Nightmare Idiot

Ever since Pinkie Pie had first moved to Ponyville, the residents had made a hobby out of trying to figure out her array of seemingly impossible abilities. Some individuals claimed that she was a unicorn with a disguise spell, while others speculated that the pink made made use of a sophisticated network of tunnels underneath the entirety of Equestria. The most outlandish theory to date was that Pinkie wasn't a pony at all, but instead came from outer space to study the locals, using sophisticated technology to perform her inexplicable feats. Pinkie refused to acknowledge the matter at all, instead cheerfully changing the subject again and again until the pseudo-researcher gave up.

No explanation for her movement, however, ever managed to come up with a convincing theory for her knack for accurately predicting the future with her so-called "Pinkie Sense." At least one pony had gone insane (temporarily, to the relief of all involved) attempting to decipher "the pink monster," as he called her during his break from reality. No matter how it worked, the important thing was its unfailing accuracy. Never had a Pinkie Prediction been incorrect, and so when the pink pony in question ran to Twilight Sparkle yelling about how something would ruin the upcoming party, the bookworm's first reaction was to teleport to the mayor and convince her to put the Ponyville Guard on watch. This done, Twilight returned to the library, intending to pull a quick study session of defensive spells. Pinkie, of all ponies, put those plans to a halt, firmly insisting that the party go on as planned, despite her lavender friend's objections. Twilight, as with always in dealing with Pinkie Pie, eventually decided to just go with it. This, as it later turned out, was a mistake.

"The Everfree," mused Nightmare Atlas as he trotted out of the forest in question, "is both inherently wrong and incredibly resistant to any attempts to alter it. Of course, if it weren't so stubborn, it wouldn't breed creatures like Hydras to defend itself." The Nightmare's corporeal body, hidden under the disguise, was smaller and moderately less powerful, a direct result of spreading his essence among such a number of foul beasts. He still possessed incredible power, to be sure, but it would be most unwise to attract the attention of the Royal Sisters in his current state. The Moon was not a fun place to be for a thousand years, and the Nightmare had no desire to relive the experience.

Approaching Ponyville's borders, it struck Atlas for a moment that perhaps the ponies living there didn't deserve to have their lives interrupted by a massive invasion of foul creatures. The destruction will certainly be extensive, and while it is my right to rule, surely I can find another way to secure the throne... no! I have already put forth too much time and effort to back down now! Those accursed sisters undoubtedly know of my return and will seek me out and imprison me, given enough time. This is the only way; it must be done. Burying his conscience, Atlas continued on his way with a particular force in his stride, a side effect of his internal conflict. Soon the cottages and farms gave way to shops and apartments, ponies of all three varieties milling about cheerfully. The Nightmare felt another sharp pang of regret over the impending violence, again crushing it under his willpower. It lingered in the back of his mind, whispering guilt into his ears and gently pulling at the strings of his fragile morality. Each step took more effort than the last, and it was only through a supreme effort that Atlas kept up his facade.

THUD!

"That wall felt quite familiar," muttered Atlas. As he picked himself off the ground, he noticed a very familiar red face with an equally familiar bemused expression.

"Howdy again, pardner," said the one and only Big Mac.

Princess Luna was a mess of conflicting emotions. On the one hoof, her fears of the Nightmare's eventual return had proven to be judtified, while on the other an opportunity presented itself for some righteous revenge against the monster that had wrecked her life for ten centuries. On the third hoof (being a quadruped has its advantages), Tia was unlikely to leave much behind for Luna to take a swing at with her beloved war hammer. An avid gamer, Luna had recently taken to calling it the "Ban Hammer," in place of its old title, a word too old for even the Princesses to guess at its meaning. The instrument of percussion maintainance and occasional bloody death-dealing dated back to before the age of Discord, to a time when nature ran wild and ponies were very different. Legends spoke of lost civilizations in this time before time, of creatures so technologically advanced they could manipulate life at the genetic level with ease. Conspiracy theories abounded, claiming that ponies were the products of experiments. Luna found it uncomfortably possible after thinking carefully about Discord's nature. He was erratic; cruel one moment and tender the next, one never knew exactly what was going through his mind. The biggest piece of "evidence" (for of course this was all speculation) was the Chaos Lord's appearance. Though known to change it at will, Discord seemed to feel most comfortable in a form composed of a bizzare mishmash of animals, looking for all the world like a hastily-constructed toy. Combined with his insanity, Luna found it easy to believe that he could have been a rushed prototype of sorts whose flaws resulted in the complete reconstruction of a world: Equestria. The one time the Princess of the Night attempted to ask Discord about it, he became uncharacteristically serious and stated, "Even if I knew, which I don't, what difference would it make? You're free to question your origins, which just proves that they don't really matter," before climbing into a winged teapot and soaring away.

Luna hadn't slept for three days after that.