Twilight Sparkle Commits Suicide for Scienceby AlesFlamasChaptersAn Expositional Stroll Down Memory LaneTo Hell and BackEternal Paradise is OverratedDeath and it's Practical Applications in LifeAn Expositional Stroll Down Memory LaneDarkness. Nothing but darkness. Darkness and an absence of feeling. No sensation, no emotion, nothing but empty blackness so far as the eye could see. Which wasn't very far at all, actually. Princess. . . Was this all death had to offer? This oppressive emptiness? Princess. . . Open your eyes, Princess. . . Had she truly gone to such great lengths for such a disappointing result? Or was she trapped in a purgatory of some sort, as punishment for taking her own life? Well, neither actually. Look, Princess, could you please open your eyes? Twilight felt as though she were on the verge of tears. She had killed herself to answer that greatest question, the question that had baffled scholars for millenia, only to find that the answer was spirit-crushingly disappointing. Well, at least she would have something to tell everypony when she was revived. That is, if the burst of energy managed to do it without rupturing something important, Otherwise she would just wind up back here. Come on, Princess, open your eyes. This is getting really tiresome. To think that she might have to spend the rest of eternity here. . . the thought was almost too much for her to bear. Hey now, that's not fair. How do you know you'll enjoy living, or rather dying, somewhere if you won't even OPEN YOUR EYES AND LOOK AROUND! And to top it all of, there was that annoying voice, nagging her about something or other. She had no idea what that was all about. Oh, so I'm annoying now? About thirty seconds ago, you couldn't even bother to acknowledge me, and now I'm annoying? Do you know what's really annoying. Having to deal with an angsty, obsessive-compulsive, death-obsessed alicorn princess, who believes that she can attempt to cheat Death and tamper with the fundamental laws of nature simply because she wants to answer a question! That's annoying! Was the voice. . . telling her off? Had she gone full-tilt insane or- "For the love of all that is sacred, open your damn eyes, or I swear I will remove your eyelids and make sure they stay open!" That definitely hadn't come from her head. Was she really dead then? Or had the spell already revived her and death was merely a state of eternal unconsciousness? "No, Princess, I assure you that you are very dead." Twilight had no idea who was talking, or how they were reading her thoughts. Come to think of it, if she were dead, how was anypony even capable of talking to her? It was after questioning this logic that Twilight became aware of the fact that she was not, in fact, floating through the infinite void. She was lying down on a bed. A very soft bed. So soft, it was almost like it wasn't there. Softness. Softness was a sensation. Sensation meant the presence of senses which meant the presence of a body with which to sense. Therefore she must have a body. To test her theory, Twilight tried to move her right fore-hoof. It was exactly where it should have been, and moved exactly how it should. If her hooves were there, then the rest of her body must be there as well. She'd heard somepony or something speaking to her, so she probably had ears. At the least, she had properly functioning ear canals. And was that. . . potpourri? Yes, it was potpourri! So she definitely had a nose. "Look, this little bit you're doing, right here, rediscovering your body; it's cute and all, but I'm really starting to lose my patience. So let me do this last bit for you." Twilight felt herself lift off the bed. She was flipped so that her hooves faced the floor and then dropped. As soon as she hit the floor, her eyes were torn open by some unseen force. Well, not really unseen. Twilight could see the aura of magic being cast and the pony casting the magic stood directly in front of her. She was rather tall, at least as tall as Celestia. Her mane was reddish-brown and her hair was bright white. Twilight couldn't see the mare's cutie mark from where she stood, but what she could see was a pair of wings and a horn. Could this possibly be. . .? "Greetings, Twilight Sparkle. I am--" "You're Tau Sunflare!" Twilight interrupted enthusiastically. "Yes, Twilight, I-- well, actually, no, I'm--" "OHMYGOSH, OHMYGOSH, OHMYGOSH; if your Tau Sunflare, then that means I've been sent to some sort of heaven! It means you exist! I mean, I've always had my doubts, but--" The pony who looked like Tau Sunflare placed a hoof on Twilight's muzzle, silencing her. "No more words, Ms. Sparkle. Please, just let me explain a few things. First off, I'm not Tau Sunflare. I just assumed this form because I thought it would make you more comfortable. Obviously, based on your outburst, it's made you a little too comfortable." "Heh, heh. . . yeah, sorry about that. Hey, wait. . . if you aren't--" "Please save all questions until the end of my explanation. To continue on Tau: she was in fact a real pony. Was she incredibly powerful and proficient in magic? Yes. Was she a god? That's debatable. Is her presence any sort of indication that you are in Heaven? Certainly not." "Well, thank you for clarifying, but--" "Ms. Sparkle, please. Try not to interrupt. Secondly, you are not in purgatory, as you originally believed. Nor are you in Heaven. Don't look so frightened Ms. Sparkle; you aren't in Hell either. Now, any questions before we move on?" "A few, yes." "Then go ahead." "First: who are you? What's your name? And what do you mean assumed this form? Are you some kind of changeling?" The pony that wasn't Tau chuckled to herself. Or was it himself? Either way, he/she/it was laughing. "It's been quite some time since anypony asked me that question. At least a thousand years. Give or take a century. Very well, then. The name I bore when I walked Equus was Dread. I was, and still am, Equestria's reaper. As for the assuming of different forms, well, that comes with the job. If anypony saw what I really looked like, nopony would ever follow me anywhere, and then how would I get anything done?" Twilight was confused. Really confused. So confused, that to describe her level of confusion, you would likely have to create a whole new word. "Reaper? Your job? What are you even talking about?" "Ah, yes. It's easy to forget what a piss-poor job Celestia's done educating you. Not you specifically, Equestrians in general. Though I suppose when a war ends in stalemate, it's up to the survivors to write history." "What does that even mean?" "Hmm? Oh, nothing, just thinking out loud. Does the term "Harmony Wars" mean anything to you?" "No. Should it?" "No, it shouldn't. Now where were we? Oh, right, you were questioning my occupation. It's funny how trying to answer one question has already lead to so many others, isn't it?" "I'm used to it. It's part of the learning process. You ask questions and keep asking until you get all the answers you need. Now could I get an answer?" "Yes, you can. A reaper is an immortal, omniscient being whose responsibility it is to keep balance between the living and the dead in their respective dimension. Every dimension has it's own reaper, but we all share an after-life. There. Now you know what my job is. As for the shape-shifting... to be honest, reapers as a species are pretty damned ugly. Frighteningly so, even. So we take on the form of the most intelligent creatures in the world we inhabit. But I hate dolphins, so ponies were the next best thing." "So there are more of you? In other worlds?" "That's what I just said, yes." "Even in that world I visited, with all those... things walking around on two legs?" "I believe they're called humans, but yes." "Okay, that answers one question. Now could you tell me exactly why you have to change your form?" "Like I said, my people are naturally hideous. We just don't want to frighten the creature's we interact with with our terrible uglyness." "But you only ever interact with the dead. It's not like they can run from you." "True they can't; but if you'll remember what I mentioned about keeping balance...." "... Wait. You mean you can interact with the living too?" "Right on the nose, Ms. Sparkle. Though I personally have had those privileges revoked." "How'd you do that?" "Not my tale to tell, Ms. Sparkle. If it's any consolation to you though, I could assume the form I took when I walked the bloodstained soils of a wartorn Equestria." "Pardon? Bloodstained? Wartorn?" "Look, do you want me to change or not?" "Uh, sure. Go ahead." "Great. To be honest, I was getting a little uncomfortable, being a mare and all. I'm not exactly used to having... well, you know." "I don't, actually." "And you're supposed to be Celestia's star pupil. Anyway, just go ahead and turn around for a minute. The transmogrification process is a little graphic, to say the least. I wouldn't want to scar you." "I could just close my eyes." "Yeah, you could. But I don't trust that you'll be able to open them again. So turn around." Rolling her eyes, Twilight turned around. Directly behind her was an open window; an opening out of which Twilight could see blue skies and white, fluffy clouds. Birds were singing, squirrels were chasing each other in the grass below and Canterlot Castle was as glorious and- "Wait, what?" Twilight questioned. "Canterlot Castle? How's that even possible?" Twilight was so confused by her discovery that she was oblivious to the noise caused by : crunching bones, tearing flesh the thud of false wings falling to the floor. It was really quite disgusting. But Twilight failed to notice any of it, so engrossed with the enigma at hoof was she. After all, she had performed the suicide spell at her library home in Ponyville. So how was it she'd wound up so close to Canterlot Castle? Was she truly dead? Was this "Dread" simply a mare-napper, playing some twisted mind-game before doing unspeakable things to her? "You know that's not possible, Miss Sparkle." said a relatively masculine voice from behind Twilight. "It's a good days journey from Ponyville to Canterlot. Somepony would have noticed somewhere in-between if I was just casually walking about with an unconscious princess of Equestria on my back. And like i said before, you are very much dead." "That whole reading my thoughts thing is starting to get a little uncomfortable." "You forfeited your right to comfort the moment you killed yourself, Miss Sparkle. Now, if you would turn back around, we'll be on our way." "On our way where?" Twilight questioned, as she turned to face Dread. "I don't even know where we are now." As she finished her sentence, Twilight came full circle and laid her eye on the newly transformed Dread. He'd become a unicorn stallion of average height. He had black hair, a white mane and eyes of a color Twilight couldn't really identify. Some strange shade of bluish-green. "I've never really been sure what this place is called," Dread replied, "but I've always called it Memory Lane." "And why is that?" "Why don't you take a look around this room and find out." Twilight did as Dread said and gave the room a general scan. Something about the way it was laid out was eerily familiar. It was almost like she'd been here before. In fact, she had been here before. This was her old room, back at her parents house in Canterlot. Or at least, what it used to look like. Twilight hadn't had a My Little Gecko poster in years, yet there it was, hanging on the wall. What a great series of books that had been. "You're getting a little off track Miss Sparkle." "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just really liked those books. Anyway, how is any of this even stuff even here? My room hasn't looked this since before I was Celestia's pupil." "Memory Lane, Miss Sparkle. Reapers have to keep track of all the dead in their world, and all the actions performed by those dead. It's a difficult, time-consuming and altogether tedious job. Sometimes we miss a few things, a wandering spirit gets put somewhere it shouldn't be and then the whole afterlife is thrown out of balance. So some millenia ago, the Grand Reapers found an empty pocket of space-time and created this place as a projection of the memories of the deceased, used as a reference point for what kind of pony or person or