Born to Lightby Mailbox_of_d00mChaptersChapter 3: What They Really WereChapter 4: A Portrait of the Artist...Chapter 5: Equestrian NightmareChapter 6: It Seemed so...RealChapter 8: Rise of the Dark PresenceChapter 9: ...From a Different Point of ViewChapter 10: Contact!Chapter 11: SelectionChapter 1: Is This a Prank?Chapter 2: Special DeliveryChapter 7: Thought ProcessChapter 3: What They Really Were Night was approaching. The day reached its grand finale, but there was no call for an encore. Twilight Sparkle had nearly finished examining the manuscript pages. Turns out, they were just the prototype for a novel called Departure. This story is really good, Twilight thought. It's a shame that someone lost it. Hopefully, the author wouldn't come searching for the pages anytime soon – no doubt he would never expect to find them in a small town, miles away. Concluding her expedition through the chilling text, Twilight was at a loss for words. She was surprised that she had overcome her initial horror at the murder plot so quickly – she had never read something so...controversial...before – but once she started, she just couldn't stop. Rainbow Dash would probably like this. But what was it about this story that made it so interesting? Was it the fluent writing, the thoughtful diction? Was it the rebellious idea of a story surrounding horror and murder? Either way, it was just a story – it didn't seem to be as important as Postal Code made it out to be. It might be a good idea to make a trip to Canterlot to return these pages. After all, the author could come looking for them at any time, and he probably wouldn't be too happy to learn that his manuscript had been exchanged all the way to Ponyville. Twilight called out to Spike. "Spike! Tomorrow, I'm going to head over to Canterlot. If you would, please adjust my monthly schedule likewise." "What's the deal this time," inquired an exhausted baby dragon walking into the Ponyville Library's main hall. "You need to get another time-altering spell or something?" "Very funny," remarked Twilight, somewhat agitated by Spike's comment on a very embarrassing situation. "Actually, I need to return these manuscript pages to their rightful owner." "That's nice, I guess. Hey, could you pick me up some ice cream while you're out?" Twilight began to climb the stairs toward her bedroom. Without even turning around, she quickly spat out, "Maybe." *** She couldn't sleep. With all the excitement she built up reading the manuscript to Departure, Twilight just couldn't keep her eyes shut. Using "Maybe reading it again will help me fall asleep" as an excuse to begin reading the manuscript again, she snatched up the pages as if they were recently misplaced diamonds. The man turned to face me. His face was covered in shadows. It was hard to make him out in the darkness of the forest that surrounded us, but the axe he lifted was plain to see. It glistened with the blood of his victim. He grinned madly. The shadows were alive, distorting his features. It was a scene from a nightmare, but I was awake. Chapter 4: A Portrait of the Artist... Though he seemed to know her, Twilight Sparkle was completely convinced that she had never seen the stallion before. His entire fur coat gave off a sleek teal color; his mane a soft green. His large, attentive eyes contained two magenta irises, and it was clear by their shrinking that he was uneasy about something. The hair atop his head, obviously gel-coated and unsuccessfully styled, drooped slightly above his right eye. His flank bore a very peculiar symbol: a dark grey rectangle behind two downward chevrons – one teal, one green. Just what exactly did that represent? Twilight noticed the stallion's inability to keep eye contact with her. It seemed that whenever he tried to look at her straight in the eyes, his cheeks turned a barely noticeable red – at least, barely noticeable to anyone other than her. The stallion also carried a rugged purple backpack; multiple stacks of papers stuck out like flowers sprouting from the ground. Each paper was type-written, and some even showed off tears or crinkles. With nervous eyes, a blushing face, and suspicious papers sprouting from his backpack, the stallion looked to be the typical teenage nerd with an irrational crush. Twilight thought she knew where this was going. Chapter 5: Equestrian Nightmare Twilight Sparkle awoke upon a mattress of soft grass. Somehow, her bedroom had been replaced by a forest. It was not the Everfree Forest, however, for the trees were too massive and the surrounding area too dark. Twilight could barely even see herself through the darkness. There was a faint light up ahead. Assuming the light to mean other life, Twilight hastily sped towards the source. Maybe then could she figure out where she had ended up. The forest was quite a frightening place; Twilight half-expected some sort of monster to jump out from behind the trees, or a horde of zombies to rise from the ground. Or maybe even something similar to a scene from Departure. Twilight laughed at the idea, thinking she had developed an unhealthy obsession with the manuscript. But alas, she made assumptions too quickly, as Twilight tripped over something on the ground. Using her horn as a temporary light source, Twilight was horrified to learn of the thing she had tripped over. It was Rainbow Dash. More specifically, it was the body of Rainbow Dash. She lay limp on the ground before Twilight. There was no pulse, no breathing. She was dead. Holding back sorrow and anger, Twilight examined the body and hoped for an explanation. She found it. There was an enormous gash spanning Rainbow Dash's back. It appeared to have been cleaved open by an axe of some sort. One of her wings was missing, hacked clean off. Part of her right ear appeared to have been gnawed off. Just then, Twilight took notice of the blood decorating the ground and a nearby tree. Though it clearly was not the time for black bile, Twilight jokingly expected to find Fluttershy's decapitated head tied to the tree. Luckily, no such thing was present, only Dashie's missing wing hanging from a tree branch. Concluding her analysis of the crime scene, Twilight deduced that Rainbow Dash had most likely been murdered by a serial killer or something similar who may still be abiding in the forest. She then realized that she was in grave danger. Trot turned to gallop and gallop turned to a full-on sprint as Twilight bolted towards the light. Forget going home; if anypony was really there, she'd need to warn whoever she may find of the dangerous killer on the loose, before it was too late. *** There was nothing. The light emanated from a single lamp post, of which Twilight didn't even want to learn of the power source. Suddenly, a voice called out to her. Stay in the light. You are safe in the light. Before Twilight could ask who was speaking, the light flickered and diminished. She heard it again. You are safe in the light. The darkness cannot harm you there. Twilight noticed a shadowy figure in the distance. It appeared to be another pony. The mare turned to face Twilight. Her face was covered in shadows. It was hard to make her out in the darkness of the forest that surrounded them, but the axe she lifted was plain to see. It glistened with the blood of her victim. She grinned madly. The darkness was alive, distorting her features. It was a scene from a nightmare, but Twilight was awake. The mare spoke: "Hi, I'm Pinkie Pie!" Her voice was as distorted as her face; the pitch shifted continually. "I threw this party just for you!" "P-P-Pinkie?? What's going on?" Twilight muttered, terrified to death. "W-what happened to you?" "Are you excited? 'Cause I'm so excited I've never been so excited!" "Pinkie Pie, snap out of it!!" The shadow-coated Pinkie Pie ran over to Twilight and swung the axe. You must stay in the light. Your life depends on it. Then, the axe was upon her. Chapter 6: It Seemed so...Real She awoke abruptly the next morning. Her eyes opened almost instantly; it took a few seconds for the world to come into focus. She was breathing quite heavily, almost as if she was in a state of hyperventilation. Her heart conducted a symphony in 8/16 time. As soon as Twilight Sparkle calmed, she realized that she had returned to her bedroom. Thank Celestia it had all been a dream. Twilight rubbed her hoof against the side of her head – had the nightmare come alive, that would have been where the axe had struck. Twilight could still feel ghost pains in the area; she could almost sense the axe still stuck in her temple. It just seemed so...real. Could it have been something she ate? Pinkie Pie's cupcakes did taste a tad strange the other day. Then again, she rarely makes mistakes while baking. Gleaming rays of light penetrated the glass window. For any other pony, the light would signify the beginning of a beautiful, eventful day. For Twilight, however, it only signaled that she had overslept...and was behind schedule. She sped through her morning routine, said goodbye to Spike, almost forgot to grab the manuscript papers, and sprinted to the train. Just in time, too. She planned to arrive at the train station 45 minutes before departure; luckily, she had at least managed to arrive with 26 minutes to spare. She still had some time before the train left, and it takes approximately one hour to reach Canterlot by train, so she decided to read over the manuscript to Departure one more time. At the last instant, I changed direction and threw myself down; the axe splintered the trunk of a tree. I stumbled into the pool of bright light. My lungs burned; I was too exhausted to move. I tensed as I waited for the killing blow, but it never came. I raised my head. Nothing moved in the darkness beyond. For the moment, bathed in the cold light, I was safe. Chapter 8: Rise of the Dark Presence Approximately one hour and 45 minutes after the train had left Ponyville, Twilight Sparkle, having not moved from her seat on the train, concluded her third reading of Departure. As she slowly returned to reality, Twilight realized that she was supposed to have exited the train 45 minutes ago! Lucky for her, the train did not depart again until 1:25 PM – about one hour and 40 minutes from the current time – or else she may not have arrived at the stylistic, regal architecture of Canterlot. Twilight's mission was simple: locate Postal Code, explain to him what the manuscript pages were, and search for the author with or without Postal Code's help. Recalling her semi-vague memories of the Canterlot Academy, she assumed that he would most likely be in the science lab, so she headed