was certainly offering me an excuse to get some exercise.

A jog later, I was back in the lab. I grabbed another dowel and hurried over to the Totem Lathe. It occurred to me that I could place the dowel in between the base of the device and the overhanging arm, but then what?

I discovered that there was a slot on the side just the right size for the punchcard. I inserted the punchcard and watched the machine come to life as it extruded knives and carved up the dowel.

ON: i think were onto something here
NO: Presumably the different shape of the dowel will cause the Alchemiter to construct something different. Perhaps the item depicted on the card.
ON: which is
ON: ?
NO: I don't know. It's covered by holes, and the object doesn't have an obvious shape. We'll find out, I guess.

I checked the timer on the Cruxtruder. Two and a half minutes. I was making good time. More running, and I was back in my bedroom. I rushed to place the new dowel on the pedestal.

ON: do you think that timer is how much time we have before the meteor
NO: Unless you have a better theory.

The Alchemiter finished scanning the dowel, and the runes glowed once again. I levitated the result and held it up to my eyes.

NO: I don't even.
NO: It's a scroll.
ON: what does it say
NO: Nothing. It won't open. It's made out of the same material as the dowels, and it won't unfurl. What am I supposed to do with this?
NO: Did we forget something? Is there some other piece of the puzzle we forgot about?
ON: i dont think so
ON: ive been playing around with the controls while you were working
ON: I really dont think theres anything else i can do other than tell you that the atheneum is calling that thing a cruxite artifact

An artifact. That still didn't tell me what to do with it. I felt its weight in my hands, noting that it was definitely heavier than any scroll made out of paper. The purple material, presumable Cruxite, was shiny and metallic, and I doubted any writing would show up on it.

I could feel the seconds ticking away. How much time did I have left? A minute and a half? A minute? Maybe I should go get Spike and get out of here. But if I did, I knew I would never activate the record again. Would I be able to sleep without knowing what had happened here, what the Alchemiter had created for me?

Was it supposed to be obvious? Because I was at a loss. Everything up until this point had made sense, more or less. I was given the pieces to a puzzle, and I had figured out how to put them together. But now there were no more pieces. It was just me and the scroll.

No. It was me and the scroll and the sphere from the Cruxtruder. Up until now that thing had been following me like a dog, but now it was nowhere to be seen. Right now, I needed eyes.

NO: Rainbow. Do you see the sphere anywhere?
ON: yeah
ON: its in the lab
ON: wait whats it doing
ON: twi its acting really weird

I raced down the stairs and through the hole in the wall to get back into the lab. When I arrived, my eye caught the timer. Ten seconds.

Yeah, we were boned.

Where was the sphere? I looked around and still didn't see it. I was about to pull out my Pestertome again when I saw a bright purple light out of the corner of my eye. I turned, expecting to see the sphere.

I don't think I could have seen it coming.

“Spike,” I mumbled in shock and awe. I would have shouted, but words were failing me. I resorted to stating the obvious. “You're glowing.”

And then my world exploded.

[nebularOedipus closed memo “A Fate Carved in Amethyst”]

Years in the future...

Beginning at the End of All Things

Years in the future, but not many:

A DISTINGUISHED DERELICT wanders through through the eroded wasteland of a once great principality. His destination: unforseeable. His countenance: unperturbed. He has time. He has always had time. Time is not something that stopped being a thing, and this gentleman has it in abundance.

He has spent his time learning the history of this land through its scant remaining documents, but he has yet to encounter any life. Not that he minded. Company could be pleasant, but it wasn't critical, and he didn't care too much one way or the other.

He crested a hill and consulted his map.

Canterlot. Or what is left of it. Hadn't the witch said something about Canterlot? He tried to remember. The witch said a lot of things, although not as much as the bard. Unlike the bard, the witch's company was actually enjoyable, their conversations engaging. He almost missed her. Fortunately, he was above such base desires as friendship. All of his allegiances were professional, save one.

The city might have been beautiful once, the Derelict finds himself thinking as he passes the remains of a tower spire sticking out of the sand. Just because he does not appreciate beauty does not mean he is unable to recognize it. The natives, however, must have liked beauty a lot.

It didn't seem to have done them much good though. It occurs to the Derelict that a weaker man might let himself feel superior. His pragmatism strives where their artistry failed. But the Derelict is not one to feel superior. In fact, he isn't one to feel much of anything.

He stops walking as he steps on something hard and unyielding. Looking down, he discovers that the sand has ended and he is walking on a smooth white metal. He allows himself the briefest moment of excitement as he recognizes what he is standing on.

Finally. Took him long enough. He gets down on his knees and brushes away the lingering sand, revealing a symbol in old and weathered green paint. It's a spirograph, the symbol of his people and his homeland.

He smiles. The wait is over. Things are about to get interesting.

===>

Three Degrees of Freedom

Those who are new to the study of paradox space often assume that its name derives from the fact that it does not distinguish between the dimensions of time and space. That reckless disregard, they reason, serves to enable a host of messy time paradoxes.

These students are indisputably wrong. As they further their knowledge, they slowly realize that the multiverse has built in mechanisms to deal with supposed temporal shenanigans. Some of these mechanisms are more sentient than others, seeking to actively and maliciously punish transgressors of the rules, in addition to merely prohibiting them. The truth of the abstraction's nomenclature is much more simple.

Paradox space is a hideous ugly thing to behold from within. Alternate timelines twist about each other in a chaotic dance, and genesis frogs with their self-contained chronology orbit around the massive stars that distort time and space (or rather straighten it, as the small-minded insist). So much of the system seems vestigal and needlessly complicated. And certainly, since these mortal individuals could travel their whole lives and never see more than a fraction of all that paradox space has to offer, the complications continue to appear needless.

But imagine for a moment that we were to zoom out and take in the entire multiverse as a whole, with all of its incipispheres and suns and amphibians. Suddenly, the pieces come together, and you are looking at the most beautiful piece of machinery ever designed. (“And it must have been designed,” continue the same fresh pupils from before, but their debate belongs in a different story entirely.) But they are right when they insist that every cog in the celestial machinery is well deserving of its existence.

Of course, this is all pure speculation. No one has ever seen the entirety of everything at once, because such a task is blatantly impossible. Suggesting such a thing would make one the laughingstock of their local institution. This is why, although the “multiverse-as-machine” theory is thrown about in abundance, not a single soul has the first clue what the purpose of that machine could possibly be.

The important concept to grasp is that paradox space is simultaneously complex and simple, hideously inconvenient and elegantly beautiful. Paradoxilly, there is no adjective that does not accurately describe paradox space from at least one point of view. The point of view determines how this space behaves.

This is where the concept starts to become even more confusing, because while point of view most definitely affects paradox space, paradox space simultaneously affects one's point of view. Thus, one can claim free will and complete dominance over their surroundings, while the surroundings are equally correct in their claim that the individual is at their mercy.

Likewise, when one is presented with four options, four ways to view the events that proceeded Twilight Sparkle's entrance into the incipisphere, the idea the viewer will immediately come to is that they have been granted a degree of control over the story that no reader has ever been able to wield before. But, of course, as they begin to read, they slowly find their choices dwindling. After the first choice of perspective comes the second, after the second comes the third, and after the third there is only one passage left to read (and no more freedom at all) before they end up in the exact same standing as if they had been forced to read the pages in an order of the author's choosing.

They have never been free at all. But as long as they continue to believe they have been offered a choice, paradox space will not go out of its way to prove them wrong.

Equestria as We Knew It (Be Rainbow)

[obstinateNarcoleptic created memo “Equestria as We Knew It”]

Panic is not a pleasant thing to feel. Your chest starts to violently heave, your breath comes in quick and ragged gasps, and every part of you feels numb.

Panic can hurt. A lot. But that’s not what makes it terrible. It’s the overwhelming fear, the shame, that feeling of helplessness that really gets to you. Because whatever made you panic isn’t something you can do anything about, or you would have done it already. You can’t help but feel weak and helpless. And then it starts to dawn on you that you can’t help but feel helpless, and you add that to the list of things out of your control. And then you start to realize you can’t control that list either.

And so on and so forth in a vicious cycle. Panic is when the whole world crashes down around you and won’t stop crashing.

The only way to get rid of panic is to do try and something about it anyway and try to make the best of a bad situation. Which is fine when you’re the only one involved. But when you’re watching it happen to someone else? When you’re far away in Ponyville and they’re in Canterlot? There really is nothing you can do. When that happens, you resort to the next best strategy. You find something to do and you tell yourself you’re helping, even if you think it has no chance of success.

The flexible eye of the PASTR spell had revealed the meteor to me moments before it struck. The large flaming ball of space rock was plummeting earthward directly above the tower. I scrambled for my book and scrawled a warning.

ON: get out twi
ON: do it
ON: now

Then I realized Twilight had left her book in her bedroom with the Alchemiter. I watched Twilight enter the lab, oblivious to the imminent danger she was in.

I didn’t know how much time I had. I did the only thing I could.

I flew.

I don't think I was actually expecting to reach Canterlot in time to save Twilight. Assuming the timer was counting down to the meteor, (and it seemed like far too much of a coincidence to be anything else,) I wasn't going to be able to reach Twilight in time. I was a fast flyer, but not that fast. I don't know what I was actually expecting to find or do.

There wouldn't be a shortage of work for me, however. Canterot had become a disaster area.

As it turns out, a meteor does a lot of damage when it hits, more damage than one would expect based on the size, because its speed and heat become energy. The term, Twilight would later tell me, is kinetic bombardment. The damage sustained by Canterlot was astronomical; the entire palace was rubble, and the shockwaves had spread out from the point of collision, collapsing buildings. I began to feel extremely heavy as I began to realize that there must be ponies trapped in there. All thoughts of Twilight vanished. She wasn't the only pony in trouble.

I think that, if it weren't for all the work to keep me occupied, my thoughts would have drifted back to Twilight. Instead, I flew down to the nearest building, which looked like a sweets shop of some sort. I began digging through the stones, which felt warm in my hooves. I shuddered as I realized that the heat from the meteor was likely being trapped underneath the piles.

Fortunately, I would later discover that Celestia and Luna had begun evacuating the city as quickly as they could in the last couple of minutes. Most of the ponies had escaped. But most is not all.

There. A flash of orange. I waded over and pulled somepony from the rubble.

I don't think I'd ever seen anypony more relieved. Pony Joe smiled at me.