what-have-you they were in life. After a brief trip down memory lane we make an evaluation of that creature and place them where we feel they belong." "And where is that, exactly?" "Follow me and find out. What do you say, Miss Sparkle? Care for a stroll down memory lane?" "Not really, no. But I did come here to learn. And I'm pretty sure that question was more of a formality anyway. I mean, do I really get a say in the matter?" "No. No you don't. Now come along, Miss Sparkle. There's much to see, much to learn." Opening the door of Twilight's memory bedroom, Dread stepped out and motioned for Twilight to follow. As he walked away, Twilight caught a glimpse of his cutie mark. It was a harvesting scythe overlayed by an equine skull. The image stayed planted firmly at the front of Twilight's mind as she followed Dread through the door. Author's Note No strolling down memory lane will actually be occurring. Please proceed to the next chapter. To Hell and BackTwilight and Dread had been walking in awkward silence since the memories of Twilight's adolescent years. Every step taken since then had been hurried, mostly because neither of them wanted to keep the walk going any longer than it absolutely had to. As they approached the exit to memory lane the pony princess and the reaper let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. This was definitely an experience they were both eager to leave behind them. Dread took the first step into the room on the other side of the exit, a blank white space, the only contents of which were a chair clearly designed for thinking in and an elevator door. Dread stood in front of the chair and motioned for Twilight to sit. And sit she did, trying as desperately as she could to avoid any kind of eye contact. Dread, in stark contrast, was staring at her with a gaze loaded with judgement and loathing and disappointment. "You're reading into it a little to deeply. Honestly, I'm just trying to shame you." "And why would that be?", questioned Twilight. "I saw some things in there that I'm not going to be unable to unsee, Ms. Sparkle. And I've seen some pretty disturbing things in my time, so that's saying something." "I told you not to look!" "It's my job to look!" "Is it your job to be a pervert? Because that's the impression I got, with all the staring you did." "I was frozen in horror! I was alive during the first era of Discordian Chaos, Ms. Sparkle; I've seen things that would literally curdle the blood of most ponies, yet what you did still somehow manages to rank pretty high on my list of traumatizing experiences." "Yeah, well... whatever!" "Whatever indeed." The two sat in loaded silence, Twilight's cheeks flushing a magenta sort of color. She'd hoped to leave that particular episode of her youth behind her and had all but forgotten about it up to this point. The shame of the newly recovered memory burned hot in her mind. "Good. You should be ashamed. Now that that's out of the way, we can get going. Out of the chair, please." Twilight was confused. Had they really stopped all that time, just to shame her for something she'd done on a dare when she was twelve? "Well, normally, Ms. Sparkle, this room is used for reflection, to look back on a creature's life and decide where they belong in the afterlife. But in this, yes, we did just stop to shame you. Come now, to the elevator." "Why though? I mean, what reason could you possibly have to... you know what? I don't care." "Exactly. Now get in the elevator." Twilight, as she was growing accustomed to doing, did as she was told and stepped into the elevator. There wasn't anything particularly special about it. Although, there was something eerie about the bright red button at the bottom of the floor panel. Especially since it was removed by the equivalent of at least four or five rows from the other buttons. But other than that, a normal elevator. "Hey, Dread?" "Yes, Ms. Sparkle?" "What exactly is this elevator?" "I'm pretty sure it's just a plain old elevator. It goes up, it goes down. If you meant something else, you'll have to be more specific." "You know exactly what I meant." "Yes, I did. But I find joy in your frustration. To answer your question, this is the After-vator. Or at least, that's what I call it. It's a portmanteau of afterlife and elevator. Get it?" "Yeah, it's really clever." "Never a more sarcastic statement has there ever been spoken. I could almost slip on your sarcasm, Ms. Sparkle. Anyway, it's basically an elevator that takes you wherever you want to go in the afterlife. Of course, you can't use it without the aid of a reaper." "Of course." Twilight watched as Dread scanned the button panel, as though searching for something. He stopped at the bottom button, the one several rows removed from the rest. He pressed it and chuckled to himself. The glow it gave off was sinister. Twilight looked at the needle that was supposed to indicate what floor you were on, just in time to see it fall past the border and disappear from sight altogether. Just where was this elevator going? "You'll see soon, Ms. Sparkle. Very soon." "What's that supposed to mean?" "Only that we'll be arriving at our destination shortly. Tell me, Ms. Sparkle, can you feel it?" "Feel... what?" "The drying of the air and the oppressive heat surrounding us? Can you feel the burning in your hooves and the weight of a thousand sins on your soul? Can you hear the despaired screams of the innocents who have found themselves unfortunate enough to find themselves here? Can you, Ms. Sparkle, feel the burning hatred and anger flowing forth from the nightmare-scape that is Hell!?" Punctuating his sentence with the wave of a hoof and a throwing back of his head, Dread stood aside from the door and seemed to want Twilight to walk through. But the doors weren't opening. So, what exactly was Twilight supposed to do here? "Is... Is something supposed to be happening?" "Just give it a minute." And so she did. But the minute passed and the doors were still closed tighter than a vice grip. "Are you sure the doors aren't broken?" "Yes, Ms. Sparkle, I'm sure the doors aren't broken. Please be patient." Twilight was very patient. She sat quietly on the floor, finding various ways to entertain herself while she waited. But the minutes passed on and the doors did not open. And there's only so much one can do to entertain themselves in an elevator. "Are you sure they're not-" "Yes, Ms. Sparkle, I'm sure. But they are stuck. Entirely different situation." Twilight rolled her eyes. So far, her journey through the afterlife, aside from that unpleasant trip down memory lane, had been underwhelming. She wasn't sure whether this was because her guide was simply incompetent, or if she'd caught the Reapers on a bad day or what, but all in all, she was regretting killing herself if this was all she was gonna get. "How exactly do you plan on getting the doors unstuck?" Dread sighed in frustration. Sitting down and placing his right hoof to his temple, he closed his eyes. When he opened them about five seconds later, they'd rolled back into his head. Twilight could feel the tension in the elevator rising. Or was it just the temperature? I was starting to get awfully stuffy. "Sateen?", Dread said to nopony in particular. "You there? Yeah, it's Dread." Twilight was confused by Dread's babbling but it didn't take her long to realize that he was communicating with somepony telepathically, likely another Reaper. "Yeah, the After-vator's stuck again. You know, the After-vator. I don't know Sateen, how many elevators through the afterlife could we possibly have? . . . Really? Since when? Actually, never mind. I don't care. Look, could you just come pry open the doors? No, it can't wait! . . . Fine, fine. Yes, I'm sorry I yelled. Yes, yes, I know. Look, could you just try and hurry? Thanks. . .I love you too. ". . .What was that all about?" "Don't worry about. Just be happy we're getting the doors opened soon." "How soon?" As if to answer Twilight's question, the doors of the elevator began to creak and moan. The door inched open slowly, and through the crack, Twilight could a monstrous heat flowing into the cabin. It felt as if a thousand suns had decided to die in the exact same place at the exact same time. And just as quickly as the heat arrived it was gone. "Just a little elemental barrier spell; can't have you barbecuing before you get to see anything." "The doors were forced ajar and standing at the opening was a creature unlike any Twilight had seen. A monster, blood-red in color, with terrifyingly large horns and a stare that could pierce steel. Everything about it screamed pure evil. "Thanks Sateen." The creature nodded at Dread, smiled a toothy grin, and slowly lumbered away. Twilight was almost too scared to ask, but it didn't matter. Dread knew what she wanted to know. "That was Sateen. She's the shepherd of dark souls and gatekeeper of Deadworlds zero through ten." "Deadworlds?" "We'll get to that. All you need to know now is that this is Deadworld zero. You might know it as Hell." "Hell? Why did you bring me here?" "You wanted to learn, didn't you? Well, that's what we're here for. Go ahead, Ms. Sparkle. Stick your head out the doors, but please, don't step outside the elevator." Twilight did as she was told, peering out of the elevator doors; the sights she beheld were horrific. The source of the heat she'd felt was immediately apparent, as, so far as she could see, the whole world was drenched in flames. And in the flames she could make out the silhouettes of creatures similar in shape to Sateen, but smaller. And what in the world was all that screaming? Was it the beasts or. . . something else? Whatever it was, their screams were certainly blood curdling. "Allow me to adjust your vision, Ms. Sparkle." The fires dimmed as Twilight's vision was tinted. And it was then that she saw the source of the screams. In the hands and mouts and under the feet of the monstrous creatures were humans and equines and all sorts of other species. Twilight couldn't help but stare in horror as they were crushed and ground, chewed to ribbon by sadistically sharpened teeth and claws, and, on occasion, thrown ferociously at walls, to become little more than a sickening smear. "Gaze upon it, Ms. Sparkle, and weep. For this is Hell, where those that lived their lives in a cloud of negativity and performed acts of great evil with no remorse come to dwell for the rest of eternity, among the fire and the flames." Twilight felt like she was going to be sick. "It's. . . it's almost too much. . . I don't care what any of these ponies or people did in life, how could it possibly warrant this. . . this torture!?" "Oh, how naive your kind are. And besides, you misunderstand, Ms. Sparkle. This is not where the evil come to be punished; it is where the evil come to continue their evil. The true inhabitants of Hell are not the tortured, but the torturers." "What are you saying?" "Spirits are not brought here to be punished by demons, Ms. Sparkle; they are brought here to become demons." ". . .Wow." "Did I just blow your mind?" "A little bit." "I was hoping I would." "So, I have a question. If the demons are the true inhabitants of Hell, then who are they torturing?" "Projections; magical copies of who they were in life. It was originally designed as a metaphor for self-destruction, to try and teach them to feel some kind of remorse. Now we do it because it keeps them calm." "What happens if they run out of these projections?" "They don't. Now get your head back in here, we have other things to see." "Like wha--it's dark! Oh buck, it's dark. Why am I so cold?" "Oh, sorry, let me fix that." Twilight's vision quickly returned to normal and the heat returned to her body. The spells Dread placed on her must have been incredibly powerful to have had that kind of effect. "That they were; but they had to be. Hell's a dangerous place for ponies like you, Ms. Sparkle." "I would assume so. Now what are those other places you were talking about?" Dread's only response was to point at the topmost button on the panel. "Do. . . do you want me to press it?" He nodded. "Well, okay then." Eternal Paradise is OverratedTwilight pressed the topmost button, like Dread had told her. It glowed a soft white and exuded a warmth of equal softness. Not at all like the oppressive heat of