there immediately. On the way to the science lab, three ponies vaguely familiar to Twilight approached her. One of them exclaimed: "Hey, Twilight! Haven't seen you in a long time!" Twilight stayed only long enough to give an acknowledgement of the pony's existence. "Sorry, I don't have the time to talk right now," she said. Twilight began to gallop off when she heard another pony whisper, "Geez, she hasn't changed a bit!" Thinking it best to not pay attention, Twilight continued on to the science lab. This certainly was not the time to get reacquainted with everypony in the academy. Besides, she had begun to worry about Spike – Celestia only knows what he could have gotten into by now. *** Twilight found Postal Code exactly where she had expected – inside the science lab, in front of the computer. He was typing away, punching each key with a quill held firmly in his mouth. A translucent bar at the top of the monitor's screen read "Microsoft Visual Studio 2010." Twilight could not understand the jumbled characters on the screen, but the computer clearly could, as certain clusters of letters changed color following Postal Code's input. He heard hooves colliding with the marble floor and exclaimed, "Professor, I think I've figured it out! The .cpp file is what tells the program what to do!" Twilight, having been mistaken for Postal Code's teacher, replied, "Um...I'm not your teacher..." Postal Code though he recognized the voice, turned around, and nearly suffered from a heart attack. He hadn't anticipated Twilight's arrival...or her approaching him directly. He tried to mask his mixed feelings of shock and excitement, stiffening his posture, removing the hoof he had thrust into his chest. Though he tried not to stutter, he asked, "H-h-h-how d-did you know I would, um, b-be here?" "Is that a rhetorical question?" she returned. "Um...no, I was just...a little surprised, is all." "Well, if memory serves me correctly, I figured you would be in the science lab, like usual." "Oh, uh, yeah. So, um, what exactly did you come here for?" "I looked through these papers and thought I'd inform you of what they really were. Turns out, they're just the rough draft of a novel!" "But, why would you come all the way here just to tell me that?" "I couldn't bear to think that the author lost these, so I traveled here to return them to him." Postal Code's eyes widened, as if he had just realized he had made a horrible mistake. "Um...about the author..." "What? Did you see him?" "Well, he actually came by the other day looking for the pages, I...kinda sent him to Ponyville to find you..." Twilight was truly shocked – she honestly hadn't expected that to happen. Tensely, she inquired, "Did he leave already?" "Well, he did say something about catching the next train," Postal Code replied. "How long ago was this?" "A few hours ago, so he may have caught the train already." "Then I'll head back immediately. What did he look like?" "I...can't remember. I'd know if I saw him, but..." "Then you're going to have to come with me. We have no time to lose!" Twilight Sparkle dashed out of the room, hoping Postal Code would keep up. He logged out of the computer, packed his backpack, and darted out of the room while trying not to let his excitement at the thought of spending time with Twilight get the better of him. *** They had been lucky enough to catch a train to Ponyville almost immediately following their arrival at the station. Another hour and Twilight would resume her search for the author. To pass the time, Twilight once again began to read Departure. I turned the corner, afraid of what the flashlight's beam might reveal. Suddenly, a roughly painted symbol of a torch glowed in the light. Behind it, hidden by a rock, sat a battered metal trunk. It was there for a reason, packed with supplies: batteries, flares, ammo. Things you need to make it through the darkness of the night. Something left behind by someone who knew what I knew, and more. Postal Code had envisioned talking with Twilight the whole time, to get to know her better. That had not happened so far, so he tried to change things. "Um...Twilight?" Though she struggled to do so, Twilight reluctantly tore her eyes from the manuscript. She looked up at him, and he spoke again: "Is it good?" She stared at him blankly for a very brief moment before he amended his question. "The story, I mean." "Oh, yes, it is very entertaining. Didn't you ever read it?" "Well, no, but–" "Well, do you want to?" "Um, I'm not really–" "Oh, come on, Postal Code, reading won't kill you!" She levitated a page to Postal Code's seat. He lifted the page in front of his eyes and read it. The night had been one desperate situation after another. I was exhausted and my body felt as though it had been chewed up and spat out. The flashlight was heavy in my hand, and each pull of the trigger sent a painful shock up my arm. But I was finally out of the woods and things were looking up. That's then I heard the chainsaw. Suddenly, the sunlight in the train car abated almost instantly. Darkness swallowed the sun and clouds, leaving nothing but the appearance of night. Though the clock read only 3:37 PM, the sky looked as though it was hours later. Something was clearly wrong. Ponies in the other train cars began to scream. They did not know what was going on, but it seems to be the natural instinct of living creatures to scream when lights disappear. Postal Code looked up and yelled, "What the heck is going on?!?" Twilight remarked, "How should I know? I have no idea what could have cut the day short!" Nightmare Moon could have caused it, but she had already been subdued, Twilight thought. At the same speed of the train, a huge cluster of shadows traveled nearby. It changed course and collided with the train with unbelievable force, like an armor-piercing round making contact with a human's flesh. Any remaining visible light turned to blackness as both Twilight Sparkle and Postal Code fell unconscious. Chapter 9: ...From a Different Point of View Once I regained consciousness, a nearly unbearable pain engulfed my body, strongest in my back and right foreleg. My mind was hazy; I had trouble remembering what exactly had happened. The train crash seemed to be all that I could remember. I opened my eyes and took a good look at my surroundings. To my dismay, I learned of my location: a small clearing in the middle of a forest. Probably the forest I could see below the hill of which the train had been traveling on. Darkness seemed to ooze from the gaps in between the trees; the clearing was the only place I could see that had not been conquered by the pitch-black shadows. I wondered what had happened to the other ponies on the train, what had happened to Twilight...Twilight!! What happened to her?? My mind was made up: I needed to find Twilight. If I have ever learned anything from Mane Effect 3, it would be that friends...er...acquaintances (or whatever Twilight and I were) always had to stick together – chances of survival in a strange land with a possible hostile presence are little to none. Upon entering the pitch-black forest, I knew it would be difficult finding Twilight if she was still unconscious (assuming she was unconscious to begin with). I thought of shouting for her, but that would probably have caused more harm than good – I seem to have the ability to amplify my voice to...unnecessary levels. I probably picked that up after sinking 113 hours into The Elder Ponies V. (That was a joke, of course.) After walking for what felt like an eternity, I came across the wreckage of what I was almost positive was the exact train car Twilight and I had been riding in. Twilight had to be nearby. I remembered that each train car had an emergency flashlight mounted on the wall. I searched the wreckage and was lucky enough to come across one, still intact. It may not have been Twilight, but it sure made my search a heck of a lot easier. I ventured further into the forest. The flashlight was an older model, incapable of producing much light, but it was at least a start. Suddenly, I felt a warm, wet substance trickle down my forehead. I dabbed my hoof at the source to find that I was bleeding. Apparently, I had suffered an open wound to the forehead, but I hadn't noticed it amidst the pain in the rest of the body. Celestia must have been watching over me, however, for I finally found Twilight. She was unconscious, lying on her back, uncomfortably wedged in between two rocks, one on each of her sides. Light bruises could be seen on her legs, and scars decorated her stomach and most likely her back as well. Most noticeable was a large gash across her left cheek. She suffered more than I had; if only it could have been the other way around. Considering we were both injured, I figured that I should take her to look for some first aid, or if that didn't happen, get her the heck out of the forest and to a hospital. I gently lifted her out of the stone prison, allowing her to rest on my back. Her own weight combined with the pain I was already suffering did a number on my back, but I pulled through in the end. Probably fifteen minutes later, I discovered a lone cabin situated by a river. It was powered by a waterwheel, but the lights were out, so I assumed that no one was inside. Still, I checked the area for first aid. The door was not locked, surprisingly. I stepped inside and flipped on the lights, but i soon wished I hadn't. The body of somepony I didn't recognize had been stashed in the corner, an axe wound in between its eyes. Following the first bad omen came another: a scream off in the distance, followed by a cloud of shadows speeding by outside, very similar to the event on the train. I knew I could no longer wait for Twilight to come to on her own. I set her down as gently as I had lifted her, and as quickly as I could, I grabbed a bucket, bolted out of the cabin, filled the bucket with water from the river, ran back inside, and dowsed Twilight with it. She awoke almost immediately. Chapter 10: Contact! Darkness abated from the vertical extremes of Twilight Sparkle's eyes. Dazed, she attempted to pin-point her location, but her surroundings were too unfamiliar. Considering that the train was the last thing she could remember, she questioned the process by which she had arrived in a hollow cube of weathered wood planks. Twilight did not notice the dried blood on her cheek or the water still clinging to her fur. Postal Code, having emptied the contents of the bucket just moments ago, remained in an awkward position, staring intently at Twilight as if he was trying to determine whether