A street down, I watched some members of the royal guard grab a pegasus and pull her out of the rubble. I realized that we were going to need all hooves on deck. In my haste, I had accidentally brought my pestertome with me, contained in the pouch Rarity had made to fit it. And if there was one thing we needed, it was a medic.

obstinateNarcoleptic [ON] began nickering panickyNaturalist [PN]

ON: fluttershy
ON: something bads happened
ON: canterlots in trouble
ON: ponies are hurt
ON: we need your medical skills
ON: fluttershy
ON: ?
ON: please tell me youre there
ON: we could really use your help
PN: oh.
PN: i’m sorry, rainbow dash.
PN: i’m a little distracted at the moment, so i didn’t notice you trying to reach me.
ON: great
ON: but we need you
ON: how fast do you think you can fly to canterlot
PN: canterlot?
PN: i’m sorry, rainbow dash.
PN: i really have my hooves tied at the moment.
PN: i understand that this is very important and ill be there as soon as i can.
ON: for ponys sake flutters whats so important that you cant help us out
ON: we need you out here
PN: i have a wounded animal that needs my help.
PN: i found the poor thing just outside my home, and it’s struggling to make it.
PN: i’m sorry, rainbow dash, but i refuse to let an innocent woodland creature die on the off chance i might be able to help you.
PN: i’ll be there as soon as i’m sure that the poor little thing is safe.
ON: but flutters
ON: these are ponies that are hurt
ON: not little pets that pass away all the time
ON: its the circle of life flutters
PN: HOW DARE YOU!
PN: COULDN’T YOU SAY THE SAME THING ABOUT PONIES?
PN: WHAT MAKES A PONY SO SPECIAL?
ON: ...wow
ON: im sorry
PN: oh my gosh.
PN: oh my gosh, i’m so sorry rainbow dash.
PN: i didn’t mean to do that just now.
PN: please don’t get angry with me...
ON: um
ON: its fine
ON: help your animal friend
ON: i hope it recovers
PN: me too!
PN: i've never seen anything like it before.
PN: its not a species of creature i recognize.
PN: i wonder what it looks like under that hard black shell it has.
ON: be careful fluttershy
PN: you too.

obstinateNarcoleptic [ON] ceased pestering panickyNaturalist [PN]

I tried to remember the layout of the streets. Assuming where I was right now used to be Pony Joe's sweet shop, the Canterlot castle couldn't be too far.

Unfortunately, the castle fared no better than the rest of the city. Worse, probably, since it was at the dead center of the collision. Instead of rubble, the surrounding materials had been ground into powder, or even melted into glass. The entire east wing had become one enormous crater.

“Rainbow Dash!” I heard a mare call my name from within the crater. I flew down and spotted Cadance, Twilight's sister-in-law.

“Thank goodness you're here,” she told me. I had noticed that she never resorted to the phrase “Thank Celestia,” perhaps because her actual blood relation to the princess had prevented her from seeing the princess as any sort of divine being. (If Celestia had ever noticed this behavioral quick, she didn't seem to mind. Although now I'm curious what the princess herself would say in such a situation. Or who's name she would cry out if things took a turn for the worse.)

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

I don't think I have ever asked a dumber question in my life. I spotted a frantic mare standing in the middle of a fresh meteor impact crater, and I asked her if there was a problem. No dip, Sherclop.

“Have you seen Shining?” she asked me, her voice betraying her desperation.

Shining Armor was Twilight's brother and Cadance's husband. “He wasn't with you?” I asked.

She shook her head. “We were in the first group to be evacuated, but he refused to leave. He had a duty as captain of the guard, he said, to get together as many ponies as possible, warn them, get them out. He's always selfless, always keeps his cool, even in danger. That's why he's the captain.”

“You must be proud,” I told her. What the hay else was I supposed to say?

She smiled. “I am. But don't get sentimental yet. Not until we know. Last I heard, he was coming to get Twilight. But he's not here, and neither is Twilight. And neither is the building.”

I felt my throat close up. I had seen Twilight in the final seconds before the meteor hit. I'd watched the countdown timer. But had she managed to escape in the precious moments between when I had left my post and when the meteor fell? Hopefully she'd be observant enough to teleport away. And Shining Armor was about as powerful as she was.

Just as I came to this conclusion, the pouch around my neck chimed. Cadance stared at the tome confusedly as I dragged it out and opened it.

Twilight. I hadn't even realized that I had been holding my breath. But now that I knew she was alive, things were looking good for Shining Armor and Cadance, too. Cadance looked over my shoulder as I began to write.

I wasn't going include Shining Armor among the list of the dead, not until we knew for certain.

NO Thank every god!
NO I'll let you get back to the relief effort then.
NO I imagine there are quite a few ponies who could use your help.
ON: what about you
ON: what are you going to do
NO I'm going to explore this new land.
NO Find out why I was brought here.
NO I'll let you know if I find anything, alright?
ON: okay
ON: later twi

“This is a curious device,” Cadance commented. “Are you really speaking to Twilight with it? How are you certain she has not been replaced with an impostor?”

“You are really paranoid about impostors now, aren't you?” I asked her. She shrugged.

“If she's alive, might my Shining be with her?” she asked.

Good point. I put the pen back to paper.

ON: wait
NO Yes? I'm still here?
ON: have you seen shining armor
NO My brother?
ON: yeah
ON: cadance thinks he might be with you
ON: i hope he is because otherwise
ON: i just really hope hes with you
ON: we cant find him anywhere
NO I'll be on the lookout for him.
NO I trust him though. Regardless of whether he got carried with me or if he's still in Equestria, he's more than capable of taking care of himself.
NO I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up coming to my aid.
NO So chin up, okay? We'll find him.
NO We'll find him, I swear.
ON: okay twi
ON: this is probably another good reason to get back to exploring your surroundings
ON: theres work for me to do here
NO Okay, I'll gojmgfdsgfhgdf
ON: wait what
nebularOedipus [NO] ceased nickering obstinateNarcoleptic [ON]

A moment later, her name went gray, meaning Twilight wasn't at her book anymore.

“What happened to her?” Cadance asked me, but I didn't have any answers to give her.

ON: Respond when you read this

I wrote a response anyway, even though I already trusted her to explain herself. However, she had now earned a track record for not being particularly prompt with her responses, so another nudge couldn't hurt.

“Is it true that you and Twilight summoned this meteor?” Cadance asked.

“I don't know,” I truthfully answered. “I don't know anything. Twilight's looking for Shining, wherever she is. So let's keep looking for him here. After all, he's not the only pony who still needs help.”

I think we both needed some busywork.

[obstinateNarcoleptic closed memo “Equestria as We Knew It]

Be Twilight

Be Fluttershy

Be Rarity

I've Been Everypony

A Long Way From Equestria (Be Twilight)

[nebularOedipus created memo “A Long Way From Equestria”]

GIRL.

The first thing I noticed was the fact that I wasn’t dead. I was shaken, bruised, and more than a little scorched, but I was alive.

YOU THERE. GIRL.

My second observation was the lighting. Sunlight in Canterlot has a tendency to be sharp, falling in strong and bold rays, perhaps due to its proximity to the Princess of the Sun. Now, however, it spread through the room slowly, as if it was drifting on a dull haze.

OR MAYBE BOY? I CONFESS I AM UNFAMILIAR WITH YOUR KIND.

The light was also stained purple.

RISE, GIRL OR BOY.

I groaned and shakily stood up, trying to get my bearings back. I struggled to remember the last couple of seconds before the explosion. The scroll, the lab, Spike...

Spike. I called out for my assistant, but as my vision cleared, I realized I needn’t have bothered. He had been standing over me, protecting me. I’ll admit I blushed a little bit.

Then I got a better look and realized that standing might not have been the best word to use.

“Twilight!” he shouted joyfully before wrapping me in a hug. “Thank Celestia you’re okay.”

I returned the embrace and stole a glance at the countdown timer. It was blank, and it had definitely been more than ten seconds. “What happened?” I asked Spike, and then I got a better look at him. “And what happened to you?”

The purple light was coming from him. And he was floating a couple feet off the ground, like a ghost. And while the top half of his body was unmistakably Spike, his lower half just tapered off.

“I’m fine,” he assured me. “It’s you I’m worried about. I didn’t burn you too badly, did I?”

THE DRAGON BOY IS CONCERNED ABOUT YOU. THAT IS TOUCHING BUT IRRELEVANT. YOU HAVE WORK TO DO.

Wait, burn. I checked my coat and realized that I was singed, and for the first time I noticed the smell of burnt hair. “Then the explosion...” I began to murmur, the sentences being prematurely terminated before completion. “But the meteor...”

YOU APPEAR TO BE A SIMPLETON, GIRL. YOUR CONFUSION IS FRUSTRATING.

“The meteor’s gone, Twilight. You’re safe. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

I was immensely confused. “Then what happened back there?” I shouted. “Something blew up.”

“Yeah,” said Spike. “The cruxite artifact. You probably would have been better off not holding it. I used my fire on it, like I usually do with letters. I had to. That’s how they work; you destroy them to enter into the game.”

“And how do you know all this?” I asked him, skeptical.

He raised a claw and pointed it to his temple. “I know a lot of things now, thanks to the Kernalsprite. After you left, it... well, it made us one. It likes things that are injured, and I guess a nosebleed and exhaustion was enough for it to sniff me out. It knows a lot about what’s happening.”

“Really?” Finally, a source of information. “What else does it know?”

Spike hemmed and hawwed nervously. “Well, here’s the thing, Twi. It doesn’t really want me to tell you. Not straightaway, at least.”

“What?” I found myself shouting, but I calmed myself. “I don’t care what this sprite thing wants. I want to know what’s going on. I want to know what happened to the meteor. I want to know what it was doing in the first place. I want answers, Spike.”

Spike looked hurt. “Geez, I know that Twi. And I wanna help, in any way I can. But you don’t understand what it’s like. Like I said, the Sprite and I are one now. If it doesn’t want to tell you, neither do I. I don’t want to not want to tell you, but...” he trailed off, losing track of his sentence. “It’s complicated,” he finished. “There’s stuff I’m supposed to say, but I’m supposed to do it all fancy-like, in riddles.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “What can you tell me?”

“That you’re the Witch of Dust. You’re one of eight heroes of the Incipisphere.”

“The Incipisphere.”

“Yeah. We’re not exactly in Canterlot anymore, Twi. Just look outside.” He pointed to the window.

The view was breathtaking. The lab had been transported and was now on a cliff-side overlooking a spacious and sparkling bay. Far below me, the calm seas reflected light from a ghostly white sun above us. What struck me as most peculiar, though, was the structure of the land masses surrounding the bay: Horizontal sheets of wood, supported by think columns of white stone. The earth was arranged in stories, complete with the occasional staircase running between them.

ENOUGH, GIRL. WE DO NOT REQUIRE THIS EXPOSITION. I WOULD BE DONE BY NOW IF I WERE HIM.

“So this is the Incipisphere, eh?” I asked Spike contentedly. “I could get used to this.”

“More specifically,” Spike explained to me. “You’re in the Land of Pillars and Knowledge.”

Pillars and Knowledge. I liked the sound of that. “Eight heroes you say? Are they going to be showing up here too? Are any of our friends among them?”

“I don’t know” said Spike dejectedly. “The Sprite doesn’t know their names. Just their titles. You’re the Witch of Dust, like I said. There’s also an Heir of Life, a Mage of Hope, and a Knight of Doom, and others. The eight of you, the royalty of Prospit and Derse, are returning to your homeland to protect Skaia from those who wish to destroy it.”

There were too many unfamiliar words in that sentence. “Hold on,” I asked Spike. “Start at the beginning. Assume I don’t know anything. Because I don’t.”

PERHAPS YOU CANNOT HEAR ME. I SHALL ATTEMPT TO FIND ANOTHER WAY TO CONTACT YOU. PLEASE WAIT.