Hell. It was more like the warmth from a thick blanket on a cold day. Just warm enough to make you lethargic but not enough to make you sweat. "Wow. You're really caught up in this whole warmth thing. Weird considering you just came from a nightmare world made of fire." "Yeah, well, it's just. . . well, I don't know. When I pressed the button I felt. . . safe. I know it doesn't make much sense, but-" "It makes perfect sense, Miss Sparkle. You'll see why in just a few second. Literally about three seconds. . . . I'd stand back from those doors if I were you." But Twilight didn't stand back. And so the doors flew open, letting in a gust of wind so strong, that it sent Twilight flying back into the wall of the elevator. She laid there, essentially plastered to the cushioned metal wall, waiting for the wind to stop. But it didn't stop. Or at least, it didn't stop for her, as Dread appeared to be largely unaffected by this strange wind. In fact, he stepped forward, as if the wind was non-existent, and began to recite some kind of incantation. A large part of it was in a language Twilight couldn't understand, but the last bit, at least, was in Equish: "As a grand-high reaper, wayfinder of lost souls and shepherd to the damned, I command of thee, O' Heavenly Winds, cease thine blowing!" The winds blew on. What Dread had planned to accomplish with that, Twilight was unsure. ". . . Yo Peter! Shut it down!" The wind stopped and Twilight fell to the floor. Confused, she rose, rubbing her sore flank. Dread seemed frustrated and tired, but as with most things that had occurred since She killed herself, she wasn't sure why. "I'm frustrated because the level of professionalism in my workplace isn't exactly what I'd like it to be. Honestly, it's like nobody's even trying to be ominous or foreboding anymore. But I digress." "Well. . . alright then. What exactly was that wind?" "The Heavenly winds; a fail-safe designed to keep the impure out of Deadworld 50, or as you know it, Heaven." "Heaven? We're in Heaven?" "Sure are." Dread stepped out of the elevator, into the great expanse of Heaven. He took a few steps before turning to face Twilight." "Are you coming?" "I can leave the elevator?" "Why wouldn't you be able to?" "Well, you wouldn't let me get out in Hell." "Did you really want to though? Did you really want to get out and explore every nook and crevice in Hell, Ms. Sparkle?" "No." "Well, there you go. Now hurry up and get out here." Twilight hurried herself out of the elevator, the doors closing and disappearing behind her. Twilight found the elevators sudden dissipation to be a bit disconcerting, but hey, she was in Heaven. What could possibly happen to her here? Twilight turned her focus away from the topic of the elevator and gazed across the endless expanse of white and blue that was Heaven. Here, standing on the seemingly infinite sea of clouds, everything just seemed so at peace. Twilight could hear the squawks and caws and chirps of various birds circling overhead. She saw phoenixes and sparrows, crows and doves, hawks, eagles, falcons, and. . . was that a pterodactyl? Yes, in fact it was. It seemed a little out of place, but who was Twilight to question the machinations of Heaven? "Hey, Dread?" "Projections, Twilight. Nothing more." "But why birds?" "You'll understand when I introduce you to Peter." "And who exactly is- where did this city come from?" Twilight had looked down from the birds to find that she and Dread had arrived at a city of dazzling white, guarded by and enclosed within a gate of pure gold. The gate was taller than any building Twilight had ever seen, so tall in fact, that she couldn't even see the top of it. It seemed nigh on unscalable. But the gates immense size was not what had Twilight so surprised; it was the fact that they had appeared out of nowhere! Twilight could tolerate the elevator disappearing, but an entire city popping into existence? That just didn't make any sense. "Try not to think about it too hard Ms. Sparkle. Some things aren't meant to be understood." "I guess I can try not to think about it too hard. But I'm still going to think about it. Anyway, where is this Peter guy you wanted me to meet?" "Blink, Twilight." "What's that supposed to mean?" Twilight's question was answered quickly, as when she blinked, a winged human had manifested in front of the golden gates. "Oh come on, now you're just trying to mess with me." The winged human chuckled. He was rather tall, and seemed to be of an advanced age, as all his hair, facial or otherwise, was a pearly white. "Forgive me, Ms. Sparkle. I don't get many visitors here in Heaven, so when I do, I take it as an opportunity to have a little fun. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Peter, the Shepherd of saintly souls and gatekeeper of Deadworlds fifty through forty." "So you're a reaper, right?" "Of course." "And reapers take on the form of the most intelligent creature in their assigned world, right?" "That is true." "So are winged humans common in your world? I've only ever met the types that walk on the ground, and I just think it'd be interesting if more species of human existed." "Well, the answer's a bit complicated. We don't really have time for an in-depth explanation, as you have a tour to take. Perhaps Dread could tell you the story." Peter snapped his fingers, and with a clunk and thud, the gates of Heaven unlocked. They opened silently, swinging inward. "Please enjoy you're time here in Heaven. Oh, and please, don't drink the water." "Oh, um, okay. I'll be sure to remember that." Peter flew off into the distance, his form blending into the shapes of the various birds off in the distance. Twilight wondered just what kind of world it was that could be filled with creatures such as that. "That would be no world, Ms. Sparkle." "Pardon me?" "The inhabitants of Peter's assigned world aren't always the most rational creatures. They go to war for no reason, fight over the most arbitrary and insignificant of topics, and very rarely are capable of self-control. Peter was being over-worked by their constant murder of one another, so one day he descended upon them in the form you see now, though he was much younger, and at the time, he went by the name Michael. His subjects were in awe of him and he used this awe to devise a system that would help regulate them and keep them in line. This system was religion. Of course, it's not a perfect system and oftentimes, they'll fight over who's right about how to interpret this religion. But there's only so much that Peter can do." "So. . . he took that form to capture the attention of his people?" "That and he's got a crazy bird fetish." "Oh." Twilight and Dread stepped through the gates. They shut just as silently as they had opened and then disappeared altogether. Twilight wasn't very concerned with it this time though, as she was too busy being frozen in awe at all that she beheld. It was not the awe she had felt in Hell, which had been born of horror and disgust. This awe was born of sheer sensory overload. There were palaces and buildings crafted from precious metals and built in abstract shapes and proportions that by all rights should have caused them to collapse. The streets were literally paved with gold and the windows were made of purest crystal. Rivers flowed all throughout the city and the waters seemed to glow with purity. "They are glowing, Ms. Sparkle, but I wouldn't exactly say that it's with purity." "What do you mean?" "I mean that, one, that isn't water, and two, it's radioactive. That's why it's glowing." "Well, what is it then, if not water." "We don't really know. It's just something we Reapers kind of. . . excrete. We'd dump it in Hell, but we're afraid that it would give the demons superpowers. And as cool as that sounds, it's something we'd rather not deal with." "Well, isn't there a better alternative to keeping it in Heaven? Aren't you concerned about all the creatures that live here?" "I would be, but as you'll soon see, Ms. Sparkle, there's no one in Heaven to be concerned about. Well, actually, that's not totally true. Follow me." Twilight followed, wondering what Dread wanted to show her. Observing her surroundings, she began to notice just how empty the city was. Not a soul to be seen; just birds. Or rather, the projections of birds. But surely, with all the demons residing in Hell, there had to be an equal amount of inhabitants in Heaven. So where was everyone? Twilight would have given more thought to the topic but her concentration was broken by the not-so-distant barking of a dog. . . a dog? "Yes, Ms. Sparkle, a dog. Just follow me around this corner here." Dread turned left, around an asymmetrical skyscraper. Once more, Twilight followed. Rounding the corner, she stopped beside Dread who had halted at the very beginning of the street. The dog's barking sounded closer now. In fact, Twilight could see the dog, just a bit farther down the road. It was a big yellow thing, a Black Mouth Cur from the looks of it. It was carrying a stick in its mouth and taking it to a rather short human in a thick white tunic and sandals. His hair was rather long and messy and he had a magnificent beard. He seemed oddly approachable, and ,overall, looked like a friendly man. "Who are they?" "That dog over there is Old Yeller. A more loyal dog you'll never find. Brought to an untimely end by some rather unfortunate circumstances involving rabies. I pity the boy that had to shoot him; he loved that dog more than anything." "That does sound pretty sad." "Everything has to go sometime, Ms. Sparkle. Anyway, that human over there, that's Jesus. Now as far as humans go, he's as good as they get. Real nice guy. Not much fun at parties though." "So why are they the only ones here? Is there anyone else you're just hiding from me? Someone that's going to pop out and try to entertain themselves by scaring and frustrating me?" "No, Ms. Sparkle. Jesus and Yeller are the only ones here. And that's because, in all of existence, within the countless eons the multiverse has existed, to have hearts pure enough to reside here. The afterlife is a game of purity, Ms. Sparkle. How pure you are determines where you end up." "I. . . I don't really think I understand." "Then please, allow me to explain." Death and it's Practical Applications in LifeWays to die. There are so very, very many ways to die. Certainly more than one thousand. Some of the ways to die are dumb; some of them were tragic; in a dark, sadistic sort of way, many of them could be considered funny. Some deaths are long and painful while others are quick and painless. Others cause so much pain in an instant, that while the sufferer may feel as though time drags on for hours, they are dead in under a minute. Others still are quite painless, but truly do drag on and on, giving the soon-to-be-deceased ample time to contemplate their fate. . . or seek medical attention; whichever they prefer. But Princess Twilight Sparkle did not care whether or not her death was painful. She did not care if it was painless. She did not care whether it seemed dumb, or tragic, or even funny in a grim kind of way. Twilight Sparkle just wanted to be dead. Now this wasn't to say that Twilight was unhappy with life. Actually, she couldn't be happier. She was surrounded by great friends and the Cutie Mark Crusaders were turning out to be enthusiastic students. For Celestia's sake, she was an Alicorn princess! Well, a princess-in-training at least. But still, she was an alicorn. And as an alicorn, Twilight wasn't entirely sure she could die anymore. But she still had to try. An observer might ask themselves why, if she's so happy, would Twilight want to kill herself so badly? To fully understand, one only has to look to this years Apple Bucking season. The trees had been much stiffer this year than in previous years, and the bucking had been much more difficult because of it. A little too difficult. One tree in particular had refused to give up it's fruits and had been giving Big Macintosh something of a problem. For days, he'd gone back to it, trying to force at least one apple to fall. He'd refused to let anypony else touch it. It became something of a personal issue with him. It could be said that he won out in the end, but that's only because the tree trunk snapped clean in half. It could also be said that he lost, because when the tree fell over, it landed on him, breaking his hind legs, three ribs and fracturing his skull. The bleeding had been profuse and he'd punctured a lung. Needless to say, he was in pretty bad shape; honestly, it hadn't looked like he would recover. The Apples had been worried sick for weeks. Literally. Granny Smith worried herself into a heart attack, which put her in the hospital as well. Applejack and Applebloom had been devastated, afraid that they would lose their brother and grandmother, all in the same month. Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and the others had spent most of that month rotating between harvesting apples and providing the Apples with emotional support. On one of her visits to the hospital, Twilight had been presented with a hard-to-answer question by a rather distressed Applebloom: "Where do ponies go when they die?" Twilight had been unsure of how to answer the question. She didn't know how to answer the question. She didn't know the answer. Big Mac and Granny Smith both managed to pull through without too many complications (though there's a good chance Big Mac will never have children) but for days after, Applebloom's question haunted Twilight. And days turned to weeks turned to months, until the burning shame of her ignorance on the topic drove her to relative insanity. And so began a bout of research which brought some peace to Twilight's mind; that peace being that she wasn't the only pony unaware of what occurred after death. In fact, nopony, or zebra, or griffon had ever figured it out, a discovery which only made her more upset. How could such an important question have gone unanswered for so long? Twilight quickly discovered why the question had gone unanswered after her first attempt at suicide: fear. Fear held her back. Fear of what her friends and family would do upon discovering her; fear of how it would feel; fear of what might lay on the other side of the figurative curtain that was life. But fear was just the body's natural reaction to danger, little more than a primitive instinct. Instincts could be suppressed, but one key issue still remained. Just how would Twilight return to her body after killing herself? Was it even possible? Yet another question, seemingly without an answer, for Twilight to spend her time on. "Let's see. . . out-of-body experience spell? No, no, that won't work. I mean, it's hardly death. Nerve pinching spell? No. . . that would do some serious damage to my brain. I need my brain, for science and. . . stuff." "Twilight?" Spike said, concerned. "Blood-flow stanching? Well mayb- no, that would damage my brain too." "Hey, Twilight!" "Wha-huh? Oh. Spike. It's you. Do you need anything? I'm kinda busy here." "Yeah, I know. You've been busy for the past week. So busy that you haven't slept. For the past week." "Actually, I came across an incredibly useful spell in my search for a death-spell. It allows me to compact the REM cycle almost infinitesimally. I've done it at least, four. . . maybe five times." "Meaning?" "I can get a full nights rest just by blinking." ". . .Right. That's great and all, but-" "Spike, could you hurry it up? I'd really like to get back to my research." "But that's all you've been doing: research. Normally I'd just chalk it up to you being you, and I totally respect your desire to answer unanswerable questions, but this whole obsession with death you've developed seems really unhealthy." "Is it unhealthy to thirst for knowledge, Spike? Is it unhealthy to try and answer one of life's greatest question? "It is when you're willing to kill yourself to do it! What if you can't find a way to bring yourself back, huh, Twilight? What good will the answer be then? And what will our friends do when they find out you're dead?" "They wouldn't do anything, because I wouldn't be dead." "Twilight, I don't care what you teach it about friendship, or how you teach it to act, that thing in the basement isn't you! It doesn't have your memories or your life experiences, or- or- For Celestia's sake, it called me Spork!" "Believe me, Spike, if the clone has to take my place, nopony will be able to tell the difference. Unlike Pinkie's clones, which were obsessed with having fun and nothing but, Mirror Twilight can learn and is actually quite intelligent." "It. Called. Me. Spork. And I don't care how smart it is Twilight, or who it convinces, I'll know it's not you." "But you won't tell anypony, will you?" ". . . . . .No, I won't. But I'll be really upset about it. And, you know, you'll be dead, so. . . I guess I'll be sad about that." ". . .Spike. I know this is to be tough for you. But I have to know. I can't just let knowledge this important be left in the dark. So i'm going to need you to be strong. For me. Can you do that?" ". . .Yeah. I guess I can." "And it's okay if you want to leave for a bit Spike. Watching me do nothing but research how to kill myself probably doesn't have much in the way of entertainment value." "I've stuck with you this long. And besides, I don't have anything I want to go see. Or do. Watching you try to kill yourself is probably the most interesting thing going on in Ponyville right now. You know, in a morbid, depressing kinda way." "Oh. Well then." "There's one thing I don't get though, Twilight. Why can't Pinkie and Rarity and all the others know about this? Why do we even need Mirror Twilight?" "Simple, Spike. If any of them knew what I was doing, they'd try to stop me. And in the event that they didn't stop me, they would probably all spiral into some kind of crazy depression. And depressed Elements of Harmony make for a very unsafe Equestria. Which leads us to Mirror Twilight, who will effectively replace me should this experiment go awry. If they knew about her, they wouldn't treat her like they treat me. They wouldn't treat her like a friend. Which, again, Elements of Harmony, and such. Do you get it?" "I guess. I still don't like it, but I guess I get it." "Great. Now would you be a dear and get me Starswirl the Bearded's spellbook?" "Why? You've already looked through it about ten times. I'm pretty sure you'd have found a death-spell by now." "You never know what you'll find the eleventh time through. True, there are no death-spells in this book, but it's just one out of who knows how many Starswirl wrote. I mean, he has an entire wing in Canterlot Castle named after him! This book can't possibly contain all of the spells he ever created. But it might contain some allusion to a spell in a book I haven't even seen yet. So I just have to look carefully." Twilight opened the book, taking extra care to scan every inch of every page for some clue that might help her in her search. She didn't have to look very far, as she noticed something she'd somehow managed to overlook the previous ten times she'd read the book. On the cover page was the title, as usual: A Compendium of Spells, Practical and Conventional or Otherwise, by Starswirl the Bearded. But under the title, in almost illegible writing was a subtext, which read, 'as approved by the Equestrian Royal Family and Committee of Ethics.' "I knew it!" Twilight shouted gleefully. "What is it, Twilight?" "This book is abridged! The spells in it were run through a committee, which means some of them had to have been left out. For safety reasons, of course. The death spell might have been one of them." "Assuming it existed in the first place." "Hush, you. Now grab a quill and some parchment. I need you to take a letter." Twilight spent the next half hour giving Spike things to write, explaining the whole situation to Princess Celestia: Her burning desire for knowledge, her need to know what occurred after death. She explained the weeks and weeks of research she'd put into the topic and how every possible lead had wound up either a dead end or some philosophical claptrap. She talked of Mirror Twilight's conception and how she knew that Starswirl must have developed some kind of spell pertaining to death, and asked if there was such a spell, that she be allowed to have it for the purpose of answering the question which had maddened her. When she was done delegating and Spike was done writing, Spike set fire to the scroll; they both watched as the cloud of smoke drifted off towards Canterlot Castle. It was several days before they received a reply. Twilight opened the letter with excited anxiety. What would her former teacher think of all this? Would she be supportive, disapproving. . . would she even care? "What does it say Twilight?" "I don't know, Spike, I just opened it. Geez. . . have a little patience, why don't you." "Well excuuuuuse me , Princess." "You're excused. Now, let's see what this letter says. Ahem. . ." Dear Twilight Sparkle, The path you have chosen to walk down is a very dangerous one. The question you ask has baffled the greatest minds of all pony races for centuries, and I believe there is a reason for that. I do not believe we are meant to know what occurs after death. And even if we were to be given such knowledge, it would be a curse, a burden, on all who bore it. Such information would bring about madness, of this I am sure. But I digress. As your former teacher, I cannot condone such an experiment, I am opposed to violent magic in general, but a spell designed specifically to kill the user is beyond the scope of my disgust, and given the choice, I would forbid you from even thinking of using such a spell. But it is not my choice; I am not your teacher anymore. As your friend however I must beg of you: do not go through with this. I have watched you grow from a fill into a strong, intelligent mare, and far more. No knowledge is worth risking your life for and I myself don't know how I would go on without you. But if you will not cease this insanity on my behalf, please, do it for your friends. What would they do without you? What would Equestria do without you? I believe that I have shown just how much I disapprove of your intentions, Twilight. But again, I cannot control your actions. Shortly after this letter, a scroll should arrive containing the instruction necessary to perform Starswirl the Bearded's temporary death spell. Do with it as you see fit, but please: be careful. Your former teacher and concerned friend, Princess Celestia. The sound of Spike belching let Twilight know that the death spell had arrived. She grabbed it from the air as soon as it materialized. "Told you so, Spike." "Yeah, whatever. Have fun killing yourself; I'm gonna go take a nap." Twilight watched Spike climb the stairs, get in his basket, and pull the covers over his head. She knew he didn't mean it.; he was just worried and the worry was expressing itself through snarkiness. But Spike's worries could not keep Twilight from her self-appointed task. She would discover the secrets of death, whatever the cost. Twilight studied the scroll containing Starswirl's spell for roughly ten minutes. The process seemed simple enough. The caster simply had to place a small pocket of magic with a weak detonation spell placed upon it in either the cranium or the thoracic cavity; the caster then magically deactivates every one of their organ systems, ending with the brain. In theory, after the caster has shut down their body, the detonation of the magic pocket releases a burst of energy which should jumpstart the various systems into proper function. According to notes left by Starswirl himself, the tests he'd conducted had yielded mixed results. Exactly half of the ponies he'd experimented on had failed to revive successfully, either because the burst of energy had caused their organs to explode or failed to go off altogether. Basically the spell was risky and unreliable. In one of the notes, Starswirl had even stated that he'd ceased testing because the loss of life was not worth any answers his experiments might provide, which, so far as he could see, were non-existent. Oh how wrong he was. Twilight wasn't concerned with the fifty-fifty chances of coming out of this alive. If there was even a chance she might survive this ordeal, she was satisfied. If not. . . well that's what Mirror Twilight was for. Twilight focused her magic into a pocket just above her heart. Setting it to detonate after five minutes, she shut down all her bodily systems but her brain. Satisfied with the execution of her. . . execution, she threw the literal kill switch on her brain. And then darkness.