his actions returned the intended result. Upon noticing her movement, he quickly jumped back and attempted to act in a more casual manner, Twilight slowly raised an eyebrow and tried to speak: "P-Postal Code? Wh...What happened?" Postal Code didn't respond. He resolved to stare at her again, and moments later, he proceeded to move closer to her. He hugged her, and a tear fell from his eye. Twilight, quite shocked by the sudden gesture, broke from the embrace and pushed Postal Code away. Following this incredibly awkward moment, neither Twilight nor Postal Code knew what to say or do next. Twilight knew that now was not the time to start a conflict, and Postal Code had actually seemed to anticipate Twilight's reaction. So, having not decided upon anything, the mare and the stallion just sat there, each trying not to make eye contact with the other for too long. Finally, Twilight spoke: "I'll ask you again – what happened?" "To make a long story short, the train crashed, you were unconscious, and I carried you here." "Exactly where is 'here'?" "Um...to be honest, I'm not totally sure. All I know is that we are in a cabin on the side of a river in some forest." "Are you sure you couldn't be a little more specific?" "Well, if it helps any, I think we are in the forest adjacent to the track the train was following. But if I knew anything more, I would have told you." Twilight scurried over to the window. It was too dark outside to clearly perceive anything. Twilight felt as though she was about to panic, but her own consciousness calmed her. They were only lost in the woods. Ponies go missing all the time (around the Everfree Forest, at least) and they always show up soon after. Pretty soon, they would be out of the forest; they would return to Ponyville and find the author...wait a minute! What happened to the manuscript pages?? She asked Postal Code just that. "You had them, right? Then they should be close to the wreckage nearby where I found you." "Then we should hurry. We can't let this minor setback stop us from returning the manuscript." "But it's way too dark out there! How will we find the pages without any light?" "For your information, I did happen to notice that flashlight on the floor next to you. I assume you used it to find this cabin in the first place." "Oh...right." Twilight continued: "Plus, I just so happen to have a light source of my own." With that declaration, Twilight's horn began to glow, the tip emitting a radiant purple-pink light. The horn illuminated everything within Twilight's vicinity, much more than Postal Code's flashlight could ever dream of accomplishing. Now, this should not have been anything particularly noticeable to Postal Code. After all, he did attend a college in which he was considered a minority (Canterlot Academy consisted almost entirely of unicorns) so he should have seen the illumination spell performed before, if not countless times. In fact, he did. It was quite strange, for he did seem a bit in awe of the spell. Perhaps, could he have been jealous due to his lack of magical potential? Twilight headed towards the door. Postal Code did not move. Her voice showing the slightest instance of agitation, Twilight said, "Come on, Postal Code! The sooner we find the manuscript pages, the sooner we can get out of this forest!" Postal Code remained in place. For some reason, he appeared as if he had just been lobotomized. And the sooner I can return to my normal life, completely devoid of stallions with dissociative disorders, Twilight thought. As she passed through the threshold of the front door, she heard a voice from inside the cabin call out, "Um...wait!" Twilight reluctantly turned her head. Postal Code continued: "Could we, um, just forget all this ever happened?" Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Um, I mean...when I, like, hugged you, and all...could we just pretend that never happened?" "At least until we get back to Ponyville, yes," was Twilight's response. Countless questions overwhelmed Postal Code's mind. Should he tell Twilight at all what had happened before he woke her up? Did she already know? How could she not have noticed anything Postal Code had noticed? How could she be oblivious to his injuries as well as her own? What in Tartarus could have kept her from noticing that dead pony in the corner? (Funny thing, that dead pony. The corpse was real, but it seemed like it was more for show – as if it was more like a bad plot device!) And what the hay is so darn important about those manuscript pages? Of course, Postal Code, being the currently-incomprehensible earth pony he is, decided to disregard all of these inquiries and follow Twilight. *** Was Postal Code afraid of the dark? Hardly. He once crawled through the pitch-black sewers of Baltimare to satisfy a dare. It wasn't the darkness that got to him. Rather, it was the thought of a potential threat. He nearly lost said dare because the sound of nearby construction work had set his hyperactive imagination in motion. So, Postal Code's memories of the three omens – the body, the scream, the dark cloud – scared him out of his wits. He tried his best not to show it, but Twilight Sparkle occasionally noticed his legs shaking. A fear of the dark did not overwhelm Twilight either. Hey eyes could handle a little challenge, so long as Twilight remained on schedule and within the range of her knowledge. Of course, neither was true at the current time – she was supposed to have arrived in Ponyville hours ago, and she really didn't know how to escape from this forest – so one could say she was just as scared as Postal Code was. *** Minutes passed, though they felt like hours. Twilight Sparkle and Postal Code continued on as the density of the darkness around them expanded relentlessly. Attempting to mask her alleged fear, Twilight declared, "Be on the lookout for anything. You never know when something just might–" A throwing knife flew past Twilight's face and secured itself in a nearby tree. Out of the darkness sprung another pony, its body veiled in shadows and the clefts of its hooves fastened with two sickles. The pony knocked Twilight to the ground and held a sickle to her neck. Twilight tried to gaze into the ponies eyes, as if to try and identify her assailant, but the shroud of darkness prevented eye contact. Though Postal Code, in any other situation, would have been one to avoid clichés, he screamed the only thing he could think of at the moment: "NO!!" Postal Code charged forward and collided head-first with the pony, knocking it away and giving Twilight just enough time to recover from shock. She couldn't believe it, but Twilight heard a voice: Harness the power of your light. It is the only way to defeat them. The voice was quite similar, if not identical, to the voice she had heard in her dream – ugh, just thinking about that nightmare gave her the creeps. The pony charged at Twilight again. Somehow, Twilight seemed to know what the "voice" meant by "harnessing the power of the light." Praying that she had the right idea, Twilight lowered her horn, aimed at the pony, and let off an enormous burst of light energy, The burst traveled straight forward and made direct contact with the unsuspecting assailant. The result was a massive flare of light. It was too bright to handle; Twilight and Postal Code had to avert their eyes for their vision's sake. After the light dissipated, there was nothing. No blood. No dust or ashes. No metal particles from the weapons. There were literally no traces of the pony's existence. Twilight's trying to figure out where the pony could have gone paralyzed her, but Postal Code felt differently. His jaw agape, he continued to stare towards the spot on the ground at which the darkness-covered pony was standing just moments ago. Eventually, he came to his senses and said, "Th-that...was...AWESOME!!" Twilight tried to ignore Postal Code's immature outburst, and she resolved to continue moving forward. "Come on, Postal Code, now's not the time to gawk! You need to show me where the manuscript pages ended up," she said. Realizing that he had once again done serious damage to Twilight's impression of him, Postal Code calmed himself down. He proceeded to follow Twilight as a strange shadow danced behind the trees, a small portion of its shape reflecting the faintest hint of teal. Chapter 11: Selection The city of Baltimare, on the outside, appeared to be the epitome of utopian progress. The economy was booming, the buildings were state-of-the-art, and the streets were unimaginably tidy. Though it was not known to everyone, however, the city's image of a perfect society actually belied a crime ring so large and ruthless that even the entirety of the Canterlot Royal Guard would have a hard time suppressing it. But, perhaps, "rough" is an understatement. Anypony who happened to set foot alone into an alley or other remote location had a 96.7125138% chance of being mugged...or worse. It was the knowledge of this crime ring that kept most visitors out of Baltimare. It was the knowledge that could even drive a patrolling pegasus to flee in terror and deliver a falsified "all clear" message. This was why residents called Baltimare the greatest faҫade in Equestria's history. Yet, despite all this, Baltimare was Postal Code's birthplace, and the events occurring within this city would be what set his story in motion. *** "Yes! Only five more minutes until I'm finally free!" The teacher was still belaboring Equestrian History, trying to teach one final lesson, but Postal Code couldn't take his eyes off the clock. Just five minutes until he would no longer be a senior at William Hoofinger High School. Finally, after twelve long years, he would have a chance to rest. He would finally have the time to sleep in, or learn a musical instrument, or even practice sketching. However, one thing continued to haunt him: college. All of his fellow seniors had already applied and been accepted into their respective college choices, but Postal Code planned to take a year off and rest. His friends consistently reminded of him of his screwing himself over – the college application process was exponentially harder if not done during or immediately after high school – but postal Code felt that he deserved a chance to rest. Besides, he had a great resume, a stellar transcript, and even a bit of work experience under his metaphorical belt, so he doubted he would have a hard time even then. 3:00. The bell began to project its usual high-pitched ringing. Immediately following was a mass mob of students galloping though the hallway – had anypony tripped and fell, he