Spike took a couple deep breaths as he pondered how to best explain things to me. Apparently ghosts, or sprites, or whatever they were, still breathed.

“You are in the Incipisphere,” he began. “A world beyond Equestria. Beyond our planet. Beyond conventional understandings of space, time, and matter itself. A world that has played host to a bitter war since the dawn of time. A war for the control of Skaia.”

“Skaia?”

Spike gestured to the window again. “Look up,” he told me. “See that light in the sky?”

“I thought that was the sun.”

Spike thought again. “Only in the sense that this land is in orbit around it. Skaia is a source of unlimited creative potential.”

“Like a battery?”

“If a battery was important enough to warrant a war for its fate. Skaia is like a seed. Given enough time, it may grow to house incredible power. To this end, the planet-kingdom of Prospit, which orbits around it, has sworn to protect it from harm. In a much larger orbit is the other planet-kingdom of Derse, an enemy of Skaia that seeks to destroy it. Since the beginning of time these two have fought, but neither has gained an upper hand. They are locked in symmetrical movements, and neither one can make headway, forcing them into an eternal stalemate. That is, until we arrived, throwing the balance off. Your return to the land of your birth has marked the beginning of the end of the war.”

Well, this was turning out to be quite the background story. “Sounds a bit archetypal,” I commented. “Warring kingdoms, light and dark, chosen heroes. Interfacing with the sprite told you all this?”

“Well, yeah,” said Spike. “But that's not the coolest part!”

Okay, now my interest was piqued. “What's the coolest part?” I asked him, a decision I would later come to regret.

“I'm like a ghost now! I can fly!” he announced cheerfully, before shooting straight up into the ceiling. Instead of passing through it, he collided painfully. I could feel the vibrations from the impact as he slowly fell back to the ground.

“Yeah,” he moaned as he floated back up to the normal hight. “That didn't go right.”

“How does that even work?” I asked him. “Do you have to consciously choose to float? Is there a maximum height?”

“No idea,” he answered. “Of all the useful information in this thing, there's nothing about how to control it.”

I decided to cut to the chase. “Okay, so what am I supposed to do? How do I protect Skaia?”

“The battle for Skaia is on its surface, but getting there won't be easy. You must first go on a journey, both a physical journey and a journey of self-discovery. And maybe that's for the best, since you have a long way to go before you are a full Witch of Dust. You may never ascend to your full potential. Many don't.”

Wait. “Many? Have there been ponies before me?”

Spike looked antsy, as if he'd just let something slip that he wasn't supposed to. “I can't answer that,” he admitted sheepishly. “But don't worry about it.”

I'm pretty sure “don't worry about it” has never actually worked in the entire history of Equestria, but I decided to table that for now.

“Fine,” I said. “But what does a Witch of Dust do, anyway? Summon sandstorms? Brew magic powder in a cauldron?”

Spike grinned. “Sorry, Twi. My lips are sealed on that, too. But after all, it wouldn't be a journey of self-discovery if I just told you, now would it? But know that your title is more than just your skill set. It's your destiny as a pony and as a hero of the Incipisphere. So while I guess both of these would be within your abilities, neither one fully grasps what it means to be a witch. Or a hero of dust. If you want answers, you should begin your journey and build, bringing your new home closer to Skaia.”

I remembered the glowing ball in the sky. I didn't know how big it was, but it was large enough to house a battle, and it didn't seem close at all. It would be an awfully long climb. “Build? How?”

“The same way you have been. With the server program. This wing will serve as the base for a tower reaching up to the heavens, which your server player will build for you. You, in turn, will build upon your client's house.”

“No,” I said adamantly. “This is where I put my hoof in the sand. I am not serving anypony, not if it means their whole neighborhood is destroyed by meteor.”

“But you already have. Or you will, I guess, depending on when you look at it. Why do you think there are stories of the eight heroes and eight towers on Prospit and Derse? You and the others are going to arrive, because that's how it's already happened.”

“I don't follow.” I had studied time spells, briefly. All I had really learned was that navigating the intricacies of time and space was volumes more complicated than it had any right to be.

“You don't need to understand time. That's somepony else's job.”

Fine. So I was supposed to climb up to Skaia in a giant house that Rainbow Dash was going to help me build. Ignoring the obvious architectural flaw in that plan, it would still be a vastly time-consuming...

Rainbow Dash. She probably thought I was dead. And here I was chatting up Spike instead of letting her know that I was okay. Unfortunately, I had left the Pestertome in my room. It's funny how you use a new invention a couple of times and you're already dependent on it.

Doubly unfortunately, returning to my room would be difficult, as the path was a blocked by a bizarre lizard-like creature slithering through the hole in the wall I had been using to enter and leave the room.

The creature scuttled about on four legs, although I imagined it could have settled for two in a pinch, since its two front limbs, with clawed fingers, seemed to function equally well as arms or legs.

Most striking, however, was that the creature appeared to be made of wood. While its face was clean and smooth, like how a tree gets when you peel the bark away, its limbs were rough and knotted at the joints.

It crawled around a bit, sniffing at the air. It didn't look very intelligent, but I wasn't going to jump to conclusions just yet. “Hello?” I asked tentatively, and it turned, eying me with confusion. Then I noticed one of its limbs was different from the rest of them.

Instead of the rough-textured skin that reminded me so strongly of a tree, it's left front leg was covered in scales of the same color and pattern. The claws on this limb seemed larger than on the other ones, and I decided that I was going to try my darnedest to keep that leg away from my face.

I was still awaiting a response from the creature, but by now I was beginning to figure out that I wasn't going to get one. Whatever it was, either it didn't speak or it didn't understand me. I didn't want to startle it, so the two of us merely stood there, neither one of us taking action. It was looking around the room, getting acclimated to its new surroundings. I watched as its eyes fell on a row of bottles lined along the shelves, its face broke into a disturbingly toothy grin, and it launched, soaring above my head and landing on the shelf. I watched in horror as it began knocking vials and books carelessly off the shelf, grabbing some of the bottles in its from claws and teeth.

“What is that thing?” I cried at Spikesprite. “It's making a mess.” I tried to telekinetically yank one of the bottles out of its claws before it ruined whatever experiment was being performed. I realized too slowly that the original experimenter probably had much higher priorities now.

“It's an imp,” Spikesprite explained. “A pawn of Derse. They descend about the lands upon the heroes' arrival to claim them for Derse. At least, that's the story explanation.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The story explanation?”

“Yeah. The real reason the imps are here is to provide the heroes with combat experience before they have to face the tougher challenges. The sprite in me is nervous about me sharing this, but I'm going to try anyways. I think the reason everything sounds like a storybook is because it is. This world is training you to be a hero.”

Something about the explanation wasn't adding up, but I couldn't quite put my hoof on it. “Everything's structured, like a game,” I said, trying to summarize Spike's speech for my own benefit as much as his. “The real purpose of the things in this world is the benefit the heroes, who are like the game's players. Everything revolves around them. Why? What's the point of it all, then? Where does it all lead?”

“That's the Ultimate Riddle,” answered Spike, and I could almost hear the capitalization of the words. “And it's for you to figure out. If you can, than great rewards await you. If not, then Skaia will perish, and its secrets will die with it.”

I looked back at the imp, who was opening cabinets and throwing the contents out onto the floor. The behavior seemed familiar somehow, like I had seen an imp before. But I hadn't, of course.

“They don't look very dangerous,” I remarked.

“Their behavior depends on the prototyping. They can be downright feral, if the heroes really mess up. But in this case, you prototyped an adolescent dragon, so that's what they're acting like.”

Again, he had referenced the existence of other heroes, other prototypings. But if he had any further explanation, he had already made clear that he wasn't going to share it. “You're influencing them? Are they going to start growing?”

“You want to find out?”

I realized that I did not. I rushed into the pile of junk that the imp was accumulating, separating it. “Bad imp!” I scolded, and then I immediately felt foolish. The imp immediately felt angry. It leaped at me, hissing with its forked tongue. I panicked and instinctively grabbed the closest thing with my magic to defend myself, which happened to be a book. The imp impacted the book with an unnerving crunch. However, this only seemed to anger it further, as it leaped onto my neck and bit me. I tried to pull it off with magic, but it held fast, digging into me. I reared up onto my hind legs, but it continued its assault. I groaned, a mixture or pain and irritation but not exactly fear, as I picked up the book again and bashed it against the creature repeatedly, expecting the imp to eventually let go. It didn't, but when I struck it for the last time, it exploded.

“You okay?” Spike asked, seemingly unfazed by the creature's spontaneous combustion. “I was about to get in there and help.”

“I'm fine. These things aren't dangerous as much as they are annoying.” I looked around at my surroundings, which were now covered in a large number of hexagonal shapes that looked like two wide and flat pyramids and been glued together. “But what is this stuff it left behind?” I probed it with my magic, but the moment I did it vanished.

“That's your build grist,” explained Spike.

I remembered build grist as being the stuff Rainbow Dash was using to modify the building. We only had a limited amount of it, but the possibility that we might run out when building up the tower had not yet occurred to me.

“I'm going to have to kill more of these, aren't I?”

“Eeyup. If it makes you feel better, that's what they're here for.”

Skaia really thought of everything, it seemed. I comforted myself with the fact that at least they didn't bleed. I would fight, and Rainbow would build.

Rainbow. I remembered that I still needed to let her know that I was alive. I dropped down through the hole in the wall, and Spike followed me. I realized that the next room was home to about four more imps. Fortunately, they were ignoring me, and I wasn't quite ready to deal with them quite yet, so I moved on. I didn't see any more of them in the stairwell, but I could hear their chattering on the floors below me. Probably they had been forced to enter the building from the bottom, and had spent the time since my arrival climbing up. I wondered what had taken them so long.

My pestertome was where I had left it by the alchemiter. I hurried over and made contact.

nebularOedipus [NO] began nickering obstinateNarcoleptic [ON]
NO Rainbow Dash!
ON: twi
ON: where in the name of celestia are you
ON: your part of the castle is completely gone
ON: i think the meteor pulverized it
NO The meteor?
NO But I stopped it! I solved the puzzle in time and I stopped it!
ON: you cant stop the meteors twi
ON: no one can stop the meteors
ON: but you can escape them i guess
NO ...What is that supposed to mean?
ON: i dunno
ON: it just seemed appropriate
ON: so where the hay are you then
ON: because really im just glad youre alive
NO I don't really know.
NO The spell transported me somewhere at the last moment, and it took the entire wing with it.
NO I'm in the Land of Pillars and Knowledge, although so far all I see are pillars.
ON: you would
ON: leave it to you to pick the nerdiest possible place to land
ON: if i were you id be in the land of awesome and awesome
NO And you'd be the Witch of Awesome too?
ON: what
ON: hay no
ON: witches are ugly and creepy and stuff
NO Thanks.
ON: id be the captain of awesome
ON: or the champion of kickass
ON: or something cool like that
NO Fortunately, I don't think you're going to get to be the anything of anything.
ON: what
ON: why not
NO Because you are not going to use the client spell.
NO I forbid it.
NO We are not going to summon another meteor.
ON: okay
ON: besides who would i connect with anyway
ON: there are only two of those records
ON: the only pony that could be the server is you
NO True.
NO So what's going on right now?
NO Are you still on the farm?
ON: no
ON: im in canterlot right now
ON: your meteor left quite the mess
NO Goodness!
NO Is anypony hurt?
ON: hurt yes
ON: dead no
NO Thank every god!
NO I'll let you get back to the relief effort then.
NO I imagine there are quite a few ponies who could use your help.
ON: what about you
ON: what are you going to do
NO I'm going to explore this new land.
NO Find out why I was brought here.
NO I'll let you know if I find anything, alright?
ON: okay
ON: later twi
ON: wait
NO Yes? I'm still here?
ON: have you seen shining armor
NO My brother?
ON: yeah
ON: cadance thinks he might be with you
ON: i hope he is because otherwise
ON: i just really hope hes with you
ON: we cant find him anywhere
NO I'll be on the lookout for him.
NO I trust him though. Regardless of whether he got carried with me or if he's still in Equestria, he's more than capable of taking care of himself.
NO I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up coming to my aid.
NO So chin up, okay? We'll find him.