An Expositional Stroll Down Memory LaneDarkness. Nothing but darkness. Darkness and an absence of feeling. No sensation, no emotion, nothing but empty blackness so far as the eye could see. Which wasn't very far at all, actually. Princess. . . Was this all death had to offer? This oppressive emptiness? Princess. . . Open your eyes, Princess. . . Had she truly gone to such great lengths for such a disappointing result? Or was she trapped in a purgatory of some sort, as punishment for taking her own life? Well, neither actually. Look, Princess, could you please open your eyes? Twilight felt as though she were on the verge of tears. She had killed herself to answer that greatest question, the question that had baffled scholars for millenia, only to find that the answer was spirit-crushingly disappointing. Well, at least she would have something to tell everypony when she was revived. That is, if the burst of energy managed to do it without rupturing something important, Otherwise she would just wind up back here. Come on, Princess, open your eyes. This is getting really tiresome. To think that she might have to spend the rest of eternity here. . . the thought was almost too much for her to bear. Hey now, that's not fair. How do you know you'll enjoy living, or rather dying, somewhere if you won't even OPEN YOUR EYES AND LOOK AROUND! And to top it all of, there was that annoying voice, nagging her about something or other. She had no idea what that was all about. Oh, so I'm annoying now? About thirty seconds ago, you couldn't even bother to acknowledge me, and now I'm annoying? Do you know what's really annoying. Having to deal with an angsty, obsessive-compulsive, death-obsessed alicorn princess, who believes that she can attempt to cheat Death and tamper with the fundamental laws of nature simply because she wants to answer a question! That's annoying! Was the voice. . . telling her off? Had she gone full-tilt insane or- "For the love of all that is sacred, open your damn eyes, or I swear I will remove your eyelids and make sure they stay open!" That definitely hadn't come from her head. Was she really dead then? Or had the spell already revived her and death was merely a state of eternal unconsciousness? "No, Princess, I assure you that you are very dead." Twilight had no idea who was talking, or how they were reading her thoughts. Come to think of it, if she were dead, how was anypony even capable of talking to her? It was after questioning this logic that Twilight became aware of the fact that she was not, in fact, floating through the infinite void. She was lying down on a bed. A very soft bed. So soft, it was almost like it wasn't there. Softness. Softness was a sensation. Sensation meant the presence of senses which meant the presence of a body with which to sense. Therefore she must have a body. To test her theory, Twilight tried to move her right fore-hoof. It was exactly where it should have been, and moved exactly how it should. If her hooves were there, then the rest of her body must be there as well. She'd heard somepony or something speaking to her, so she probably had ears. At the least, she had properly functioning ear canals. And was that. . . potpourri? Yes, it was potpourri! So she definitely had a nose. "Look, this little bit you're doing, right here, rediscovering your body; it's cute and all, but I'm really starting to lose my patience. So let me do this last bit for you." Twilight felt herself lift off the bed. She was flipped so that her hooves faced the floor and then dropped. As soon as she hit the floor, her eyes were torn open by some unseen force. Well, not really unseen. Twilight could see the aura of magic being cast and the pony casting the magic stood directly in front of her. She was rather tall, at least as tall as Celestia. Her mane was reddish-brown and her hair was bright white. Twilight couldn't see the mare's cutie mark from where she stood, but what she could see was a pair of wings and a horn. Could this possibly be. . .? "Greetings, Twilight Sparkle. I am--" "You're Tau Sunflare!" Twilight interrupted enthusiastically. "Yes, Twilight, I-- well, actually, no, I'm--" "OHMYGOSH, OHMYGOSH, OHMYGOSH; if your Tau Sunflare, then that means I've been sent to some sort of heaven! It means you exist! I mean, I've always had my doubts, but--" The pony who looked like Tau Sunflare placed a hoof on Twilight's muzzle, silencing her. "No more words, Ms. Sparkle. Please, just let me explain a few things. First off, I'm not Tau Sunflare. I just assumed this form because I thought it would make you more comfortable. Obviously, based on your outburst, it's made you a little too comfortable." "Heh, heh. . . yeah, sorry about that. Hey, wait. . . if you aren't--" "Please save all questions until the end of my explanation. To continue on Tau: she was in fact a real pony. Was she incredibly powerful and proficient in magic? Yes. Was she a god? That's debatable. Is her presence any sort of indication that you are in Heaven? Certainly not." "Well, thank you for clarifying, but--" "Ms. Sparkle, please. Try not to interrupt. Secondly, you are not in purgatory, as you originally believed. Nor are you in Heaven. Don't look so frightened Ms. Sparkle; you aren't in Hell either. Now, any questions before we move on?" "A few, yes." "Then go ahead." "First: who are you? What's your name? And what do you mean assumed this form? Are you some kind of changeling?" The pony that wasn't Tau chuckled to herself. Or was it himself? Either way, he/she/it was laughing. "It's been quite some time since anypony asked me that question. At least a thousand years. Give or take a century. Very well, then. The name I bore when I walked Equus was Dread. I was, and still am, Equestria's reaper. As for the assuming of different forms, well, that comes with the job. If anypony saw what I really looked like, nopony would ever follow me anywhere, and then how would I get anything done?" Twilight was confused. Really confused. So confused, that to describe her level of confusion, you would likely have to create a whole new word. "Reaper? Your job? What are you even talking about?" "Ah, yes. It's easy to forget what a piss-poor job Celestia's done educating you. Not you specifically, Equestrians in general. Though I suppose when a war ends in stalemate, it's up to the survivors to write history." "What does that even mean?" "Hmm? Oh, nothing, just thinking out loud. Does the term "Harmony Wars" mean anything to you?" "No. Should it?" "No, it shouldn't. Now where were we? Oh, right, you were questioning my occupation. It's funny how trying to answer one question has already lead to so many others, isn't it?" "I'm used to it. It's part of the learning process. You ask questions and keep asking until you get all the answers you need. Now could I get an answer?" "Yes, you can. A reaper is an immortal, omniscient being whose responsibility it is to keep balance between the living and the dead in their respective dimension. Every dimension has it's own reaper, but we all share an after-life. There. Now you know what my job is. As for the shape-shifting... to be honest, reapers as a species are pretty damned ugly. Frighteningly so, even. So we take on the form of the most intelligent creatures in the world we inhabit. But I hate dolphins, so ponies were the next best thing." "So there are more of you? In other worlds?" "That's what I just said, yes." "Even in that world I visited, with all those... things walking around on two legs?" "I believe they're called humans, but yes." "Okay, that answers one question. Now could you tell me exactly why you have to change your form?" "Like I said, my people are naturally hideous. We just don't want to frighten the creature's we interact with with our terrible uglyness." "But you only ever interact with the dead. It's not like they can run from you." "True they can't; but if you'll remember what I mentioned about keeping balance...." "... Wait. You mean you can interact with the living too?" "Right on the nose, Ms. Sparkle. Though I personally have had those privileges revoked." "How'd you do that?" "Not my tale to tell, Ms. Sparkle. If it's any consolation to you though, I could assume the form I took when I walked the bloodstained soils of a wartorn Equestria." "Pardon? Bloodstained? Wartorn?" "Look, do you want me to change or not?" "Uh, sure. Go ahead." "Great. To be honest, I was getting a little uncomfortable, being a mare and all. I'm not exactly used to having... well, you know." "I don't, actually." "And you're supposed to be Celestia's star pupil. Anyway, just go ahead and turn around for a minute. The transmogrification process is a little graphic, to say the least. I wouldn't want to scar you." "I could just close my eyes." "Yeah, you could. But I don't trust that you'll be able to open them again. So turn around." Rolling her eyes, Twilight turned around. Directly behind her was an open window; an opening out of which Twilight could see blue skies and white, fluffy clouds. Birds were singing, squirrels were chasing each other in the grass below and Canterlot Castle was as glorious and- "Wait, what?" Twilight questioned. "Canterlot Castle? How's that even possible?" Twilight was so confused by her discovery that she was oblivious to the noise caused by : crunching bones, tearing flesh the thud of false wings falling to the floor. It was really quite disgusting. But Twilight failed to notice any of it, so engrossed with the enigma at hoof was she. After all, she had performed the suicide spell at her library home in Ponyville. So how was it she'd wound up so close to Canterlot Castle? Was she truly dead? Was this "Dread" simply a mare-napper, playing some twisted mind-game before doing unspeakable things to her? "You know that's not possible, Miss Sparkle." said a relatively masculine voice from behind Twilight. "It's a good days journey from Ponyville to Canterlot. Somepony would have noticed somewhere in-between if I was just casually walking about with an unconscious princess of Equestria on my back. And like i said before, you are very much dead." "That whole reading my thoughts thing is starting to get a little uncomfortable." "You forfeited your right to comfort the moment you killed yourself, Miss Sparkle. Now, if you would turn back around, we'll be on our way." "On our way where?" Twilight questioned, as she turned to face Dread. "I don't even know where we are now." As she finished her sentence, Twilight came full circle and laid her eye on the newly transformed Dread. He'd become a unicorn stallion of average height. He had black hair, a white mane and eyes of a color Twilight couldn't really identify. Some strange shade of bluish-green. "I've never really been sure what this place is called," Dread replied, "but I've always called it Memory Lane." "And why is that?" "Why don't you take a look around this room and find out." Twilight did as Dread said and gave the room a general scan. Something about the way it was laid out was eerily familiar. It was almost like she'd been here before. In fact, she had been here before. This was her old room, back at her parents house in Canterlot. Or at least, what it used to look like. Twilight hadn't had a My Little Gecko poster in years, yet there it was, hanging on the wall. What a great series of books that had been. "You're getting a little off track Miss Sparkle." "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just really liked those books. Anyway, how is any of this even stuff even here? My room hasn't looked this since before I was Celestia's pupil." "Memory Lane, Miss Sparkle. Reapers have to keep track of all the dead in their world, and all the actions performed by those dead. It's a difficult, time-consuming and altogether tedious job. Sometimes we miss a few things, a wandering spirit gets put somewhere it shouldn't be and then the whole afterlife is thrown out of balance. So some millenia ago, the Grand Reapers found an empty pocket of space-time and created this place as a projection of the memories of the deceased, used as a reference point for what kind of pony or person or what-have-you they were in life. After a brief trip down memory lane we make an evaluation of that creature and place them where we feel they belong." "And where is that, exactly?" "Follow me and find out. What do you say, Miss Sparkle? Care for a stroll down memory lane?" "Not really, no. But I did come here to learn. And I'm pretty sure that question was more of a formality anyway. I mean, do I really get a say in the matter?" "No. No you don't. Now come along, Miss Sparkle. There's much to see, much to learn." Opening the door of Twilight's memory bedroom, Dread stepped out and motioned for Twilight to follow. As he walked away, Twilight caught a glimpse of his cutie mark. It was a harvesting scythe overlayed by an equine skull. The image stayed planted firmly at the front of Twilight's mind as she followed Dread through the door. Author's Note No strolling down memory lane will actually be occurring. Please proceed to the next chapter.