or she would have been trampled in seconds. Postal Code joined the crowd as he pondered his schedule for the rest of the day. He quickly remembered what he had been wanting to do all day: meet with his friends and plan an end-of-school celebration. Halfway across the hallway, Postal Code noticed a young stallion with grey fur and a lime-green mane. The stallion appeared to be standing and staring at the wall – at the point, Postal Code already knew who it was. Postal Code called out: "Um, Question Mark? What the hay are you doing?" The stallion replied, "I'm standing here, staring at a wall." "May I ask why?" "What? Is there some law or something that says I can't stand around and stare at walls?" "Well, no, but–" "I rest my case." Ladies and gentlemen, meet Question Mark. He may have been one of Postal Code's childhood friends, but even to this day Postal Code still could not comprehend him. Question Mark's entire being – his personality, actions, etc. – were impossible to understand. His cutie mark could have been a last resort in figuring out something about him, but even that was useless; it was the number five atop a grey rhombus. But despite his incomprehensible nature, Question Mark was overflowing with charisma and easily got along with just about anypony. Changing the subject to something with actual relevance, Postal Code inquired, "Anyway, do you have any idea where the others are?" "Well, knowing Lionheart, he's probably saying goodbye to all of his teachers. Striped Saint probably forgot about us in his excitement to leave." "Hold on a second. Didn't I ask you to keep everyone together, because you all have classes in the same relative location?" "You did, but as you could see, I changed my mind about my responsibilities and decided to stare at this wall." "As always, you continue to baffle me. But that's besides the point. Do you think you'd be able to find Striped Saint if I go after Lionheart?" "Well, he is more exciting than this wall, so I'd say so." *** Lionheart may never have meant to do so, but he always led his friends into wild goose chases. Postal Code searched through the entire building with no luck, but that was before he remembered Lionheart's typical after-school location: the art rooms. Lionheart could sustain a conversation with his now-former art teacher for hours on end, so postal Code usually found him there. This time was no exception. After joining a lengthy and inspirational conversation with the red-furred, blue-maned, abnormally polite stallion and his former art teacher, Postal Code directed Lionheart to the front lobby so they could hopefully meet up with Question Mark and Striped Saint. "It's about time!" exclaimed a white pegasus with a jet-black mane containing a single orange stripe down the right side. "we've been sitting here for, like, thirty-five minutes!" The youngest of the four (while others were entering college, he was only completing his freshman year), Striped Saint tried his hardest to fit in with the group. Of course, his definition of "fitting in" seemed to include loud outbursts and spontaneous behaviour. Nopony seemed to mind, though. Well, everypony except for Question Mark. Striped Saint was the only pony with which Question Mark could not easily get along. Most of the time, they seemed rather close, but when they fought, not even Lionheart's exceptional personality could mediate the conflict. Usually, Postal Code had to intervene and make the two feel ashamed for quarreling over something that was most always nominal. Question Mark, agitated as always by Striped Saint's outburst, immediately responded, "Saint, it's not that big of a deal! It's the last day of high school for the two of them, so we can't blame them for wanting to say goodbye!" Postal Code foresaw a quarrel and intervened: "Guys, calm down! Are a few wasted minuted on a day in which we have nothing planned really worth fighting over??" The four were silent. Apparently, Postal Code successfully averted another potential conflict. Finally, Postal Code concluded, "Question Mark, I rest my case." After a few more minutes of random discussions, Striped Saint asked, "So...what are we doing about this whole celebration thing?" Postal Code hadn't actually thought of a good idea yet, so he dodged the question by asking the others what they felt like doing. None of the others knew either; they had hoped Postal Code thought of something. "Well, if no one has any ideas, then how about we just try heading around town until we find something we want to do?" Question Mark agreed but in addition replied, "Postal Code, just remember that you promised pie!" "I did? When was this?" "It was right after we defeated the tribe of evil, murderous pomegranates!" "Uh...are you sure you weren't dreaming at the time?" "I don't dream. I envision." Lionheart had been silent for most of the conversation, but upon hearing the conversation's frightfully off-topic direction, he interrupted and declared, "I believe it would be in everyone's best interest if we discontinued this conversation and began our exciting, albeit disorganized celebration." The others were shocked by Lionheart's statement. He usually didn't try to interrupt anything, but when he did, his voice always had the greatest impact. Without a word, the four left the building. *** Postal Code struggled to awake the next morning. From a pizza shop to a rowdy nightclub, the four had done nothing but waste money and barely avoid debauchery. Postal Code had seemed to forget most of the highlights of night other than his purchase of a glass of chocolate milk priced at 33 Bits and his leaving the establishment with his friends at around 4:20 A.M. He learned one thing from this experience: never go along with Question Mark's impulses. Postal Code then took the next forty-five minutes to recite his daily morning routine. Lionheart called three times during that interval: one while Postal Code was taking a shower, once while he was brushing his teeth, and once while he was eating a late breakfast. For most ponies, the recent invention of the telephone had become a crucial tool for communication. Postal Code, on the other hoof, found it rather trying, largely due to Lionheart's egregious timing. Postal Code called back as soon as he was sure he had nothing more significant to do. The conversation went as follows: "Hey, Postal Code, I was wondering..." "What about?" "Well, do you think you we could all meet up again and go do something?" "Any particular reason why? I mean, we did just spend a little too much time out and about last night." "Postal Code, you and I both know that dumb nightclubs like that are nowhere near my definition of 'fun.' I'd prefer something more civilized, like an art gallery!" "Same here, but good luck convincing the others with that idea!" "I'm sure if we talk it out again, we'll think of something." "Okay, I guess you win. But you're going to have to get Striped Saint; I can't seem to remember his number." "Great, I say we meet up outside the Library. See you there!" *** When Postal Code and Question Mark arrived at the rendezvous determined by Lionheart, Striped Saint greeted them not with a hello, but with a string of complaints. "Can we hurry up and do something already? I think I can actually taste the boredom seeping from that old building behind us!" "That old building," Lionheart retorted, "You mean the Library? Our vast wealth of knowledge, which nopony could live without?" Striped Saint acquired a more defensive tone. "No, you mean the boring way out of a problem!" Nopony really understood the logic behind Striped Saint's claim, but Question Mark felt some sort of significance in going against the pegasus whom he felt to be his rival. "How could you possibly diss the library?? It might not be that leather toaster-cozy I've always wanted, but it's pretty darn important!" After this, an actual argument broke out between the three of them, making it one of the few times Lionheart even entered an argument. Luckily, Postal Code realized how pointless the quarrel really was, so he attempted to once again mediate his friends' conflict. Unfortunately, nopony paid attention to poor Postal Code, for the argument, regardless of its insignificance, had become a seemingly major issue. Postal Code steadily grew in anger until he finally snapped, bellowing an exceptionally loud, obtrusive... "OBJECTION!" Everypony went silent. Eventually, one of them asked, "Um...Postal Code, what are you objecting to?" Postal Code paused for a moment and said, "I, um, didn't object to anything; I was just trying to get your attention! This really isn't worth fighting over! Besides, we were going to go do something, so we need to stop wasting our time!" *** Not too long later, the four resolved their conflict and proceeded to wander the streets of Baltimare. Their plan of action consisted mainly of activities from their previous excursion (minus the nightclub, of course). They stopped at a restaurant at some point, but most of their time was spent visiting any kind of store that caught any of their eyes. Normally, none of them would be doing such a thing, but they had been bored out of their minds for the past few days and needed anything at all to do. While they tried to resolve to avoid buying anything on account of the squandering of their money the night before, Lionheart eventually ended up purchasing a clearance hat. In his defense, he stated that there was supposed to be a large storm later that night, and he had forgotten to bring some form of cover. Plus, he didn't see the point in going to so many stores without ever spending a bit. In time, Lionheart's statements were proven valid. As the four began their trips to their respective homes (coincidentally, they all lived in the same relative area), an enormous storm brewed overhead. A massive torrent of rain began to fall; streets nearly flooded as it halted most outdoor activity within the city. As the rain fell, Lionheart was glad to have made the purchase; the hat kept his head relatively dry. Unfortunately, he was not expecting a powerful gale to follow. The wind blew his hat clean off his head, resulting in its landing in a very suspicious-looking alley. As previously mentioned, there was a reason nopony would enter the alleys. Any other pony would have run away and realized how worthless the hat was. But Lionheart was not any other pony. He mustered up enough courage to begin to walk into the alley, but his friends stopped him. Striped Saint reminded him of the consequences of his decision. Postal Code assured him he could easily purchase another hat. But