I tried to make my words as convincing and optimistic as possible, but I was probably just as worried as Cadance was. The imps weren't that much of a hassle, but they were still technically dangerous. If one of them got a lucky shot in...

I shook as I continued to write.

NO We'll find him, I swear.
ON: okay twi
ON: this is probably another good reason to get back to exploring your surroundings
ON: theres work for me to do here
NO Okay, I'll gojmgfdsgfhgdf
ON: wait what
nebularOedipus [NO] ceased nickering obstinateNarcoleptic [ON]

I was unable to continue the conversation, as I was dragged backwards by three imps, each of them grabbing a different one of my legs. A fourth imp took advantage of my distraction to run forward and snatch the Pestertome, scurrying up the side of the wall with it.

I struggled against the three imps that were holding me down, eventually kicking one against the wall and the second into the alchemiter, where it landed on the scanning pedastal. I shook the third one off of me, and it tumbled out of the hole in the wall to whatever was down below. However, as soon as I was free, I spotted more imps climbing in through the doorway.

Behind me, the alchemiter came to life, probing the imp with its laser. The imp shrieked and rolled off, landing on the large platform and knocking over the stack of Perfectly Generic Objects. The device hummed softly, and then generated its new payload, inspired by the contours on the imps body. An oversized flower pot containing a bronze statue of a unicorn materialized above the imp, crushing it and the Generic Objects.

Seeing all these imps in one place was enough for me to finally notice that they didn't all look the same. The parts of them that were draconian were switched about between them. Some of them had scaly legs, while others had spines on their back, and still others had sharper fangs than the rest of them. I could easily imagine what one would look like without any dragon parts, just wood, and I began to wonder if they had inherited parts of their appearance from Spike, and not just their behavior.

One of the new imps tackled me, while the other one began climbing onto my bookshelf. I hobbled around, trying to get the imp off of me, but he was holding on even tighter than the first one.

The world grew hot, and the imp squealed. Looking past him, I saw that Spike had conjured up some fire to spit at it, unintentionally scorching me in the process. The imp was dazed by the attack, but was still holding on.

Beside me, another imp was curiously examining Peewee and Philomena's cage. It was a case of unfortunate timing, I knew. Under normal circumstances, Philomena was incredibly competent and self-reliant. Still recovering from her recent regeneration, however, she was far more vulnerable, so she and Peewee were cowering against the edge of the cage.

Looking for something I could use to drive the imp off of me, I grabbed a pipette from the nearby table and drove it into the imp, which transformed into grist almost immediately. I galloped over to the imp by the cage, lancing it.

Only three imps in and I had already become numb to what I was doing. I hoped that the imps really were just artificial beings created to facilitate my journey.

Next was the imp that had taken my book. I threw the pipette with startling aim. I caught the Pestertome (and quite a bit of grist) on its way down.

Five more imps were trying to squeeze through the door. Foolishly emboldened by my prior fight, I I retrieved the pipette and charged into the battle, only to be knocked backward by one of them. In my eagerness to fight, I had somehow failed to notice the broom it was holding in its front claws. The other imps pounced on me immediately. I gritted my teeth to avoid screeching as one of them bit into my ear.

I grabbed the Pestertome and smashed it against the imp, and a rain of grist told me I had hit the mark. But before I could strike again, the book was once again wrested from my grasp. The other imps continued to gnaw at me.

Summoning reserves of magical energy, I teleported out of their reach. The imps, denied their footholds, fell into an awkward pile, while I reappeared sandwiched between the alchemiter and the wall. Inspired, I launched the pot and statue through the air, where it impacted and crushed the imps.

By now the room was completely covered in grist. Rainbow Dash wasn't going to have a problem building. And yet I wasn't able to rest yet. Several more imps entered through the doorway, and a few more crawled in through the hole in the wall. I retrieved the pipette lance and prepared for a fight, but a pinging from the tome distracted me. Curious, I opened the book to read Rainbow Dash's response.

Except it wasn't Rainbow Dash. In fact, it wasn't a name I recognized at all.

dynasticDraconequus [DD] began pestering nebularOedipus [NO]
DD: There we go.
DD: Hello, girl.
DD: This is the part where I save you.

Be Rainbow Dash

Be Fluttershy

Be Rarity

I've Been Everypony

Don't Bleed in the Suits (Be Fluttershy)

Your name is FLUTTERSHY.

You are currently one of six ponies (and one sort-of-pony) stranded on a pilfered Prospitian battleship set adrift in THE FURTHEST RING. It is not quite the bleak and hopeless experience your friends have been making it out to be, however, since you have THE NOBLE CIRCLE OF HORRORTERRORS for company. Your conversations with them are pleasant, although they tend to startle your friends. Perhaps you are comfortable with them as a result of your dreamself's PLANETARY AFFILIATION.

You are a PEGASUS PONY, like your friend Rainbow Dash. Unlike Rainbow, who tends to be A DAREDEVIL, soaring through the skies at breakneck speeds, you prefer to fly with THE SYLPHIC GRACE OF AN ANGEL. Or, at least, with the grace of what you assume an angel would move with. You have never actually met one in person.

Before all life on your planet was obliterated, you worked as a STATE-EMPLOYED ANIMAL CARETAKER / ENVIRONMENTAL HEALTH OFFICIAL. The work you do is based on a model created by PRIVATE PANSY, one of the founders of Equestria and a mare you very much admire. You aspire to be like her in every way. She is LIKE A MOTHER TO YOU, even though she lived a thousand years before you. This is fortunate, because you do not have a real mother. You are an orphan. Which is unfortunate.

You don't just work with animals; you also happen to love them with ALL YOUR BEING. As such, your cottage is home to a number of WOODLAND CREATURES. If anything were to happen to them, it would send you into a TERRIBLE RAGE. In almost all other scenarios, though, you are very meek, and A BIT OF A PUSHOVER.

Your friend Twilight Sparkle has asked you to document your experiences. You have decided to begin with your first encounter with THE MIDNIGHT CREW.

[panickyNaturalist opened memo “Don’t Bleed in the Suits”]

It’s peaceful here. I’m almost ashamed to admit how good it feels to be able to just stop and rest. Yes, I realize that I’m living in the wake of a terrible tragedy, one that has destroyed my entire planet. And yes, I understand that our own situation isn’t much better, since we need to be rescued before we run out of food. But after all the running, I don’t care. The past day has been the most frantic I’ve been in my entire life.

Besides, it’s not like we’re alone. We have company. I feel like the horrorterrors genuinely want to help us, despite how scary they look. But then again, I’m the only one who seems to be able to read them, so maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Rainbow Dash is right, and they’re evil. But I trust them. Even with their wriggling tentacles and gaping mouths and oozing eyes, they’re still creatures deserving of love. I think.

I know that Twilight wants me to tell my story, but where do I begin? How much of my life do you need to know? Is it important for me to tell you that I grew up in Cloudsdale in a foster home that I never much cared for and that never much cared for me? Cloudsdale is gone. My foster family is gone. So no, I don’t think they matter much.

What about Equestria? I even saved it a couple of times, but that didn’t stop the meteors, so I guess that doesn’t matter much either.

I suppose that the eradication of my home world has made much of my past life irrelevant. It’s sad to think about, that so much of what I was just doesn’t matter anymore.

But I guess it makes it easier to tell the story then, if I cut out the parts that don’t matter. The first important thing to happen to me, then, was contained in a box in my basement. The second important thing would be my friends. The third is my pestertome, which you probably already know about.

The fourth was the Dersite.

I had never seen anything like him before. He was a short, stocky bipedal creature, his entire body covered in a hard black outer shell. He was wearing an equally dark suit that had been torn in the middle of the chest, where the shell had been shattered and he was bleeding freely. And somehow, he had ended up directly on my doorstep, like he had been deposited there and left to die. I could still see the weapon that had caused his injuries: a violet-tipped arrow was raised into the air, firmly embedded inside him.

The problem with seeing something new and unfamiliar is that you really don’t know how to feel. I didn’t know whether or not I should be worried for his safety, or terrified for mine. Still, my protective desires took over, and I carried him carefully inside.

Even though I had never seen anything like him before, and so I wasn’t sure if I knew how to treat him, I was determined to try anyway. I removed the pieces of shell that had been too severely damaged, revealing the pale, nearly translucent skin underneath. It looked incredibly fragile, such that trying to remove the arrow might do more harm than good. So I cut off what was sticking out of him and bandaged what remained as carefully as I could. I had managed to stop the bleeding, but I wasn’t sure what else I could do. I decided to count my blessings and hope for the best.