To Hell and BackTwilight and Dread had been walking in awkward silence since the memories of Twilight's adolescent years. Every step taken since then had been hurried, mostly because neither of them wanted to keep the walk going any longer than it absolutely had to. As they approached the exit to memory lane the pony princess and the reaper let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. This was definitely an experience they were both eager to leave behind them. Dread took the first step into the room on the other side of the exit, a blank white space, the only contents of which were a chair clearly designed for thinking in and an elevator door. Dread stood in front of the chair and motioned for Twilight to sit. And sit she did, trying as desperately as she could to avoid any kind of eye contact. Dread, in stark contrast, was staring at her with a gaze loaded with judgement and loathing and disappointment. "You're reading into it a little to deeply. Honestly, I'm just trying to shame you." "And why would that be?", questioned Twilight. "I saw some things in there that I'm not going to be unable to unsee, Ms. Sparkle. And I've seen some pretty disturbing things in my time, so that's saying something." "I told you not to look!" "It's my job to look!" "Is it your job to be a pervert? Because that's the impression I got, with all the staring you did." "I was frozen in horror! I was alive during the first era of Discordian Chaos, Ms. Sparkle; I've seen things that would literally curdle the blood of most ponies, yet what you did still somehow manages to rank pretty high on my list of traumatizing experiences." "Yeah, well... whatever!" "Whatever indeed." The two sat in loaded silence, Twilight's cheeks flushing a magenta sort of color. She'd hoped to leave that particular episode of her youth behind her and had all but forgotten about it up to this point. The shame of the newly recovered memory burned hot in her mind. "Good. You should be ashamed. Now that that's out of the way, we can get going. Out of the chair, please." Twilight was confused. Had they really stopped all that time, just to shame her for something she'd done on a dare when she was twelve? "Well, normally, Ms. Sparkle, this room is used for reflection, to look back on a creature's life and decide where they belong in the afterlife. But in this, yes, we did just stop to shame you. Come now, to the elevator." "Why though? I mean, what reason could you possibly have to... you know what? I don't care." "Exactly. Now get in the elevator." Twilight, as she was growing accustomed to doing, did as she was told and stepped into the elevator. There wasn't anything particularly special about it. Although, there was something eerie about the bright red button at the bottom of the floor panel. Especially since it was removed by the equivalent of at least four or five rows from the other buttons. But other than that, a normal elevator. "Hey, Dread?" "Yes, Ms. Sparkle?" "What exactly is this elevator?" "I'm pretty sure it's just a plain old elevator. It goes up, it goes down. If you meant something else, you'll have to be more specific." "You know exactly what I meant." "Yes, I did. But I find joy in your frustration. To answer your question, this is the After-vator. Or at least, that's what I call it. It's a portmanteau of afterlife and elevator. Get it?" "Yeah, it's really clever." "Never a more sarcastic statement has there ever been spoken. I could almost slip on your sarcasm, Ms. Sparkle. Anyway, it's basically an elevator that takes you wherever you want to go in the afterlife. Of course, you can't use it without the aid of a reaper." "Of course." Twilight watched as Dread scanned the button panel, as though searching for something. He stopped at the bottom button, the one several rows removed from the rest. He pressed it and chuckled to himself. The glow it gave off was sinister. Twilight looked at the needle that was supposed to indicate what floor you were on, just in time to see it fall past the border and disappear from sight altogether. Just where was this elevator going? "You'll see soon, Ms. Sparkle. Very soon." "What's that supposed to mean?" "Only that we'll be arriving at our destination shortly. Tell me, Ms. Sparkle, can you feel it?" "Feel... what?" "The drying of the air and the oppressive heat surrounding us? Can you feel the burning in your hooves and the weight of a thousand sins on your soul? Can you hear the despaired screams of the innocents who have found themselves unfortunate enough to find themselves here? Can you, Ms. Sparkle, feel the burning hatred and anger flowing forth from the nightmare-scape that is Hell!?" Punctuating his sentence with the wave of a hoof and a throwing back of his head, Dread stood aside from the door and seemed to want Twilight to walk through. But the doors weren't opening. So, what exactly was Twilight supposed to do here? "Is... Is something supposed to be happening?" "Just give it a minute." And so she did. But the minute passed and the doors were still closed tighter than a vice grip. "Are you sure the doors aren't broken?" "Yes, Ms. Sparkle, I'm sure the doors aren't broken. Please be patient." Twilight was very patient. She sat quietly on the floor, finding various ways to entertain herself while she waited. But the minutes passed on and the doors did not open. And there's only so much one can do to entertain themselves in an elevator. "Are you sure they're not-" "Yes, Ms. Sparkle, I'm sure. But they are stuck. Entirely different situation." Twilight rolled her eyes. So far, her journey through the afterlife, aside from that unpleasant trip down memory lane, had been underwhelming. She wasn't sure whether this was because her guide was simply incompetent, or if she'd caught the Reapers on a bad day or what, but all in all, she was regretting killing herself if this was all she was gonna get. "How exactly do you plan on getting the doors unstuck?" Dread sighed in frustration. Sitting down and placing his right hoof to his temple, he closed his eyes. When he opened them about five seconds later, they'd rolled back into his head. Twilight could feel the tension in the elevator rising. Or was it just the temperature? I was starting to get awfully stuffy. "Sateen?", Dread said to nopony in particular. "You there? Yeah, it's Dread." Twilight was confused by Dread's babbling but it didn't take her long to realize that he was communicating with somepony telepathically, likely another Reaper. "Yeah, the After-vator's stuck again. You know, the After-vator. I don't know Sateen, how many elevators through the afterlife could we possibly have? . . . Really? Since when? Actually, never mind. I don't care. Look, could you just come pry open the doors? No, it can't wait! . . . Fine, fine. Yes, I'm sorry I yelled. Yes, yes, I know. Look, could you just try and hurry? Thanks. . .I love you too. ". . .What was that all about?" "Don't worry about. Just be happy we're getting the doors opened soon." "How soon?" As if to answer Twilight's question, the doors of the elevator began to creak and moan. The door inched open slowly, and through the crack, Twilight could a monstrous heat flowing into the cabin. It felt as if a thousand suns had decided to die in the exact same place at the exact same time. And just as quickly as the heat arrived it was gone. "Just a little elemental barrier spell; can't have you barbecuing before you get to see anything." "The doors were forced ajar and standing at the opening was a creature unlike any Twilight had seen. A monster, blood-red in color, with terrifyingly large horns and a stare that could pierce steel. Everything about it screamed pure evil. "Thanks Sateen." The creature nodded at Dread, smiled a toothy grin, and slowly lumbered away. Twilight was almost too scared to ask, but it didn't matter. Dread knew what she wanted to know. "That was Sateen. She's the shepherd of dark souls and gatekeeper of Deadworlds zero through ten." "Deadworlds?" "We'll get to that. All you need to know now is that this is Deadworld zero. You might know it as Hell." "Hell? Why did you bring me here?" "You wanted to learn, didn't you? Well, that's what we're here for. Go ahead, Ms. Sparkle. Stick your head out the doors, but please, don't step outside the elevator." Twilight did as she was told, peering out of the elevator doors; the sights she beheld were horrific. The source of the heat she'd felt was immediately apparent, as, so far as she could see, the whole world was drenched in flames. And in the flames she could make out the silhouettes of creatures similar in shape to Sateen, but smaller. And what in the world was all that screaming? Was it the beasts or. . . something else? Whatever it was, their screams were certainly blood curdling. "Allow me to adjust your vision, Ms. Sparkle." The fires dimmed as Twilight's vision was tinted. And it was then that she saw the source of the screams. In the hands and mouts and under the feet of the monstrous creatures were humans and equines and all sorts of other species. Twilight couldn't help but stare in horror as they were crushed and ground, chewed to ribbon by sadistically sharpened teeth and claws, and, on occasion, thrown ferociously at walls, to become little more than a sickening smear. "Gaze upon it, Ms. Sparkle, and weep. For this is Hell, where those that lived their lives in a cloud of negativity and performed acts of great evil with no remorse come to dwell for the rest of eternity, among the fire and the flames." Twilight felt like she was going to be sick. "It's. . . it's almost too much. . . I don't care what any of these ponies or people did in life, how could it possibly warrant this. . . this torture!?" "Oh, how naive your kind are. And besides, you misunderstand, Ms. Sparkle. This is not where the evil come to be punished; it is where the evil come to continue their evil. The true inhabitants of Hell are not the tortured, but the torturers." "What are you saying?" "Spirits are not brought here to be punished by demons, Ms. Sparkle; they are brought here to become demons." ". . .Wow." "Did I just blow your mind?" "A little bit." "I was hoping I would." "So, I have a question. If the demons are the true inhabitants of Hell, then who are they torturing?" "Projections; magical copies of who they were in life. It was originally designed as a metaphor for self-destruction, to try and teach them to feel some kind of remorse. Now we do it because it keeps them calm." "What happens if they run out of these projections?" "They don't. Now get your head back in here, we have other things to see." "Like wha--it's dark! Oh buck, it's dark. Why am I so cold?" "Oh, sorry, let me fix that." Twilight's vision quickly returned to normal and the heat returned to her body. The spells Dread placed on her must have been incredibly powerful to have had that kind of effect. "That they were; but they had to be. Hell's a dangerous place for ponies like you, Ms. Sparkle." "I would assume so. Now what are those other places you were talking about?" Dread's only response was to point at the topmost button on the panel. "Do. . . do you want me to press it?" He nodded. "Well, okay then."