Lionheart believed in himself; he believed that he would be fine so long as he hurried in, grabbed the hat, and sprinted out. Even so, Postal Code still would not allow him to enter alone. This in turn led to the four's entering together. As planned, they entered and grabbed the hat. They then proceeded to leave. If only it were that simple. At the last possible instant, a stallion, some sort of criminal, leapt from the shadows, drew a knife, and plunged it into Lionheart's back. Lionheart, somehow not at all phased by the attack, put up a struggle, but the criminal removed the knife, dodged around to the other side, and stabbed again, this time into Lionheart's chest. The other three had been frozen in shock during this time, but Postal Code quickly recovered and, forgetting the danger he faced, tackled the assailant. The knife remained planted in Lionheart's chest. Question Mark was the second to recover, and he tried to assist Postal Code in subduing the criminal. Striped Saint spread his wings and took off in search of the Police. In a not-so-shocking turn of events, the criminal countered and proceeded to land a series of hits on Postal Code and Question Mark, incapacitating both of them. Seemingly assured of his victory, he once again removed the knife from Lionheart and closed in on the other two. "I wonder which one of you I should kill next," he snorted. None of them tried to continue fighting, so he squatted down next to Postal Code and pressed the bloody knife to his neck. "How 'bout you? You look like you're ready to die–" He flew forwards and landed head-first on the ground, falling unconscious upon impact. A portion of his back had caught fire. Postal Code observed the spectacle and realized that something of that nature, to have come so suddenly, could have only been the work of a unicorn's magic. Strength fading, he turned his head to see Lionheart struggling to get up, his horn still glowing with a violet aura. His struggle was no use, however, for he couldn't prevail against a creeping unconsciousness. Postal Code began to grow weaker and followed suit. *** Postal Code awoke inside Baltimare's general hospital. He was being treated for minor cuts and bruises (his unconscious state led the paramedics to believe he was in a worse condition), but his injuries were of no interest to him. He only wanted to know of his friends' fates. Postal Code soon learned from a doctor that Question Mark, who had been undergoing treatment for similar injuries, had made a full recovery and was to be discharged the next day, but Lionheart... Lionheart was dead. He died from a loss of blood on the way to the hospital. To make matters worse, the criminal, somehow, managed to escape... *** That was as much as he needed to see. Clearly, Postal Code had suffered enough trauma in his lifetime; it seemed his psyche could potentially be broken without strife. It was now clear: Postal Code would be the perfect candidate. Chapter 1: Is This a Prank? The lavender unicorn stopped to think for a moment, to try and make sense of the situation. It just seemed so odd – since when is it common to find somepony you don't remember seeking you out? Especially to give you a stack of old, type-written papers. The unicorn probably should have just thrown out the papers - after all, it was most likely some sort of prank. But if it was a prank, it was a very elaborate one, and that stallion surely wasn't from Ponyville. Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash don't really have that many connections outside of town, so it was pretty hard to believe he would be a friend of theirs, or something. And who else would manifest a prank as elaborate as this? And how exactly would these papers fit in with it? Mind racing, the unicorn tried to relax, but to no avail. Curiosity had gotten the better of her. She surely didn't know what these papers were, but could anyone else? Maybe Princess Celestia would know, but it seemed like too small a subject to bring up. Hold on a second. Why didn't she just read the papers and see if she could figure it out then? Honestly, she had no common sense. The unicorn examined the partially crumpled page at the top of the stack. Nothing much, just a title page. DEPARTURE BY ALAN WAKE Chapter 2: Special Delivery "Hey, uh, would you happen to be Twilight Sparkle?" "Why, yes. Um...do I know you?" "Probably not. I'm not from around here. Wait, you're not either." "What?" "You went to the Canterlot Academy, right?" "Yes, why?" "That's actually where I just came from. You probably don't remember me; I usually spent most of my time in the science lab." "Oh, you were the one that was so fascinated with that computer?" "Yeah, that's me. You know, I'm really starting to envy those 'humans.' I hear they have tons of computers in their world!" "Personally, I just want to know how they got a hold of something from another dimension!" "Yeah, but I guess there's a reason why they won't tell us." "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, but I can't seem to remember your name." "No problem. My name's Postal Code." "You see, now I remember you – I'm sorry, I feel like it was so rude to forget." "Like I said, it's no problem...oh, crap, I almost forgot." "What's wrong?" "We've been catching up for so long that I forgot to give you these." "Um...what are they?" "I'm not really sure. I just found these sitting next to the computer one day. I asked around, see if, like, someone lost them or something, but no one knew." "So, then, why did you come all this way just to deliver them to me?" "When I was asking around, a few ponies said something like, 'Go see Twilight Sparkle about that. She should know.' It's a good thing they told me you were here, or else I probably would have never found you." "But, I never told anyone I was leaving. Well, besides my parents, of course." "Apparently, studying abroad is a big thing there. Word travels fast. I mean, it's not every day somepony gets to trade classes for a chance to study 'the magic of friendship.'" "Yeah, I guess you're right." "Well, I should probably be heading back. You wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get Princess Celestia to let me come here." "Uh...okay, then. Thanks for the, uh, papers?" Now what the heck am I going to do with these? Chapter 7: Thought Process The events of the previous four days reiterated constantly in Postal Code's mind. Although everything seemed to have commenced without any real problems, he just couldn't help but think that he had left a bad impression on Twilight Sparkle. After all, he had just appeared to her out of nowhere – in a very stalker-like manner, too – only to give her the manuscript pages while claiming he didn't know what they were. Not only did that make him look incompetent, but it made him look like he was too lazy to even read them. If he was ever to ask her to the prom, he simply couldn't be branded by tags like those. Remembering the work he had to make up because of his excursion to Ponyville, Postal Code quelled his slight paranoia with, "Oh well, she probably won't be coming back to Canterlot Academy any time soon, so I really shouldn't worry about what she thinks of me." Besides, he had more important things to do – like finish his work so he could get back to Colt Icarus: Uprising, or Stable III, or even Manecraft. Ever easily distracted, however, Postal Code's mind drifted away from his essay on Equestrian literature and returned to worrying about his impression on Twilight. The worst part about it was that he really had been too lazy to read the manuscript pages; he never once looked past the title page. That certainly wouldn't fare well with somepony who absolutely adores reading. Because he couldn't retrieve his previous attention to his essay, Postal Code left his desk and glanced out the window, just in time to see a lavender-colored unicorn carrying a stack of type-written papers pass by.
Chapter 3: What They Really Were Night was approaching. The day reached its grand finale, but there was no call for an encore. Twilight Sparkle had nearly finished examining the manuscript pages. Turns out, they were just the prototype for a novel called Departure. This story is really good, Twilight thought. It's a shame that someone lost it. Hopefully, the author wouldn't come searching for the pages anytime soon – no doubt he would never expect to find them in a small town, miles away. Concluding her expedition through the chilling text, Twilight was at a loss for words. She was surprised that she had overcome her initial horror at the murder plot so quickly – she had never read something so...controversial...before – but once she started, she just couldn't stop. Rainbow Dash would probably like this. But what was it about this story that made it so interesting? Was it the fluent writing, the thoughtful diction? Was it the rebellious idea of a story surrounding horror and murder? Either way, it was just a story – it didn't seem to be as important as Postal Code made it out to be. It might be a good idea to make a trip to Canterlot to return these pages. After all, the author could come looking for them at any time, and he probably wouldn't be too happy to learn that his manuscript had been exchanged all the way to Ponyville. Twilight called out to Spike. "Spike! Tomorrow, I'm going to head over to Canterlot. If you would, please adjust my monthly schedule likewise." "What's the deal this time," inquired an exhausted baby dragon walking into the Ponyville Library's main hall. "You need to get another time-altering spell or something?" "Very funny," remarked Twilight, somewhat agitated by Spike's comment on a very embarrassing situation. "Actually, I need to return these manuscript pages to their rightful owner." "That's nice, I guess. Hey, could you pick me up some ice cream while you're out?" Twilight began to climb the stairs toward her bedroom. Without even turning around, she quickly spat out, "Maybe." *** She couldn't sleep. With all the excitement she built up reading the manuscript to Departure, Twilight just couldn't keep her eyes shut. Using "Maybe reading it again will help me fall asleep" as an excuse to begin reading the manuscript again, she snatched up the pages as if they were recently misplaced diamonds. The man turned to face me. His face was covered in shadows. It was hard to make him out in the darkness of the forest that surrounded us, but the axe he lifted was plain to see. It glistened with the blood of his victim. He grinned madly. The shadows were alive, distorting his features. It was a scene from a nightmare, but I was awake.