The next day, he still hadn’t awoken when the meteor hit Canterlot. Even from Ponyville I could hear the vibrations. I imagine the earth ponies, who had endured earthquakes before, fared much better than I did. Confused and terrified, I hid under my bed until the chiming of my pestertome and my curiosity brought me out.

obstinateNarcoleptic [ON] began nickering panickyNaturalist [PN]

obstinateNarcoleptic [ON] ceased pestering panickyNaturalist [PN]

At this point, I was scared and confused, and I need guidance.

panickyNaturalist [PN] began nickering ostensiblyPhilanthropic [OP]

PN: rarity? you there?
OP: Fluttershy! What a pleasant surprise! What’s the occasion?
PN: well, it’s not too important,
PN: since i wouldn’t be able to do much about it anyway
PN: because of the patient in my care,
PN: but i just received dreadful news from rainbow dash!
PN: she said that something really bad just happened in canterlot. is this true?
OP: Why would I know? I think that Rainbow Dash, a pegasus, would be much better equipped to answer such questions with any sort of immediacy, don’t you?
PN: why would you know? the same way you knew that twilight was going to go away for a while? The same way you knew she was going to call on us to save the world? you know things you had no way of knowing on your own. you seem to know a lot more than you let on, particularly about recent events.
OP: You are correct, Fluttershy, and perceptive. Indeed, Canterlot was struck today by a meteor.
PN: what.
OP: But it will not be the last city to see tragedy. Canterlot is just the beginning, unless we stop it.
PN: if you have all this foresight, i'm surprised twilight hasn’t done to you what she did to pinkie when she learned about the pinkie sense.
OP: That would be because I have not shared with Twilight what I have with you. For reasons that will eventually become clear, I have been keeping her in the dark, and I will continue to, for at least a little while longer.
PN: then why are you sharing this with me?
OP: Because it helps to be honest with the friends that I can. I understand that you probably have questions.
PN: how can you see the future?
OP: I can’t. It is not a matter of sight. I am not a Seer. I have a friend who helps me in this regard. I believe I’ve told you about my pen pal.
PN: you’ve mentioned her. where is she from?
OP: A place very far away from here. In fact, I have never met her in person, although I hope that I may someday get the chance to. We have been in communication since I was just a little filly.
PN: then how come you’ve only been able to predict the future recently?
OP: My pen pal’s resources are not infinite. She is in no way omniscient. Rather, she has recently acquired an item pertaining to the events that are soon to pass. How this item came into her possession, I do not know, and she will not tell me, on account of what she refers to as “casual spoilers.”
PN: she isn't honest with you?
OP: She withholds information. There's a difference. Nothing she has told me thus far has proven to be false, and she has been correct about enough that I trust her, even if I do not know where her information is coming from.
OP: And she has told me that we are in no danger. These problems will be resolved in time.
PN: i hope so.
OP: Don't worry about it, Fluttershy. We’re going to get through this.
OP: In fact, I’ll see you soon!

ostensiblyPhilanthropic [OP] ceased nickering panickyNaturalist [PN]

After that, I tried to go about the activities of the day as normal, but I couldn’t deny that something had changed. Twilight had been explaining to us that she was on the verge of some sort of discovery, and she had hinted that Equestria might be in danger. Was this the danger she was trying to warn us about?

I thought about my guest downstairs. His condition was improving. I had begun administering a salve that was supposed to help with the healing and a drink to assist with the pain. There had to be some sort of connection, I thought, between my guest and the strange events. A bizarre alien creature showing up the day before a disaster such as this? I hoped that he woke up soon, in case he had any information. But I also was scared to approach him, so it maybe it was better if he stayed asleep.

The next development occurred not long afterward, when the second visitor arrived: Luna, the princess of the moon. She was carrying on her back a large ornate chest. She explained to me that she and her sister, as the heads of our country, were now swamped with responsibility. Ponies were expecting them to lead in this time of crisis, to find a solution and lead Equestria to safety. Given that none of us, not even the princesses, knew where the meteors were coming from, the request was nearly impossible, but Luna was bound and determined to try anyway. Keeping the populace calm, acting as a guiding influence, and preemptively preparing for any future meteor strikes were all tasks that would require the princess’s full attention. What remained, then, was up to us.

“Locating the source of this new danger, and eliminating it, now rests on the shoulders of the Elements of Harmony,” Luna declared. “We know that Twilight has begun an investigation into the origins of some technology related to the recent disasters. The last time I spoke to my sister, she appeared to be making progress. I trust that you and the others will assist her, should she need help.” She lifted the chest off of her back and placed it in front of me, opening it to reveal a familiar set of necklaces.

“My sister and I are entrusting you with the physical Elements, should your situation necessitate their use.”

With the formal business out of the way, the two of us took some time to talk as friends. Not too much time, Luna cautioned me, since she and her sister had a lot of work ahead of them. But enough time for her to describe to me in more detail what Twilight had been up to in Canterlot, and then the disaster from the meteor. I, in turn, mentioned the creature I was nursing back to health.

Luna almost seemed alarmed at this, and she asked me to see him. When I led her to the shelled monkey man, she relaxed, but only a little.

“Fluttershy,” she asked me, “do you know what this creature is?”

I confessed that I didn’t.

“I’ve been studying Equestrian history recently,” she began. “I have quite a bit to catch up on, and there’s one curious anecdote that caught my attention. There have been sightings, periodic glimpses of a creature over the past thousand years. Which would suggest an undiscovered species, if not for the fact that none of the sightings ever predated the founding of Equestria, and, when asked to describe the incident, the witnesses always resorted to one of four slightly different descriptions.”

“Which means?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said Luna. “Perhaps it only means that these creatures were all born around the same time and have quite long lifespans. We don’t know what they are. But we call them the Suits.”

“Because they wear suits?”

She pointed to an embroidery on the creature’s clothes, which reminded me of a deck of playing cards. “This one’s the Club. I was worried for a second, but this one is not malevolent. If you’d found one of the others, I’d be worried for your life.”

Hearing that another pony is worried for your life is never comforting. “At least I got the one that's not dangerous,” I said, trying to make us laugh. I didn't succeed.

“I never said he wasn't dangerous,” said Luna. “I said he's not malevolent. From the research I've collected, he's probably the most dangerous of their entourage. A demolitions expert with a reckless disdain for personal safety. I would hate to see the damage inflicted to his assailant.”

Oh. I was suddenly even more weary of the creature. What if he thought I was a threat and tried to eliminate me? What if his friends came to get him back, and they decided that I knew too much? And worse, Luna's claim that at least the Club was not malevolent had the opposite of its intended effect.

“You mean the other ones are malevolent?”

Luna nodded. “One of them even tried to go toe to toe with Celestia once. The royal guard captured it, but once it was in captivity, it vanished into smoke. Some of our best wizards tried to identify the magic it had used, but there were no traces of magical residue. A natural affinity for teleportation, perhaps.”

I shivered, feeling the intimidation and fear that had somehow made its way into the room. However, in the middle of the bleak atmosphere, Luna smiled, brightening it again. “You're doing a good thing,” she assured me. “I have to get back to my sister now, so I'll leave you be.” She turned to leave, but she stopped halfway to the door. “One more thing,” she added. “Sometime, one of you should stop by the First Manehattan Bank. There’s been a bit of a development there that might prove relevant to your mission.”

And then she was gone. I think that for a full minute I just stood there, so overcome with the new developments that I no longer had the first clue what to do next. I glanced over at my guest, who was still unconscious. Had he been awake, I probably would have wet myself in fright. Hearing from Luna what he was capable of, and what his friends were capable of, only made me more wary of the figure lying on my couch. However, no matter how I tried to imagine him, he didn't look threatening.

I decided that it was time to air my concerns to somepony else. Somepony that very well might know what was going on.

panickyNaturalist [PN] began nickering ostensiblyPhilanthropic [OP]

PN: has you pen pal ever said anything about little black monkey men?
OP: I’m sorry?
PN: luna said that the suits come to important events in equestria’s history. whatever's going to happen, they seem to think it’s pretty important. i don’t think that it’s just that equestria’s in danger, because it’s been in danger before, and they didn’t care. this seems even bigger than that somehow, like equestria’s about to be changed forever.
OP: Well, Fluttershy, this new bent of yours has certainly taken be by surprise. I don’t know whether I should feel inspired or frightened.
PN: the point is, rarity, the suits know. whatever’s about to happen, they’ve got an inside scoop, just like your pen-pal does. something's happening, something big, and they know what it is and we don’t and i’m scared, because how can we stop it when the ponies who know what’s going on won’t tell?
OP: It's okay, Fluttershy. You're forgetting that we have a pony on the inside too.
PN: and you trust your pen pal, even though she doesn't tell you everything?
OP: I appreciate your skepticism, Fluttershy, but you can trust her. I've known her all my life.
PN: okay.
PN: sorry.
PN: your judgment's fine. if you trust her then i trust her.
PN: i'm just scared, rarity.
PN: i don't know what's happening and there's a monster in my living room that could blow me to pieces even though he's supposed to be nice and i don't know what's going on or what to do next.
OP: Just try to relax. Keep doing what you're doing, okay?
PN: okay.
PN: i’ll try my best.
PN: i'm just a bit scared.
OP: We all are, okay? You’re not alone. You’re never alone.
PN: thanks
PN: i have to go check on my patient again

panickyNaturalist [PN] ceased nickering ostensiblyPhilanthropic [OP]

Relax. It sounds so easy. But in practice…

I was nervous. I couldn’t help it.

I needed a towel.

[panickyNaturalist closed memo “Don’t Bleed in the Suits”]

Be Rainbow Dash

Be Twilight

Be Rarity

I've Been Everypony

Alpha Female (Be Rarity)

[ostensiblyPhilanthropic created memo “Alpha Female”]

Your name is RARITY.

Sweet mother of Celestia are you ever FABULOUS.

You are actually not with your friends right now. But you already know that Twilight is going to attempt to compile your story and send it as a distress call after she becomes stranded in the FURTHEST RING. You know that this is going to happen because of the somewhat paradoxical consequences of her decision.

However, you will not be with her on this ship. It is the price you paid to maximize your chances of success. For this reason, you are writing your piece of the story early, before you embark on THE MOST IMPORTANT MISSION IN THE UNIVERSE.

Before this whole nightmare began, you were an aspiring fashionista. You spent ALL YOUR TIME AND EFFORT trying to pioneer the NEXT GREAT TREND IN FASHION DESIGN, although you would have settled for a ROGUE TALENT SCOUT to notice you and maybe earn you an apprenticeship. You aren’t picky.

Of course, none of that really matters now. Funny how the end of the world can change your priorities.

NO: There's no chance of you just explaining where all this is coming from, is there?
OP: I don't think you would believe me. I'm not quite ready to accept it myself.
OP: I'll let you get back to work now.
OP: I imagine Rainbow Dash is almost ready for you to enter the game.
NO: Okay. Thank you, I suppose.

ostensiblyPhilanthropic [OP] ceased nickering nebularOedipus [NO]

I’ve always admired Twilight’s enthusiasm for knowledge. It was her commitment to the truth, her overwhelming desire to see the world as the vast sprawling cosmos that it is, that gave her the power to save the world from Nightmare Moon.

On the other hoof, it was this same commitment that destroyed Equestria and led us to our current predicament. It’s because of her that I’m about to die. And it isn’t going to be pretty. Or painless.

But don’t worry. Death has become a slap on the withers for my friends recently. Even moreso for me. I’ve already watched myself die more times than I can count, so once more shouldn’t be too difficult.

I know that soon, Twilight is going to ask us to document our tale. Unfortunately, when that happens, I’ll be a bit busy, so I’ll take time to tell it now.

The important bit of the story begins on a day I had marked on my calendar years in advance, due to the warnings of a friend. I suppose it was the final test of her honesty. For our sake, I hoped she was lying.

But she wasn’t, and so the meteors fell. I knew that I needed to talk to her, but I put it off at first. In a sense, asking her for help, confessing that I now believed her strange and horrible premonitions, meant putting my old life behind me, admitting that who I was was no longer important in the face of this new danger.

And that’s when the story comes back to Twilight and her sense of discovery and exploration. I said that I admired her, did I not? And here I was being everything she wasn’t. I was afraid to face the new possibilities. How would Twilight react if she knew I was being presented with a learning opportunity and running away from it? I steeled my resolve. The future was coming whether I accepted it or not. When the time came, when my friends were stumbling about in the darkness, I would have to be their guiding light.