Eternal Paradise is OverratedTwilight pressed the topmost button, like Dread had told her. It glowed a soft white and exuded a warmth of equal softness. Not at all like the oppressive heat of Hell. It was more like the warmth from a thick blanket on a cold day. Just warm enough to make you lethargic but not enough to make you sweat. "Wow. You're really caught up in this whole warmth thing. Weird considering you just came from a nightmare world made of fire." "Yeah, well, it's just. . . well, I don't know. When I pressed the button I felt. . . safe. I know it doesn't make much sense, but-" "It makes perfect sense, Miss Sparkle. You'll see why in just a few second. Literally about three seconds. . . . I'd stand back from those doors if I were you." But Twilight didn't stand back. And so the doors flew open, letting in a gust of wind so strong, that it sent Twilight flying back into the wall of the elevator. She laid there, essentially plastered to the cushioned metal wall, waiting for the wind to stop. But it didn't stop. Or at least, it didn't stop for her, as Dread appeared to be largely unaffected by this strange wind. In fact, he stepped forward, as if the wind was non-existent, and began to recite some kind of incantation. A large part of it was in a language Twilight couldn't understand, but the last bit, at least, was in Equish: "As a grand-high reaper, wayfinder of lost souls and shepherd to the damned, I command of thee, O' Heavenly Winds, cease thine blowing!" The winds blew on. What Dread had planned to accomplish with that, Twilight was unsure. ". . . Yo Peter! Shut it down!" The wind stopped and Twilight fell to the floor. Confused, she rose, rubbing her sore flank. Dread seemed frustrated and tired, but as with most things that had occurred since She killed herself, she wasn't sure why. "I'm frustrated because the level of professionalism in my workplace isn't exactly what I'd like it to be. Honestly, it's like nobody's even trying to be ominous or foreboding anymore. But I digress." "Well. . . alright then. What exactly was that wind?" "The Heavenly winds; a fail-safe designed to keep the impure out of Deadworld 50, or as you know it, Heaven." "Heaven? We're in Heaven?" "Sure are." Dread stepped out of the elevator, into the great expanse of Heaven. He took a few steps before turning to face Twilight." "Are you coming?" "I can leave the elevator?" "Why wouldn't you be able to?" "Well, you wouldn't let me get out in Hell." "Did you really want to though? Did you really want to get out and explore every nook and crevice in Hell, Ms. Sparkle?" "No." "Well, there you go. Now hurry up and get out here." Twilight hurried herself out of the elevator, the doors closing and disappearing behind her. Twilight found the elevators sudden dissipation to be a bit disconcerting, but hey, she was in Heaven. What could possibly happen to her here? Twilight turned her focus away from the topic of the elevator and gazed across the endless expanse of white and blue that was Heaven. Here, standing on the seemingly infinite sea of clouds, everything just seemed so at peace. Twilight could hear the squawks and caws and chirps of various birds circling overhead. She saw phoenixes and sparrows, crows and doves, hawks, eagles, falcons, and. . . was that a pterodactyl? Yes, in fact it was. It seemed a little out of place, but who was Twilight to question the machinations of Heaven? "Hey, Dread?" "Projections, Twilight. Nothing more." "But why birds?" "You'll understand when I introduce you to Peter." "And who exactly is- where did this city come from?" Twilight had looked down from the birds to find that she and Dread had arrived at a city of dazzling white, guarded by and enclosed within a gate of pure gold. The gate was taller than any building Twilight had ever seen, so tall in fact, that she couldn't even see the top of it. It seemed nigh on unscalable. But the gates immense size was not what had Twilight so surprised; it was the fact that they had appeared out of nowhere! Twilight could tolerate the elevator disappearing, but an entire city popping into existence? That just didn't make any sense. "Try not to think about it too hard Ms. Sparkle. Some things aren't meant to be understood." "I guess I can try not to think about it too hard. But I'm still going to think about it. Anyway, where is this Peter guy you wanted me to meet?" "Blink, Twilight." "What's that supposed to mean?" Twilight's question was answered quickly, as when she blinked, a winged human had manifested in front of the golden gates. "Oh come on, now you're just trying to mess with me." The winged human chuckled. He was rather tall, and seemed to be of an advanced age, as all his hair, facial or otherwise, was a pearly white. "Forgive me, Ms. Sparkle. I don't get many visitors here in Heaven, so when I do, I take it as an opportunity to have a little fun. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Peter, the Shepherd of saintly souls and gatekeeper of Deadworlds fifty through forty." "So you're a reaper, right?" "Of course." "And reapers take on the form of the most intelligent creature in their assigned world, right?" "That is true." "So are winged humans common in your world? I've only ever met the types that walk on the ground, and I just think it'd be interesting if more species of human existed." "Well, the answer's a bit complicated. We don't really have time for an in-depth explanation, as you have a tour to take. Perhaps Dread could tell you the story." Peter snapped his fingers, and with a clunk and thud, the gates of Heaven unlocked. They opened silently, swinging inward. "Please enjoy you're time here in Heaven. Oh, and please, don't drink the water." "Oh, um, okay. I'll be sure to remember that." Peter flew off into the distance, his form blending into the shapes of the various birds off in the distance. Twilight wondered just what kind of world it was that could be filled with creatures such as that. "That would be no world, Ms. Sparkle." "Pardon me?" "The inhabitants of Peter's assigned world aren't always the most rational creatures. They go to war for no reason, fight over the most arbitrary and insignificant of topics, and very rarely are capable of self-control. Peter was being over-worked by their constant murder of one another, so one day he descended upon them in the form you see now, though he was much younger, and at the time, he went by the name Michael. His subjects were in awe of him and he used this awe to devise a system that would help regulate them and keep them in line. This system was religion. Of course, it's not a perfect system and oftentimes, they'll fight over who's right about how to interpret this religion. But there's only so much that Peter can do." "So. . . he took that form to capture the attention of his people?" "That and he's got a crazy bird fetish." "Oh." Twilight and Dread stepped through the gates. They shut just as silently as they had opened and then disappeared altogether. Twilight wasn't very concerned with it this time though, as she was too busy being frozen in awe at all that she beheld. It was not the awe she had felt in Hell, which had been born of horror and disgust. This awe was born of sheer sensory overload. There were palaces and buildings crafted from precious metals and built in abstract shapes and proportions that by all rights should have caused them to collapse. The streets were literally paved with gold and the windows were made of purest crystal. Rivers flowed all throughout the city and the waters seemed to glow with purity. "They are glowing, Ms. Sparkle, but I wouldn't exactly say that it's with purity." "What do you mean?" "I mean that, one, that isn't water, and two, it's radioactive. That's why it's glowing." "Well, what is it then, if not water." "We don't really know. It's just something we Reapers kind of. . . excrete. We'd dump it in Hell, but we're afraid that it would give the demons superpowers. And as cool as that sounds, it's something we'd rather not deal with." "Well, isn't there a better alternative to keeping it in Heaven? Aren't you concerned about all the creatures that live here?" "I would be, but as you'll soon see, Ms. Sparkle, there's no one in Heaven to be concerned about. Well, actually, that's not totally true. Follow me." Twilight followed, wondering what Dread wanted to show her. Observing her surroundings, she began to notice just how empty the city was. Not a soul to be seen; just birds. Or rather, the projections of birds. But surely, with all the demons residing in Hell, there had to be an equal amount of inhabitants in Heaven. So where was everyone? Twilight would have given more thought to the topic but her concentration was broken by the not-so-distant barking of a dog. . . a dog? "Yes, Ms. Sparkle, a dog. Just follow me around this corner here." Dread turned left, around an asymmetrical skyscraper. Once more, Twilight followed. Rounding the corner, she stopped beside Dread who had halted at the very beginning of the street. The dog's barking sounded closer now. In fact, Twilight could see the dog, just a bit farther down the road. It was a big yellow thing, a Black Mouth Cur from the looks of it. It was carrying a stick in its mouth and taking it to a rather short human in a thick white tunic and sandals. His hair was rather long and messy and he had a magnificent beard. He seemed oddly approachable, and ,overall, looked like a friendly man. "Who are they?" "That dog over there is Old Yeller. A more loyal dog you'll never find. Brought to an untimely end by some rather unfortunate circumstances involving rabies. I pity the boy that had to shoot him; he loved that dog more than anything." "That does sound pretty sad." "Everything has to go sometime, Ms. Sparkle. Anyway, that human over there, that's Jesus. Now as far as humans go, he's as good as they get. Real nice guy. Not much fun at parties though." "So why are they the only ones here? Is there anyone else you're just hiding from me? Someone that's going to pop out and try to entertain themselves by scaring and frustrating me?" "No, Ms. Sparkle. Jesus and Yeller are the only ones here. And that's because, in all of existence, within the countless eons the multiverse has existed, to have hearts pure enough to reside here. The afterlife is a game of purity, Ms. Sparkle. How pure you are determines where you end up." "I. . . I don't really think I understand." "Then please, allow me to explain."
Death and it's Practical Applications in LifeWays to die. There are so very, very many ways to die. Certainly more than one thousand. Some of the ways to die are dumb; some of them were tragic; in a dark, sadistic sort of way, many of them could be considered funny. Some deaths are long and painful while others are quick and painless. Others cause so much pain in an instant, that while the sufferer may feel as though time drags on for hours, they are dead in under a minute. Others still are quite painless, but truly do drag on and on, giving the soon-to-be-deceased ample time to contemplate their fate. . . or seek medical attention; whichever they prefer. But Princess Twilight Sparkle did not care whether or not her death was painful. She did not care if it was painless. She did not care whether it seemed dumb, or tragic, or even funny in a grim kind of way. Twilight Sparkle just wanted to be dead. Now this wasn't to say that Twilight was unhappy with life. Actually, she couldn't be happier. She was surrounded by great friends and the Cutie Mark Crusaders were turning out to be enthusiastic students. For Celestia's sake, she was an Alicorn princess! Well, a princess-in-training at least. But still, she was an alicorn. And as an alicorn, Twilight wasn't entirely sure she could die anymore. But she still had to try. An observer might ask themselves why, if she's so happy, would Twilight want to kill herself so badly? To fully understand, one only has to look to this years Apple Bucking season. The trees had been much stiffer this year than in previous years, and the bucking had been much more difficult because of it. A little too difficult. One tree in particular had refused to give up it's fruits and had been giving Big Macintosh something of a problem. For days, he'd gone back to it, trying to force at least one apple to fall. He'd refused to let anypony else touch it. It became something of a personal issue with him. It could be said that he won out in the end, but that's only because the tree trunk snapped clean in half. It could also be said that he lost, because when the tree fell over, it landed on him, breaking his hind legs, three ribs and fracturing his skull. The bleeding had been profuse and he'd punctured a lung. Needless to say, he was in pretty bad shape; honestly, it hadn't looked like he would recover. The Apples had been worried sick for weeks. Literally. Granny Smith worried herself into a heart attack, which put her in the hospital as well. Applejack and Applebloom had been devastated, afraid that they would lose their brother and grandmother, all in the same month. Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and the others had spent most of that month rotating between harvesting apples and providing the Apples with emotional support. On one of her visits to the hospital, Twilight had been presented with a hard-to-answer question by a rather distressed Applebloom: "Where do ponies go when they die?" Twilight had been unsure of how to answer the question. She didn't know how to answer the question. She didn't know the answer. Big Mac and Granny Smith both managed to pull through without too many complications (though there's a good chance Big Mac will never have children) but for days after, Applebloom's question haunted Twilight. And days turned to weeks turned to months, until the burning shame of her ignorance on the topic drove her to relative insanity. And so began a bout of research which brought some peace to Twilight's mind; that peace being that she wasn't the only pony unaware of what occurred after death. In fact, nopony, or zebra, or griffon had ever figured it out, a discovery which only made her more upset. How could such an important question have gone unanswered for so long? Twilight quickly discovered why the question had gone unanswered after her first attempt at suicide: fear. Fear held her back. Fear of what her friends and family would do upon discovering her; fear of how it would feel; fear of what might lay on the other side of the figurative curtain that was life. But fear was just the body's natural reaction to danger, little more than a primitive instinct. Instincts could be suppressed, but one key issue still remained. Just how would Twilight return to her body after killing herself? Was it even possible? Yet another question, seemingly without an answer, for Twilight to spend her time on. "Let's see. . . out-of-body experience spell? No, no, that won't work. I mean, it's hardly death. Nerve pinching spell? No. . . that would do some serious damage to my brain. I need my brain, for science and. . . stuff." "Twilight?" Spike said, concerned. "Blood-flow stanching? Well mayb- no, that would damage my brain too." "Hey, Twilight!" "Wha-huh? Oh. Spike. It's you. Do you need anything? I'm kinda busy here." "Yeah, I know. You've been busy for the past week. So busy that you haven't slept. For the past week." "Actually, I came across an incredibly useful spell in my search for a death-spell. It allows me to compact the REM cycle almost infinitesimally. I've done it at least, four. . . maybe five times." "Meaning?" "I can get a full nights rest just by blinking." ". . .Right. That's great and all, but-" "Spike, could you hurry it up? I'd really like to get back to my research." "But that's all you've been doing: research. Normally I'd just chalk it up to you being you, and I totally respect your desire to answer unanswerable questions, but this whole obsession with death you've developed seems really unhealthy." "Is it unhealthy to thirst for knowledge, Spike? Is it unhealthy to try and answer one of life's greatest question? "It is when you're willing to kill yourself to do it! What if you can't find a way to bring yourself back, huh, Twilight? What good will the answer be then? And what will our friends do when they find out you're dead?" "They wouldn't do anything, because I wouldn't be dead." "Twilight, I don't care what you teach it about friendship, or how you teach it to act, that thing in the basement isn't you! It doesn't have your memories or your life experiences, or- or- For Celestia's sake, it called me Spork!" "Believe me, Spike, if the clone has to take my place, nopony will be able to tell the difference. Unlike Pinkie's clones, which were obsessed with having fun and nothing but, Mirror Twilight can learn and is actually quite intelligent." "It. Called. Me. Spork. And I don't care how smart it is Twilight, or who it convinces, I'll know it's not you." "But you won't tell anypony, will you?" ". . . . . .No, I won't. But I'll be really upset about it. And, you know, you'll be dead, so. . . I guess I'll be sad about that." ". . .Spike. I know this is to be tough for you. But I have to know. I can't just let knowledge this important be left in the dark. So i'm going to need you to be strong. For me. Can you do that?" ". . .Yeah. I guess I can." "And it's okay if you want to leave for a bit Spike. Watching me do nothing but research how to kill myself probably doesn't have much in the way of entertainment value." "I've stuck with you this long. And besides, I don't have anything I want to go see. Or do. Watching you try to kill yourself is probably the most interesting thing going on in Ponyville right now. You know, in a morbid, depressing kinda way." "Oh. Well then." "There's one thing I don't get though, Twilight. Why can't Pinkie and Rarity and all the others know about this? Why do we even need Mirror Twilight?" "Simple, Spike. If any of them knew what I was doing, they'd try to stop me. And in the event that they didn't stop me, they would probably all spiral into some kind of crazy depression. And depressed Elements of Harmony make for a very unsafe Equestria. Which leads us to Mirror Twilight, who will effectively replace me should this experiment go awry. If they knew about her, they wouldn't treat her like they treat me. They wouldn't treat her like a friend. Which, again, Elements of Harmony, and such. Do you get it?" "I guess. I still don't like it, but I guess I get it." "Great. Now would you be a dear and get me Starswirl the Bearded's spellbook?" "Why? You've already looked through it about ten times. I'm pretty sure you'd have found a death-spell by now." "You never know what you'll find the eleventh time through. True, there are no death-spells in this book, but it's just one out of who knows how many Starswirl wrote. I mean, he has an entire wing in Canterlot Castle named after him! This book can't possibly contain all of the spells he ever created. But it might contain some allusion to a spell in a book I haven't even seen yet. So I just have to look carefully." Twilight opened the book, taking extra care to scan every inch of every page for some clue that might help her in her search. She didn't have to look very far, as she noticed something she'd somehow managed to overlook the previous ten times she'd read the book. On the cover page was the title, as usual: A Compendium of Spells, Practical and Conventional or Otherwise, by Starswirl the Bearded. But under the title, in almost illegible writing was a subtext, which read, 'as approved by the Equestrian Royal Family and Committee of Ethics.' "I knew it!" Twilight shouted gleefully. "What is it, Twilight?" "This book is abridged! The spells in it were run through a committee, which means some of them had to have been left out. For safety reasons, of course. The death spell might have been one of them." "Assuming it existed in the first place." "Hush, you. Now grab a quill and some parchment. I need you to take a letter." Twilight spent the next half hour giving Spike things to write, explaining the whole situation to Princess Celestia: Her burning desire for knowledge, her need to know what occurred after death. She explained the weeks and weeks of research she'd put into the topic and how every possible lead had wound up either a dead end or some philosophical claptrap. She talked of Mirror Twilight's conception and how she knew that Starswirl must have developed some kind of spell pertaining to death, and asked if there was such a spell, that she be allowed to have it for the purpose of answering the question which had maddened her. When she was done delegating and Spike was done writing, Spike set fire to the scroll; they both watched as the cloud of smoke drifted off towards Canterlot Castle. It was several days before they received a reply. Twilight opened the letter with excited anxiety. What would her former teacher think of all this? Would she be supportive, disapproving. . . would she even care? "What does it say Twilight?" "I don't know, Spike, I just opened it. Geez. . . have a little patience, why don't you." "Well excuuuuuse me , Princess." "You're excused. Now, let's see what this letter says. Ahem. . ." Dear Twilight Sparkle, The path you have chosen to walk down is a very dangerous one. The question you ask has baffled the greatest minds of all pony races for centuries, and I believe there is a reason for that. I do not believe we are meant to know what occurs after death. And even if we were to be given such knowledge, it would be a curse, a burden, on all who bore it. Such information would bring about madness, of this I am sure. But I digress. As your former teacher, I cannot condone such an experiment, I am opposed to violent magic in general, but a spell designed specifically to kill the user is beyond the scope of my disgust, and given the choice, I would forbid you from even thinking of using such a spell. But it is not my choice; I am not your teacher anymore. As your friend however I must beg of you: do not go through with this. I have watched you grow from a fill into a strong, intelligent mare, and far more. No knowledge is worth risking your life for and I myself don't know how I would go on without you. But if you will not cease this insanity on my behalf, please, do it for your friends. What would they do without you? What would Equestria do without you? I believe that I have shown just how much I disapprove of your intentions, Twilight. But again, I cannot control your actions. Shortly after this letter, a scroll should arrive containing the instruction necessary to perform Starswirl the Bearded's temporary death spell. Do with it as you see fit, but please: be careful. Your former teacher and concerned friend, Princess Celestia. The sound of Spike belching let Twilight know that the death spell had arrived. She grabbed it from the air as soon as it materialized. "Told you so, Spike." "Yeah, whatever. Have fun killing yourself; I'm gonna go take a nap." Twilight watched Spike climb the stairs, get in his basket, and pull the covers over his head. She knew he didn't mean it.; he was just worried and the worry was expressing itself through snarkiness. But Spike's worries could not keep Twilight from her self-appointed task. She would discover the secrets of death, whatever the cost. Twilight studied the scroll containing Starswirl's spell for roughly ten minutes. The process seemed simple enough. The caster simply had to place a small pocket of magic with a weak detonation spell placed upon it in either the cranium or the thoracic cavity; the caster then magically deactivates every one of their organ systems, ending with the brain. In theory, after the caster has shut down their body, the detonation of the magic pocket releases a burst of energy which should jumpstart the various systems into proper function. According to notes left by Starswirl himself, the tests he'd conducted had yielded mixed results. Exactly half of the ponies he'd experimented on had failed to revive successfully, either because the burst of energy had caused their organs to explode or failed to go off altogether. Basically the spell was risky and unreliable. In one of the notes, Starswirl had even stated that he'd ceased testing because the loss of life was not worth any answers his experiments might provide, which, so far as he could see, were non-existent. Oh how wrong he was. Twilight wasn't concerned with the fifty-fifty chances of coming out of this alive. If there was even a chance she might survive this ordeal, she was satisfied. If not. . . well that's what Mirror Twilight was for. Twilight focused her magic into a pocket just above her heart. Setting it to detonate after five minutes, she shut down all her bodily systems but her brain. Satisfied with the execution of her. . . execution, she threw the literal kill switch on her brain. And then darkness.