Chapter 4: A Portrait of the Artist... Though he seemed to know her, Twilight Sparkle was completely convinced that she had never seen the stallion before. His entire fur coat gave off a sleek teal color; his mane a soft green. His large, attentive eyes contained two magenta irises, and it was clear by their shrinking that he was uneasy about something. The hair atop his head, obviously gel-coated and unsuccessfully styled, drooped slightly above his right eye. His flank bore a very peculiar symbol: a dark grey rectangle behind two downward chevrons – one teal, one green. Just what exactly did that represent? Twilight noticed the stallion's inability to keep eye contact with her. It seemed that whenever he tried to look at her straight in the eyes, his cheeks turned a barely noticeable red – at least, barely noticeable to anyone other than her. The stallion also carried a rugged purple backpack; multiple stacks of papers stuck out like flowers sprouting from the ground. Each paper was type-written, and some even showed off tears or crinkles. With nervous eyes, a blushing face, and suspicious papers sprouting from his backpack, the stallion looked to be the typical teenage nerd with an irrational crush. Twilight thought she knew where this was going.
Chapter 5: Equestrian Nightmare Twilight Sparkle awoke upon a mattress of soft grass. Somehow, her bedroom had been replaced by a forest. It was not the Everfree Forest, however, for the trees were too massive and the surrounding area too dark. Twilight could barely even see herself through the darkness. There was a faint light up ahead. Assuming the light to mean other life, Twilight hastily sped towards the source. Maybe then could she figure out where she had ended up. The forest was quite a frightening place; Twilight half-expected some sort of monster to jump out from behind the trees, or a horde of zombies to rise from the ground. Or maybe even something similar to a scene from Departure. Twilight laughed at the idea, thinking she had developed an unhealthy obsession with the manuscript. But alas, she made assumptions too quickly, as Twilight tripped over something on the ground. Using her horn as a temporary light source, Twilight was horrified to learn of the thing she had tripped over. It was Rainbow Dash. More specifically, it was the body of Rainbow Dash. She lay limp on the ground before Twilight. There was no pulse, no breathing. She was dead. Holding back sorrow and anger, Twilight examined the body and hoped for an explanation. She found it. There was an enormous gash spanning Rainbow Dash's back. It appeared to have been cleaved open by an axe of some sort. One of her wings was missing, hacked clean off. Part of her right ear appeared to have been gnawed off. Just then, Twilight took notice of the blood decorating the ground and a nearby tree. Though it clearly was not the time for black bile, Twilight jokingly expected to find Fluttershy's decapitated head tied to the tree. Luckily, no such thing was present, only Dashie's missing wing hanging from a tree branch. Concluding her analysis of the crime scene, Twilight deduced that Rainbow Dash had most likely been murdered by a serial killer or something similar who may still be abiding in the forest. She then realized that she was in grave danger. Trot turned to gallop and gallop turned to a full-on sprint as Twilight bolted towards the light. Forget going home; if anypony was really there, she'd need to warn whoever she may find of the dangerous killer on the loose, before it was too late. *** There was nothing. The light emanated from a single lamp post, of which Twilight didn't even want to learn of the power source. Suddenly, a voice called out to her. Stay in the light. You are safe in the light. Before Twilight could ask who was speaking, the light flickered and diminished. She heard it again. You are safe in the light. The darkness cannot harm you there. Twilight noticed a shadowy figure in the distance. It appeared to be another pony. The mare turned to face Twilight. Her face was covered in shadows. It was hard to make her out in the darkness of the forest that surrounded them, but the axe she lifted was plain to see. It glistened with the blood of her victim. She grinned madly. The darkness was alive, distorting her features. It was a scene from a nightmare, but Twilight was awake. The mare spoke: "Hi, I'm Pinkie Pie!" Her voice was as distorted as her face; the pitch shifted continually. "I threw this party just for you!" "P-P-Pinkie?? What's going on?" Twilight muttered, terrified to death. "W-what happened to you?" "Are you excited? 'Cause I'm so excited I've never been so excited!" "Pinkie Pie, snap out of it!!" The shadow-coated Pinkie Pie ran over to Twilight and swung the axe. You must stay in the light. Your life depends on it. Then, the axe was upon her.
Chapter 6: It Seemed so...Real She awoke abruptly the next morning. Her eyes opened almost instantly; it took a few seconds for the world to come into focus. She was breathing quite heavily, almost as if she was in a state of hyperventilation. Her heart conducted a symphony in 8/16 time. As soon as Twilight Sparkle calmed, she realized that she had returned to her bedroom. Thank Celestia it had all been a dream. Twilight rubbed her hoof against the side of her head – had the nightmare come alive, that would have been where the axe had struck. Twilight could still feel ghost pains in the area; she could almost sense the axe still stuck in her temple. It just seemed so...real. Could it have been something she ate? Pinkie Pie's cupcakes did taste a tad strange the other day. Then again, she rarely makes mistakes while baking. Gleaming rays of light penetrated the glass window. For any other pony, the light would signify the beginning of a beautiful, eventful day. For Twilight, however, it only signaled that she had overslept...and was behind schedule. She sped through her morning routine, said goodbye to Spike, almost forgot to grab the manuscript papers, and sprinted to the train. Just in time, too. She planned to arrive at the train station 45 minutes before departure; luckily, she had at least managed to arrive with 26 minutes to spare. She still had some time before the train left, and it takes approximately one hour to reach Canterlot by train, so she decided to read over the manuscript to Departure one more time. At the last instant, I changed direction and threw myself down; the axe splintered the trunk of a tree. I stumbled into the pool of bright light. My lungs burned; I was too exhausted to move. I tensed as I waited for the killing blow, but it never came. I raised my head. Nothing moved in the darkness beyond. For the moment, bathed in the cold light, I was safe.