Considering the destiny that is now looming ahead of me, I think I’ve grown a bit since then.

But I was still trying to work up the courage to talk to my information source when a distraction arrived: a message from Fluttershy.

panickyNaturalist [PN] began nickering ostensiblyPhilanthropic [OP]

PN: rarity? you there?
OP: Fluttershy! What a pleasant surprise! What’s the occasion?
PN: well, it’s not too important,
PN: since i wouldn’t be able to do much about it anyway
PN: because of the patient in my care,
PN: but i just received dreadful news from rainbow dash!
PN: she said that something really bad just happened in canterlot. is this true?
OP: Why would I know? I think that Rainbow Dash, a pegasus, would be much better equipped to answer such questions with any sort of immediacy, don’t you?
PN: why would you know? the same way you knew that twilight was going to go away for a while? The same way you knew she was going to call on us to save the world? you know things you had no way of knowing on your own. you seem to know a lot more than you let on, particularly about recent events.
OP: You are correct, Fluttershy, and perceptive. Indeed, Canterlot was struck today by a meteor.
PN: what.
OP: But it will not be the last city to see tragedy. Canterlot is just the beginning, unless we stop it.
PN: if you have all this foresight, i'm surprised twilight hasn’t done to you what she did to pinkie when she learned about the pinkie sense.
OP: That would be because I have not shared with Twilight what I have with you. For reasons that will eventually become clear, I have been keeping her in the dark, and I will continue to, for at least a little while longer.
PN: then why are you sharing this with me?
OP: Because it helps to be honest with the friends that I can. I understand that you probably have questions.
PN: how can you see the future?
OP: I can’t. It is not a matter of sight. I am not a Seer. I have a friend who helps me in this regard. I believe I’ve told you about my pen pal.
PN: you’ve mentioned her. where is she from?
OP: A place very far away from here. In fact, I have never met her in person, although I hope that I may someday get the chance to. We have been in communication since I was just a little filly.
PN: then how come you’ve only been able to predict the future recently?
OP: My pen pal’s resources are not infinite. She is in no way omniscient. Rather, she has recently acquired an item pertaining to the events that are soon to pass. How this item came into her possession, I do not know, and she will not tell me, on account of what she refers to as “causal spoilers.”
PN: she isn't honest with you?
OP: She withholds information. There's a difference. Nothing she has told me thus far has proven to be false, and she has been correct about enough that I trust her, even if I do not know where her information is coming from.
OP: And she has told me that we are in no danger. These problems will be resolved in time.
PN: i hope so.
OP: Don't worry about it, Fluttershy. We’re going to get through this.
OP: In fact, I’ll see you soon!

ostensiblyPhilanthropic [OP] ceased nickering panickyNaturalist [PN]

I had tried my best to maintain composure. I had been given a head start in the search for understanding, an advantage rivaled only Pinkie Pie's prophetic Prospit dreams. But this power came with responsibility, and I was not certain if I would be able to handle the stress that came with this position of authority. I remembered the time I had offered to make gala outfits for my friends. Putting on a bold face and overestimating my capacity to juggle loyalties seemed to be habits of mine, and this time I swore I wasn't going to fall victim to such brashness.

I kept it in the bottom drawer of my dresser, hidden underneath my saddles. I frequently considered building some sort of secret compartment for its storage, but I knew that such an endeavor didn't have any practical benefit, as amusing as it seemed. Provided that I was able to properly educate my little sister on privacy, I figured, keeping it secret shouldn't be too much of a problem.

Now, as I removed it from its secret hiding place, I looked it over again. I had never known its origins, although I was beginning to get a clue now. It had been in my possessions as long as I could remember. The front cover was brittle and cracked with age, although I could still clearly make out the title of the book.

nebularOedipus

At least the meaning of the name was clear now. For as long as I had been using the book, which I now knew was called a pestertome, I had always been confused by the title. I knew what the individual words meant, but the meaning of particular combination had been unknown to me or my pen pal. I glanced back at the tome Twilight had given me, which was branded with a much more suitable name for me:

ostensiblyPhilanthropic

Besides the name, the color of the ink, and the fact that my secret book appeared much older, the two were otherwise identical. Even opening them up, the first page appeared almost the same. The page where the tomes reported the other contacts within range, however, were very different. While the book Twilight gave me reported a list of all of our other handles, my copy of nebularOedipus only reported one:

nebularOedipus

This book, and its partner, seemed for whatever reason to be severed from the rest of them. There was no cross communication, despite my efforts. I flipped my secret book forward and began writing.

nebularOedipus [NO] began nickering nebularOedipus [NO]

NO: It's time.
NO: Twilight entered the game first, just like you said she would.
NO: There you are.
NO: What took you so long? I've been trying to message you for the past four hours.
NO: Sorry. I can't keep the pestertome on my desk like you do, considering that I'm close to Twilight. I have to be discreet.
NO: What could I possibly say if she discovers this book? What explanation could I possibly give?
NO: “Hi, Twilight! How are you today? Book? What book? Oh, that book? That's nothing, Darling. Just a tool that you haven't made yet. I've been using it to keep in touch with my secret pen pal I’ve never bothered to tell you about, and I've had it as long as I can remember.”
NO: But you said that she finally invented it, right? So it's okay now.
NO: No. It's not okay. She only made a couple of them, and she knows where they all are. A tome that she didn't make, that only she knows how to make, that has her own friendhandle? There is literally no explanation for that.
NO: Sweetie Belle's nearly stumbled upon it multiple times.
NO: I have to be secret about this, at least for now.
NO: Or you could just be honest. If you want my help, you're going to have to share my advice with your friends eventually.
NO: And speaking of your sister, have you considered my proposition yet?
NO: Considered it? Yes. It would be awfully, well, inconsiderate if I didn't weigh in my pen pal's needs and wants. But I still see no reason for you to talk to Sweetie Belle. And no practical way to do it, either, without begging more questions than I know how to answer.
NO: I'm still not sure I understand your desire to speak with my sister in the first place.
NO: Unless...
NO: You know the future, right? Does Sweetie Belle become famous?
NO: Or does that count as another “causal spoiler?”
NO: I am interested in your sister for personal reasons, let's leave it at that. The two of us share a certain connection, a similarity that intrigues me. However, I’ve encountered significant difficulties obtaining any information about your sister's childhood. Almost as if it has been obscured on purpose. Even my historian friend has been unable to dig up much. So I've decided to go to the source.
NO: You have a historian friend? How bizarre is it to contemplate, that you know me so well that my present experiences are like a historical study to you?
NO: Yes. That is one way to word it.
NO: Hold on. You aren't... enamored of Sweetie Belle, are you?
NO: Sweet Shining Serenade! Heh.
NO: Heh?
NO: Inside joke. Don't worry about it.
NO: I am not interested in your sister in that manner.
NO: Besides, there is already a special somepony in my life, not that she knows it yet. And she’s somepony I’ve already spoken to before, in case you were worried.
NO: I wasn't worried. It's just always strange, talking to you.
NO: SHUT UP, YOU STUPID ANIMAL! GO AND WAIT YOUR TURN LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!
NO: …
NO: Excuse me?
NO: Maybe I misread that...
NO: Oh, Nocturne's Nuptuals, I wasn't talking about you.
NO: I was telling my stupid pet to quiet down.
NO: She gets a bit noisy when it nears her feeding time.
NO: I'm sorry, but let me get this straight.
NO: You attempted to vent your frustration concerning your pet, and you accidentally wrote your response in all capitals instead of merely speaking it?
NO: ...yes.
NO: You make me sound stupid when you word it that way.
NO: Sorry.
NO: Yes
NO: Well
NO: …
NO: Maybe you should go feed your pet.
NO: She can hold her damned horses. She needs to learn that I will not be there at her every beck and call.
NO: Besides, feeding her is a nightmare. Jumping through all those hoops like I'm her freaking showhorse. It's not just a meal for her, it's playtime.
NO: You don't like playing games?
NO: It's not games with her. It's pranks. I have had it up to here with her stupid pranks.
NO: I just pointed above my head, in case you were wondering.
NO: I figured. And I thought you liked pranks.
NO: Not when I'm the target of them.
NO: You can call me a troll if you like, since it's an accurate descriptor. But there is nothing more irritating to a troll than being counter-trolled.
NO: A troll? Like, those hulking brutish monsters with the fangs and clubs?
NO: What? No! A troll is like...
NO: Never mind. I keep forgetting.
NO: There's so many things that seem perfectly normal to me that wouldn't make a lick of sense to you!
NO: It sucks, having to censor myself around you.
NO: Censor?
NO: Not like hide anything. Just finding appropriate synonyms. A troll is like a jester or a clown.
NO: But a cruel one. Does that make sense?
NO: Why would somepony pursue a career as a malicious prankster?
NO: Well, it's more of a hobby, really.
NO: That sounds like some ponies I know.
NO: Rainbow Dash?
NO: Yeah. Do you like to research her too?
NO: No, but my friend does. You could say that my friend is sort of obsessed with Rainbow Dash. Which is perfectly understandable, all things considered. RD is quite the accomplished pony, both in her past achievements and in the game you are about to play.
NO: You know, you are the only pony to refer to PASTR as a game.
NO: Twilight is calling it a tool.
NO: Although what purpose that tool serves, we still don't know.
NO: Perhaps that is because it is not a tool at all.
NO: Why do you call it a game, though?
NO: Because it totally is one.
NO: A game that destroys cities and brings about the end of the world?
NO: Of course! Games aren't fun if there's nothing at stake.
NO: And your friends will come to refer to it as a game soon enough.
NO: And presumably we win and save the world?
NO: Well, the world's still here in my time, isn't it?
NO: You're assurances don't do much to ease my fears.
NO: I don't even know for certain yet that Twilight survived the meteor in Canterlot.
NO: Look, don't worry about Twilight. She'll be fine. Like I said, you'll see her again soon. In person, even.
NO: I hope so.
NO: Hey. Who is literally reading your life like an open book here?
NO: Now you've got a job to do. Soon, it will be time for you to enter the game yourself. At least, it will be time for this incarnation of you to enter.
NO: What?
NO: You will learn the intricacies of your aspect soon enough. Until then, you might want to get used to looking at your own appearance in a mirror.
NO: Although I expect you already have quite a bit of practice doing that.
NO: Thank you.
NO: No problem! Toodles!

nebularOedipus [NO] ceased nickering nebularOedipus [NO]

I had gone into the conversation looking for strength and encouragement, and I hadn't found it. If anything, I was more confused and nervous than ever. To calm myself, I continued working on a new dress I had been designing, even if the end of the world meant I would never have to finish it. Before long, Fluttershy was ready to talk to me again.

panickyNaturalist [PN] began nickering ostensiblyPhilanthropic [OP]

panickyNaturalist [PN] ceased nickering ostensiblyPhilanthropic [OP]

[ostensiblyPhilanthropic closed memo “Alpha Female”]

If this story were to contain any graphical elements, then perhaps this might be the time where we are shown an incredibly close image of a hoof with a white coat closing a Pestertome that is even more battered than Rarity's. The would lead us to assume that the mysterious pen-pal, whoever she is, is a white pony. Or, at the very least, she is a creature with at least one hoof that is white on at least one side. (Unless the hoof was a glove or something, but come on. That would be a major cop-out that would serve no purpose but to make the readers confused and angry. And unless it would also make the readers shout the author's name to the heavens, it is unlikely that he would stoop that low.