Chapter 8: Rise of the Dark Presence Approximately one hour and 45 minutes after the train had left Ponyville, Twilight Sparkle, having not moved from her seat on the train, concluded her third reading of Departure. As she slowly returned to reality, Twilight realized that she was supposed to have exited the train 45 minutes ago! Lucky for her, the train did not depart again until 1:25 PM – about one hour and 40 minutes from the current time – or else she may not have arrived at the stylistic, regal architecture of Canterlot. Twilight's mission was simple: locate Postal Code, explain to him what the manuscript pages were, and search for the author with or without Postal Code's help. Recalling her semi-vague memories of the Canterlot Academy, she assumed that he would most likely be in the science lab, so she headed there immediately. On the way to the science lab, three ponies vaguely familiar to Twilight approached her. One of them exclaimed: "Hey, Twilight! Haven't seen you in a long time!" Twilight stayed only long enough to give an acknowledgement of the pony's existence. "Sorry, I don't have the time to talk right now," she said. Twilight began to gallop off when she heard another pony whisper, "Geez, she hasn't changed a bit!" Thinking it best to not pay attention, Twilight continued on to the science lab. This certainly was not the time to get reacquainted with everypony in the academy. Besides, she had begun to worry about Spike – Celestia only knows what he could have gotten into by now. *** Twilight found Postal Code exactly where she had expected – inside the science lab, in front of the computer. He was typing away, punching each key with a quill held firmly in his mouth. A translucent bar at the top of the monitor's screen read "Microsoft Visual Studio 2010." Twilight could not understand the jumbled characters on the screen, but the computer clearly could, as certain clusters of letters changed color following Postal Code's input. He heard hooves colliding with the marble floor and exclaimed, "Professor, I think I've figured it out! The .cpp file is what tells the program what to do!" Twilight, having been mistaken for Postal Code's teacher, replied, "Um...I'm not your teacher..." Postal Code though he recognized the voice, turned around, and nearly suffered from a heart attack. He hadn't anticipated Twilight's arrival...or her approaching him directly. He tried to mask his mixed feelings of shock and excitement, stiffening his posture, removing the hoof he had thrust into his chest. Though he tried not to stutter, he asked, "H-h-h-how d-did you know I would, um, b-be here?" "Is that a rhetorical question?" she returned. "Um...no, I was just...a little surprised, is all." "Well, if memory serves me correctly, I figured you would be in the science lab, like usual." "Oh, uh, yeah. So, um, what exactly did you come here for?" "I looked through these papers and thought I'd inform you of what they really were. Turns out, they're just the rough draft of a novel!" "But, why would you come all the way here just to tell me that?" "I couldn't bear to think that the author lost these, so I traveled here to return them to him." Postal Code's eyes widened, as if he had just realized he had made a horrible mistake. "Um...about the author..." "What? Did you see him?" "Well, he actually came by the other day looking for the pages, I...kinda sent him to Ponyville to find you..." Twilight was truly shocked – she honestly hadn't expected that to happen. Tensely, she inquired, "Did he leave already?" "Well, he did say something about catching the next train," Postal Code replied. "How long ago was this?" "A few hours ago, so he may have caught the train already." "Then I'll head back immediately. What did he look like?" "I...can't remember. I'd know if I saw him, but..." "Then you're going to have to come with me. We have no time to lose!" Twilight Sparkle dashed out of the room, hoping Postal Code would keep up. He logged out of the computer, packed his backpack, and darted out of the room while trying not to let his excitement at the thought of spending time with Twilight get the better of him. *** They had been lucky enough to catch a train to Ponyville almost immediately following their arrival at the station. Another hour and Twilight would resume her search for the author. To pass the time, Twilight once again began to read Departure. I turned the corner, afraid of what the flashlight's beam might reveal. Suddenly, a roughly painted symbol of a torch glowed in the light. Behind it, hidden by a rock, sat a battered metal trunk. It was there for a reason, packed with supplies: batteries, flares, ammo. Things you need to make it through the darkness of the night. Something left behind by someone who knew what I knew, and more. Postal Code had envisioned talking with Twilight the whole time, to get to know her better. That had not happened so far, so he tried to change things. "Um...Twilight?" Though she struggled to do so, Twilight reluctantly tore her eyes from the manuscript. She looked up at him, and he spoke again: "Is it good?" She stared at him blankly for a very brief moment before he amended his question. "The story, I mean." "Oh, yes, it is very entertaining. Didn't you ever read it?" "Well, no, but–" "Well, do you want to?" "Um, I'm not really–" "Oh, come on, Postal Code, reading won't kill you!" She levitated a page to Postal Code's seat. He lifted the page in front of his eyes and read it. The night had been one desperate situation after another. I was exhausted and my body felt as though it had been chewed up and spat out. The flashlight was heavy in my hand, and each pull of the trigger sent a painful shock up my arm. But I was finally out of the woods and things were looking up. That's then I heard the chainsaw. Suddenly, the sunlight in the train car abated almost instantly. Darkness swallowed the sun and clouds, leaving nothing but the appearance of night. Though the clock read only 3:37 PM, the sky looked as though it was hours later. Something was clearly wrong. Ponies in the other train cars began to scream. They did not know what was going on, but it seems to be the natural instinct of living creatures to scream when lights disappear. Postal Code looked up and yelled, "What the heck is going on?!?" Twilight remarked, "How should I know? I have no idea what could have cut the day short!" Nightmare Moon could have caused it, but she had already been subdued, Twilight thought. At the same speed of the train, a huge cluster of shadows traveled nearby. It changed course and collided with the train with unbelievable force, like an armor-piercing round making contact with a human's flesh. Any remaining visible light turned to blackness as both Twilight Sparkle and Postal Code fell unconscious.
Chapter 9: ...From a Different Point of View Once I regained consciousness, a nearly unbearable pain engulfed my body, strongest in my back and right foreleg. My mind was hazy; I had trouble remembering what exactly had happened. The train crash seemed to be all that I could remember. I opened my eyes and took a good look at my surroundings. To my dismay, I learned of my location: a small clearing in the middle of a forest. Probably the forest I could see below the hill of which the train had been traveling on. Darkness seemed to ooze from the gaps in between the trees; the clearing was the only place I could see that had not been conquered by the pitch-black shadows. I wondered what had happened to the other ponies on the train, what had happened to Twilight...Twilight!! What happened to her?? My mind was made up: I needed to find Twilight. If I have ever learned anything from Mane Effect 3, it would be that friends...er...acquaintances (or whatever Twilight and I were) always had to stick together – chances of survival in a strange land with a possible hostile presence are little to none. Upon entering the pitch-black forest, I knew it would be difficult finding Twilight if she was still unconscious (assuming she was unconscious to begin with). I thought of shouting for her, but that would probably have caused more harm than good – I seem to have the ability to amplify my voice to...unnecessary levels. I probably picked that up after sinking 113 hours into The Elder Ponies V. (That was a joke, of course.) After walking for what felt like an eternity, I came across the wreckage of what I was almost positive was the exact train car Twilight and I had been riding in. Twilight had to be nearby. I remembered that each train car had an emergency flashlight mounted on the wall. I searched the wreckage and was lucky enough to come across one, still intact. It may not have been Twilight, but it sure made my search a heck of a lot easier. I ventured further into the forest. The flashlight was an older model, incapable of producing much light, but it was at least a start. Suddenly, I felt a warm, wet substance trickle down my forehead. I dabbed my hoof at the source to find that I was bleeding. Apparently, I had suffered an open wound to the forehead, but I hadn't noticed it amidst the pain in the rest of the body. Celestia must have been watching over me, however, for I finally found Twilight. She was unconscious, lying on her back, uncomfortably wedged in between two rocks, one on each of her sides. Light bruises could be seen on her legs, and scars decorated her stomach and most likely her back as well. Most noticeable was a large gash across her left cheek. She suffered more than I had; if only it could have been the other way around. Considering we were both injured, I figured that I should take her to look for some first aid, or if that didn't happen, get her the heck out of the forest and to a hospital. I gently lifted her out of the stone prison, allowing her to rest on my back. Her own weight combined with the pain I was already suffering did a number on my back, but I pulled through in the end. Probably fifteen minutes later, I discovered a lone cabin situated by a river. It was powered by a waterwheel, but the lights were out, so I assumed that no one was inside. Still, I checked the area for first aid. The door was not locked, surprisingly. I stepped inside and flipped on the lights, but i soon wished I hadn't. The body of somepony I didn't recognize had been stashed in the corner, an axe wound in between its eyes. Following the first bad omen came another: a scream off in the distance, followed by a cloud of shadows speeding by outside, very similar to the event on the train. I knew I could no longer wait for Twilight to come to on her own. I set her down as gently as I had lifted her, and as quickly as I could, I grabbed a bucket, bolted out of the cabin, filled the bucket with water from the river, ran back inside, and dowsed Twilight with it. She awoke almost immediately.