But it cannot be ruled out as impossible.)

Be Rainbow Dash

Be Twilight

Be Fluttershy

I've Been Everypony

In the Kingdom of Uncharted Umbra

Across the Incipisphere, the BLACK QUEEN fondly regards her new form. Although the sight is hideous to behold, her appearance too reminiscent of that heretical amphibious horror, she has to admit the physiological change has brought with it certain advantages. Increased strength and a newfound visual perception that she lacked before are only some of the benefits she has been granted by this change. Scales replace carapace, and she couldn’t be happier.

She feels different. She doesn't even need a mirror to tell that she's changed, and for the better. And the knowledge that this is just the first boon of many makes her grin.

Unfortunately, all great things come with a price. The garbage must be collected and thrown away before it becomes a threat to her position. And what perfect timing, she muses as an agent approaches her with the good news. The HEGEMONIC BRUTE bows before her, announcing the capture of the dreaded witch. She orders him to bring in the prisoner so she can get a better look, and to bask in her kingdom's victory.

One down, seven to go, and then Prospit will fall. It always has, and it always will.

A couple of imps drag in the prisoner, and she frowns at the first sign of something wrong. She's not too familiar with the heroes and has never seen them awake, but their kind has always seemed a little weird to her. She's not confident she can tell them apart. But this one doesn't look exactly like the witch.

She takes a gamble and cops a feel. He doesn't take kindly to this, acting first in surprise and then in anger. Fortunately, the shackles hold fast, and the queen moves out of the way before he can kick her.

Yup. Not the witch at all.

Still, it's funny, watching him. He seems fierce, but coordinated. A competent fighter, perhaps. But even masters will tire eventually. She can only imagine how many imps it took to subdue him. But the losses will be well worth it, if she can use him to her advantage.

The tides have turned. This war will be won soon enough.

===>

Recalling What Has Yet To Come

[nebularOedipus created journal entry “Recalling What Has Yet To Come”]

Greetings, aliens! If you're reading this message (and I really really hope that you are), it means that there just might be a chance for us after all.

My name is Twilight Sparkle. My friends and I are the last six surviving members of our race. Of our planet, even. All others were destroyed by the spell we call “PASTR”. We have reason to believe that the coding for this spell may exist on your planet as well. In fact, it very likely exists on every planet, waiting for the foolhardy group that decides to decipher its contents before it bombards the planet relentlessly with meteors, wiping all traces of life from its surface.

I will leave you with only this warning. If you discover the Frog Temples on your planet, destroy them. Make no attempt to learn their secrets, because mark my words, you will wish you hadn't. I never thought I would come to regret learning. But I assure you, these are stones best left unturned. But even burning the writing on the wall will not stop the meteors, if they were always meant to fall.

Paradox space can be a bit picky that way.

But I get carried away. There are good odds that you will never find these ruins, even if they exist. I just want you to be prepared to face the end of the world.

As I have previously stated, if you are reading this message, then praise be to Celestia. I am broadcasting this message out across the inky black fathoms of the furthest ring, as far and wide as I can. If you can read this, it means you have a civilization with technology advanced enough to pick up and understand these signals. And maybe, just maybe, you're advanced enough to come to our aid.

I will do my best to explain, succinctly, the events that led to our current predicament. Perhaps this log will also be able to serve, if not as a warning or as a plea for help, as a guide. Should you find yourself with no choice but to play the most dangerous game, without our assistance you would surely fail. Even with our assistance you will likely fail. What scant research I have been able to perform has revealed to me that of the many times these trials are attempted, few are ever successful. We most certainly were not successful, even with all the assistance we received.

Do not let this knowledge fade away until another hapless group is forced to endure what we have barely survived. If you can hear me and understand me, I have one more request of you. Write this story down. May this be the beginning of a long compendium of such quests. Just as every book must begin with a single word, every library must begin with a single book. If that book does not yet exist, then let this be it. Only be learning as much about PASTR as we can will we ever dream of overcoming it.

Share the knowledge. Warn others. And listen to our story. If you cannot come to our aid, then this is all that we ask of you. For this is a story of war, of royalty and exiles, of rogues and witches and bards, of hope and life and dust, of planets and denizens and rings. This is the story of PASTR.

[nebularOedipus closed journal entry “Recalling What Has Yet To Come”]

===>

On the Shoulders of Ancient Giants

Your name is TWILIGHT SPARKLE. You are a bit of a MAGICAL PRODIGY. You are also a bit of an egghead.

Your intense focus on your studies have earned a reputation for BEING A HUGE NERD. You weren't strong, and you didn't have BEWITCHING GOOD LOOKS, so you took pride in your intellect. Your new friends have come to appreciate that side of you too, and you consider yourself AWFULLY LUCKY to have friends like them.

Since foalhood, MAGIC has always come easily to you, but you have many other interests as well.

Such as...

Well, you're open to TRYING NEW THINGS. That COUNTS AS AN INTEREST, right? Alas, you fear that it DOES NOT.

You like making schedules! And doing research! You don't care what anypony else says, nothing beats the excitement of DUSTING OFF AN OLD BOOK, grabbing a nice steamy mug of HOT CHOCOLATE, and curling up with your number one assistant to read.

What will you do?

You will clarify some things said by your page. After all, you feel you have a lot of explaining to do.

[nebularOedipus created journal entry “On The Shoulders of Ancient Giants”]

I want to get this out in the open before you jump to any conclusions.

I didn't mean to leave Rainbow Dash hanging for a month. I was going to talk to her the next day and explain myself, but something unexpected happened.

My Pestertome went missing. I could only conclude that I had misplaced it someplace, which surprised me. I usually keep excellent track of my belongings. For weeks I tried to find it, but it never turned up again.

I would later acquire another tome, albeit with a different handle. But for the time being, I was cut off from communication with my friends. I know I could have sent a letter by mail, if only to keep my promise to Rainbow Dash and explain my lack of promptness, but a nagging sensation kept me from it. After all, what if the tome turned up the next day? I didn't want to embarrass myself. Rainbow would never let me live it down.

In the meantime, my research with the princess continued.

I should explain. I didn't want to leave my friends behind for this project. They had become very close to me during my stay in Ponyville. But some offers are simply to good to pass up, some mysteries too intriguing to ignore.

The Frog Temple definitely counted as intriguing.

According to the princess, a small team of archaeologists had been investigating what they had initially believed to a temple built by one of the very early griffin tribes. However, the architecture didn't match anything they had ever seen before, and when the building's walls were analyzed, the team discovered an abundance of multiple rare elements that didn't turn up anywhere else in at least hundreds of miles. The only sensible conclusion the archaeologists came to was that the temple had, somehow, been transplanted, moved across the country from its original location.

But griffins had never had access to magic or technology that was capable enough to perform such a task. And when the preserved remains of an equine creature where discovered deep within the complex, the final nail was driven into the coffin. The bones were dated back hundreds of millions of years, back before any civilization capable of building such a temple should have existed.

The word the report had chosen to describe the events was “impossible.”

As a scientist, this choice of wording bothered me. If the discovery was impossible, the team would not have discovered it. The ruins had most definitely been discovered. Ergo, this was not impossible.

But it was still something I had to see for myself. The princess, the oldest living thing in Equestria, had been asked for her input on the matter, and I had been invited to go with her.

As the chariot carried the two of us toward our destination through the arid northern sky, I resisted the urge to solve the puzzle of the ruins. The ruins could wait; it wasn't as if they would vanish overnight. For a couple of hours, I was alone with princess, and I wanted to make the most of it.

In many ways Princess Celestia is like a mother to me. Nearly all of the important lessons I had learned before Ponyville I had learned from her. But I couldn't help but feel that our relationship had become at least slightly strained during my years away from Canterlot, and it felt good to be able to catch up, in person.

The three hours in the air weren't nearly enough. And in the last couple minutes of our journey, as we approached our destination, all conversation ceased, and I got my first real look at what we were dealing with.

The structure was massive, and incredibly well preserved for something that was ostensibly millions of years old. In the center was a obelisk, towering stories above us. Looking at the shape atop the tower, I discovered why it had been called “The Frog Temple.” A single massive statue of a frog sat on top, and I swore it was looking at me. The building was ringed by a circle of eight smaller pillars, each a couple of feet in diameter and crested with a perfect stone sphere.

I would come to spend much of my time over the next couple months investigating these ruins. As it turned out, something that had only briefly been mentioned in the paper the princess had received, the interior of the ruins was filled with symbols drawn in a language neither the princess nor I had even seen before in any of our studies. Not only did it not bear resemblance to any known languages, it didn't appear to follow any patterns associated with language, either. It seemed random and meaningless, and for the most part only consisted of the same four symbols, repeated over and over. Without some sort of key, I didn't think we would be able to translate it.

We finally found the key a week later. In an attempt to map the layout of the ruin's interior, we discovered a sealed room in the basement. Removing part of the wall, much to the horror of one of the archaeologists, we discovered the biggest piece of the puzzle yet.

The room was octagonal, and each wall except for the two a quarter turn from me, in addition to more of the strange symbols, contained a a single large image. I looked at each of them in turn, and I felt an increasing sense of dread. I had seen these before. I knew them intimately. Counting off the five pictures on five of the seven other walls, I braced myself before turning over the section we had cut out, hoping I was wrong but knowing I wasn't. The final symbol revealed itself.

A six pointed star, surrounded by five smaller stars. My cutie mark.

If your kind doesn't have them, then in brief, a cutie mark is a special marking that appears on every pony when they discover their special talent. Now, seeing my mark appear on something older than I was isn't that shocking. Marks do repeat themselves, after all, even if mine was one of the rarer ones. But the coincidence of the other pictures on the other walls was too much for me to take.

A cloud with a lightning bolt attached. Three balloons. Three diamonds. Three apples. Butterflies. The marks of my best friends.

I didn't know how to react to this. But Celestia did. She called over the captain of the excavation team and asked her a very unusual request. It was a hunch, she said, but she wanted them to check it out anyways.

As it turned out, her hunch was completely correct. Some of the surrounding rock the structure stood upon was metamorphic, severely warped by heat. And it contained trace amounts of minerals that weren't even found on the planet.

In other words, the area surrounding the Frog Temple was completely consistent with the conditions of a meteor crash site. Except, of course, that someone had built some ruins on top of it.

Or maybe not. Further analysis revealed that the surrounding stone pillars were slightly warped as well, which didn't make much sense.

I finally asked the princess how she knew about the meteor. Her answer surprised me.

Many years ago, a meteor struck the Canterlot Palace, landing in the gardens. When the guards inspected it, they found a foal inside, who had miraculously survived the descent. That pony was me. Celestia, realizing that a tiny pony was certain to raise questions, gave me up to my parents, who agreed to raise me as their own until it seemed appropriate for Celestia to take me back.

I tried to think about what this meant. Did my other friends fall from the sky too? I knew that Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash grew up in an orphanage together. But what about Applejack? She lived with her family on the farm. She had her Granny Smith, and Apple Bloom and Big MacIntosh.

But no parents.

Assuming this was all true, I asked Celestia what it meant.

“What it means,” she said to me, “is that these ruins aren't from Equestria. And neither are you. You both came from someplace else.”

I asked her where, and she didn't have the faintest idea. But she did know something else that chilled me.

Whatever event brought the Temple to Equestria, and later had brought me, was happening again. There had been half a dozen meteor strikes in Equestria in the past year, far more than were statistically likely. And they were clustered; the rate at which they fell accelerated toward the end of the year, indicating that, for all we knew, more meteors were on their way and would arrive in the near future. What had been even stranger about them, though, was the fact that none of them had been spotted more than a day before they touched down, even though, based on their trajectories, they should have been seen coming for months. It was almost as if the meteors had just materialized a day's journey from the planet.

At first thought, this seemed plainly impossible. But after everything else I had seen that day, impossible was quickly becoming nothing more than a word. I was getting ready to accept just about anything.

But the hidden room, as much as it unsettled me, also gave me the key I needed to crack the puzzle. In the center of the room was a platform with what looked like a flowering bud on it, except the bud appeared to be made of jade. Printed on the pedestal (and here I hesitate out of fear you won't believe me, for I barely believe it myself,) I found a digital countdown.

One month. The wait was aggravating, and as if to prove Celestia's point, three more meteors fell during that time, one of them far too close to Canterlot for my comfort. None of them had anything inside them. (We checked.) In the meantime I tried my best to decode the language on the wall, but to no avail. I began to suspect that, if they meant anything, it wasn't a normal written language, but something else entirely. Besides, I don't think I was really able to focus on it. We were all much too curious about the timer. One of the archaeologists was worried we were dealing with a bomb and should get as far away as possible, while another was concerned that if we weren't present at the moment the countdown hit zero, we would miss whatever it was counting down to. The decision was made that the princess and I would stay behind, after we both promised to teleport out the moment anything started to go wrong. The princess believed that, should worst come to worst, she would be able to protect me.

In the meantime, I had a lot to keep me occupied. I had been working on a pet project of mine, a tool that would allow me to keep in touch with my friends, no matter how separated we were. If it worked, it could revolutionize communication across Equestria. I managed to build six prototypes, one for me and each of my friends. The idea was that each device, which took the form of a small book, was capable of synchronizing its contents with another book, allowing the owners to write in them and have the other see what was written. Each book required a different two-letter signature so that they could detect and distinguish each other. For ease of use, I gave each book a different name based on the signature and the pony meant to receive it.

Rather than sending instructions, I opted to send the tomes by themselves, allowing my friends to figure out how they functioned on their own. I admit, I was a bit curious to see which of them would figure it out first and talk to me.

As it turned out, the first pony to reach me was Rainbow Dash. She has already included a transcript of the conversation in our first entry, but I have decided to include it again here. If you are already familiar with it, feel free to skip ahead. Since this is meant to be an encyclopedia, however, I have decided to err on the side of over-saturating the message. It is better to have this log run long than short.

obstinateNarcoleptic [ON] began nickering precociousPerfectionist [PP]

obstinateNarcoleptic [ON] ceased nickering precociousPerfectionist [PP]

I double checked Pinkie Pie's status again, just in case. She was still disconnected. How Rainbow Dash had managed to talk to her, I had no idea.

That was the first of a number of questions I would later have involving Pinkie Pie. As it turned out, she may have had a leg up on us this whole time.

I was unable to pursue the matter further, as Celestia and I had work to do. The timer in the ruins had reached its last day. When the time came, the princess and I stood before the device, both of us visibly shaking with nervous anticipation. As it turned out, the actual effect was incredibly underwhelming. When the timer expired, the bud on the pedestal opened, as if it were an actual flower. Hesitantly, I tiptoed forward to get a look at the contents.

A scroll. As soon as I removed it, the flower closed with the sound of grinding stone, and the timer lit up again, this time displaying a thousand years.

I didn't find it as odd at the time as I do now, that we had discovered the ruins just in time to witness the flower open for the only time in the next thousand years. Now that I look back on this story, I realize that it is filled with coincidences. Events with infinitesimal odds that, through Fate or Destiny, somehow all managed to occur, as if there were an invisible architect manipulating our adventure. Whether the odds had decided to be merciful to us, or whether they had willed the cruelest fate to befall us, I am not certain. Nor do I believe I will ever be certain, so long as I continue to ponder what might have been.

Unfurling the scroll, I read what I realized was the blueprint of a spell. It was a modified version of a fairly basic spell, one that all students at the Canterlot School for Gifted Unicorns had been taught. The spell was an Emulator, a magical container of sorts that stored the information needed to use other magic with a great degree of finesse. It was, in more simple terms, a spell that could cast other spells.

I was trying to figure out why this would be here, of all things, when I saw the symbols on the wall, and everything clicked into place.

The symbols didn't resemble any language because it wasn't language, but an algorithm. The runes were a set of instructions for casting a specific spell, and the spell had been encoded into the walls of the temple itself.

Four different letters. What other well-known code came in fours? I was looking at a genetic sequence. Magic came from living creatures, so although I had never heard of a spell encoded in DNA before, I didn't want to rule it out as an impossibility. All I had to do was translate each genetic triad into its corresponding instruction and see how they interacted...

Which was precisely why I had been given the Emulator. I was beginning to suspect that it was no coincidence that I had been given the exact tools I needed to succeed. Someone or something either wanted to help me succeed, or wanted to see if I was capable of solving the problems presented to me. It was almost like a test, or a game.

What would have happened if we had been too late? I never would have read the scroll and learned how to translate the symbols in the ruins. I never would have built the Genetic Emulator. We would never have caused the events that predicated our own birth, or the launching of the meteors.

Equestria would not have been reduced to rubble. Of course, I had no knowledge of this at the time. All I knew was that I had finally figured out how to solve a puzzle that had been taunting me for a month. There was no chance I was going to give up now, and so I set to work decoding the sequence.

And now we reach the embarrassing part of the story, but the part I was hasty to mention before. I lost my Pestertome. When I had time, I searched everywhere for it, in the ruins and in the castle, but it was gone. But those moments were few and far between. Now that I thought I knew how to translate the symbols, I spent most of my time making a record of the entire sequence within the temple. As it turned out, there were two separate spells written into the temple walls. One of them was simple, and I understood it almost completely just by analyzing it. The spell created a beacon, which the second more difficult spell would track.

To uncover the purpose of the second spell, however, I saw only one conceivable choice. I needed to test it out for myself.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, the spells didn't function properly, or at all, when the sources were too close to one another. The signals were interfering. I was going to need an assistant to help me. For that, I was going to need to contact a friend.

And for that I was going to need to bite the bullet and obtain a replacement Pestertome.

I crafted a new one and proceeded to name it by writing my friendhandle onto the front cover:

precociousPerfectionist

To my surprise, the ink faded as the tome rejected the name it had been given, displaying a message:

Error 12: Namespace Conflict

This was reasonable. The tome must be detecting my old copy and refusing the accept a duplicate name. I groaned as I realized that while that protection seemed like a good idea at the time, I was going to have to abide by my own rules, inconvenient as they were.

I was trying to conceive a new friendhandle to use when the princess's sister, Luna, found me. While not involved in the research we were doing, she had been watching with keen interest. We had no secrets to hide from her. She watched as I tried again, using a modified version of my old name.

precociouslyPerfectionistic

That name was rejected too. I realized that since the tomes recognized each other based on the acronym, not the name itself, I couldn't reuse PP.

At this point, Luna decided to lend a hoof. “May I?” she asked, and I passed her the quill. She pulled the tome out of sight and scrawled something. When she turned around to return the tome to me, she was smiling mischievously. I glanced down at the name she had given it, which had been accepted.

nebularOedipus

My jaw dropped. I might have begun to stutter. I don't really remember. All I do know is that my reaction made Luna burst into laughter. She frequently liked to joke about my closeness with her sister, often insinuating that which was rather unsavory, but this was taking things a step too far.

Unfortunately, the tome chimed as it accepted the name and locked NO in as its signature. If I wanted to change it now, I was going to need a different phrase with the same acronym. I think I swore Luna off at this point, but it only made her laugh harder.

“It's okay,” she teased. “I'm won't stand in your way. I think your fillyhood crush is cute.”

If I wasn't about to use the book, I would have thrown it at her.

As it was, however, I had plans to make. I opened the tome to contact Rainbow Dash, but I made a discovery first.

There were six other names, as expected. But my old handle, precociousPerfectionist, was gone. In its place was a new one, a name I had no explanation for:

precognitivePrognostic

The hay? The handle color was pink, the same shade of pink yeastedOatmeal would have been if it wasn't still grayed out. Curious, I tapped it and began writing.

Rainbow Dash: Check Mail

In the Kingdom of Untarnished Utopia

Far from the looming threat of Derse, a planet of towering golden spires spins in a tight orbit around Skaia. Prospit’s moon has just finished its arc passing through the clouds of Skaia’s atmosphere, imparting its cryptic visions and prophecies to the dreamers who know where to look. The chain between the planet and its moon groans as the dreamers’ towers are pulled away, once again facing the formless void of the veil.

In a small airport on the planet’s surface, the view doesn’t change much for the Prospitian who works behind the counter, selling tickets. This wall needs a window, he thinks. He wishes that his boss would put one in. It’s always the same old gold.

Someone steps in through the doorway. He’s never seen anyone like her before, but he keeps his mouth shut. Customers are customers.

She makes her way to the counter, but almost stumbles before she gets there. The color has drained from her face, and she doesn’t look very healthy. She introduces herself cordially, and the Prospitian admires her voice. It goes well with her furry white outer carapce. At least, he supposes it must be a carapace; what else would she use to protect her body?

He asks her what she’s doing here, in the airport. The only shuttles run to Derse, and there isn’t really that much of a demand for trips to the planet they’re at war with. She shakes her head and informs him that no, she’s headed for the Land of Pillars and Knowledge.

He tells her there’s no such place.

She tells him to check again.

So he does. He pulls out his map, even though he knows that there are only two planets on it. Wait. What the…

He profusely apologizes to the woman. Of course LOPAK is a planet. It always has been, so of course he can take her there. The next shuttle leaves in fifteen minutes.

She says she’s racing against a clock, and she’ll pay double if he takes her immediately. She places the boondollars on the table. It’s a ridiculous amount of boondollars, more than he’s ever seen before. She asks him if this will be enough. He says it’s more than enough. She says she knows and doesn’t care.

He gets out from behind the counter. For this sum of money, he’ll take her to LOPAK himself. It’s not protocol. He could lose his job. He doesn’t care. He just has one question. He asks the woman her name.

It’s Rarity, she says. What a pretty name. But he notices that her voice sounds a little strained now. He asks if everything’s alright. It’s just the clock, she says. Even a Hero of Time can't outrun it.

He decides that hurrying is probably a good idea after all.