Chapter 10: Contact! Darkness abated from the vertical extremes of Twilight Sparkle's eyes. Dazed, she attempted to pin-point her location, but her surroundings were too unfamiliar. Considering that the train was the last thing she could remember, she questioned the process by which she had arrived in a hollow cube of weathered wood planks. Twilight did not notice the dried blood on her cheek or the water still clinging to her fur. Postal Code, having emptied the contents of the bucket just moments ago, remained in an awkward position, staring intently at Twilight as if he was trying to determine whether his actions returned the intended result. Upon noticing her movement, he quickly jumped back and attempted to act in a more casual manner, Twilight slowly raised an eyebrow and tried to speak: "P-Postal Code? Wh...What happened?" Postal Code didn't respond. He resolved to stare at her again, and moments later, he proceeded to move closer to her. He hugged her, and a tear fell from his eye. Twilight, quite shocked by the sudden gesture, broke from the embrace and pushed Postal Code away. Following this incredibly awkward moment, neither Twilight nor Postal Code knew what to say or do next. Twilight knew that now was not the time to start a conflict, and Postal Code had actually seemed to anticipate Twilight's reaction. So, having not decided upon anything, the mare and the stallion just sat there, each trying not to make eye contact with the other for too long. Finally, Twilight spoke: "I'll ask you again – what happened?" "To make a long story short, the train crashed, you were unconscious, and I carried you here." "Exactly where is 'here'?" "Um...to be honest, I'm not totally sure. All I know is that we are in a cabin on the side of a river in some forest." "Are you sure you couldn't be a little more specific?" "Well, if it helps any, I think we are in the forest adjacent to the track the train was following. But if I knew anything more, I would have told you." Twilight scurried over to the window. It was too dark outside to clearly perceive anything. Twilight felt as though she was about to panic, but her own consciousness calmed her. They were only lost in the woods. Ponies go missing all the time (around the Everfree Forest, at least) and they always show up soon after. Pretty soon, they would be out of the forest; they would return to Ponyville and find the author...wait a minute! What happened to the manuscript pages?? She asked Postal Code just that. "You had them, right? Then they should be close to the wreckage nearby where I found you." "Then we should hurry. We can't let this minor setback stop us from returning the manuscript." "But it's way too dark out there! How will we find the pages without any light?" "For your information, I did happen to notice that flashlight on the floor next to you. I assume you used it to find this cabin in the first place." "Oh...right." Twilight continued: "Plus, I just so happen to have a light source of my own." With that declaration, Twilight's horn began to glow, the tip emitting a radiant purple-pink light. The horn illuminated everything within Twilight's vicinity, much more than Postal Code's flashlight could ever dream of accomplishing. Now, this should not have been anything particularly noticeable to Postal Code. After all, he did attend a college in which he was considered a minority (Canterlot Academy consisted almost entirely of unicorns) so he should have seen the illumination spell performed before, if not countless times. In fact, he did. It was quite strange, for he did seem a bit in awe of the spell. Perhaps, could he have been jealous due to his lack of magical potential? Twilight headed towards the door. Postal Code did not move. Her voice showing the slightest instance of agitation, Twilight said, "Come on, Postal Code! The sooner we find the manuscript pages, the sooner we can get out of this forest!" Postal Code remained in place. For some reason, he appeared as if he had just been lobotomized. And the sooner I can return to my normal life, completely devoid of stallions with dissociative disorders, Twilight thought. As she passed through the threshold of the front door, she heard a voice from inside the cabin call out, "Um...wait!" Twilight reluctantly turned her head. Postal Code continued: "Could we, um, just forget all this ever happened?" Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Um, I mean...when I, like, hugged you, and all...could we just pretend that never happened?" "At least until we get back to Ponyville, yes," was Twilight's response. Countless questions overwhelmed Postal Code's mind. Should he tell Twilight at all what had happened before he woke her up? Did she already know? How could she not have noticed anything Postal Code had noticed? How could she be oblivious to his injuries as well as her own? What in Tartarus could have kept her from noticing that dead pony in the corner? (Funny thing, that dead pony. The corpse was real, but it seemed like it was more for show – as if it was more like a bad plot device!) And what the hay is so darn important about those manuscript pages? Of course, Postal Code, being the currently-incomprehensible earth pony he is, decided to disregard all of these inquiries and follow Twilight. *** Was Postal Code afraid of the dark? Hardly. He once crawled through the pitch-black sewers of Baltimare to satisfy a dare. It wasn't the darkness that got to him. Rather, it was the thought of a potential threat. He nearly lost said dare because the sound of nearby construction work had set his hyperactive imagination in motion. So, Postal Code's memories of the three omens – the body, the scream, the dark cloud – scared him out of his wits. He tried his best not to show it, but Twilight Sparkle occasionally noticed his legs shaking. A fear of the dark did not overwhelm Twilight either. Hey eyes could handle a little challenge, so long as Twilight remained on schedule and within the range of her knowledge. Of course, neither was true at the current time – she was supposed to have arrived in Ponyville hours ago, and she really didn't know how to escape from this forest – so one could say she was just as scared as Postal Code was. *** Minutes passed, though they felt like hours. Twilight Sparkle and Postal Code continued on as the density of the darkness around them expanded relentlessly. Attempting to mask her alleged fear, Twilight declared, "Be on the lookout for anything. You never know when something just might–" A throwing knife flew past Twilight's face and secured itself in a nearby tree. Out of the darkness sprung another pony, its body veiled in shadows and the clefts of its hooves fastened with two sickles. The pony knocked Twilight to the ground and held a sickle to her neck. Twilight tried to gaze into the ponies eyes, as if to try and identify her assailant, but the shroud of darkness prevented eye contact. Though Postal Code, in any other situation, would have been one to avoid clichés, he screamed the only thing he could think of at the moment: "NO!!" Postal Code charged forward and collided head-first with the pony, knocking it away and giving Twilight just enough time to recover from shock. She couldn't believe it, but Twilight heard a voice: Harness the power of your light. It is the only way to defeat them. The voice was quite similar, if not identical, to the voice she had heard in her dream – ugh, just thinking about that nightmare gave her the creeps. The pony charged at Twilight again. Somehow, Twilight seemed to know what the "voice" meant by "harnessing the power of the light." Praying that she had the right idea, Twilight lowered her horn, aimed at the pony, and let off an enormous burst of light energy, The burst traveled straight forward and made direct contact with the unsuspecting assailant. The result was a massive flare of light. It was too bright to handle; Twilight and Postal Code had to avert their eyes for their vision's sake. After the light dissipated, there was nothing. No blood. No dust or ashes. No metal particles from the weapons. There were literally no traces of the pony's existence. Twilight's trying to figure out where the pony could have gone paralyzed her, but Postal Code felt differently. His jaw agape, he continued to stare towards the spot on the ground at which the darkness-covered pony was standing just moments ago. Eventually, he came to his senses and said, "Th-that...was...AWESOME!!" Twilight tried to ignore Postal Code's immature outburst, and she resolved to continue moving forward. "Come on, Postal Code, now's not the time to gawk! You need to show me where the manuscript pages ended up," she said. Realizing that he had once again done serious damage to Twilight's impression of him, Postal Code calmed himself down. He proceeded to follow Twilight as a strange shadow danced behind the trees, a small portion of its shape reflecting the faintest hint of teal.
Chapter 11: Selection The city of Baltimare, on the outside, appeared to be the epitome of utopian progress. The economy was booming, the buildings were state-of-the-art, and the streets were unimaginably tidy. Though it was not known to everyone, however, the city's image of a perfect society actually belied a crime ring so large and ruthless that even the entirety of the Canterlot Royal Guard would have a hard time suppressing it. But, perhaps, "rough" is an understatement. Anypony who happened to set foot alone into an alley or other remote location had a 96.7125138% chance of being mugged...or worse. It was the knowledge of this crime ring that kept most visitors out of Baltimare. It was the knowledge that could even drive a patrolling pegasus to flee in terror and deliver a falsified "all clear" message. This was why residents called Baltimare the greatest faҫade in Equestria's history. Yet, despite all this, Baltimare was Postal Code's birthplace, and the events occurring within this city would be what set his story in motion. *** "Yes! Only five more minutes until I'm finally free!" The teacher was still belaboring Equestrian History, trying to teach one final lesson, but Postal Code couldn't take his eyes off the clock. Just five minutes until he would no longer be a senior at William Hoofinger High School. Finally, after twelve long years, he would have a chance to rest. He would finally have the time to sleep in, or learn a musical instrument, or even practice sketching. However, one thing continued to haunt him: college. All of his fellow seniors had already applied and been accepted into their respective college choices, but Postal Code planned to take a year off and rest. His friends consistently reminded of him of his screwing himself over – the college application process was exponentially harder if not done during or immediately after high school – but postal Code felt that he deserved a chance to rest. Besides, he had a great resume, a stellar transcript, and even a bit of work experience under his metaphorical belt, so he doubted he would have a hard time even then. 3:00. The bell began to project its usual high-pitched ringing. Immediately following was a mass mob of students galloping though the hallway – had anypony tripped and fell, he or she would have been trampled in seconds. Postal Code joined the crowd as he pondered his schedule for the rest of the day. He quickly remembered what he had been wanting to do all day: meet with his friends and plan an end-of-school celebration. Halfway across the hallway, Postal Code noticed a young stallion with grey fur and a lime-green mane. The stallion appeared to be standing and staring at the wall – at the point, Postal Code already knew who it was. Postal Code called out: "Um, Question Mark? What the hay are you doing?" The stallion replied, "I'm standing here, staring at a wall." "May I ask why?" "What? Is there some law or something that says I can't stand around and stare at walls?" "Well, no, but–" "I rest my case." Ladies and gentlemen, meet Question Mark. He may have been one of Postal Code's childhood friends, but even to this day Postal Code still could not comprehend him. Question Mark's entire being – his personality, actions, etc. – were impossible to understand. His cutie mark could have been a last resort in figuring out something about him, but even that was useless; it was the number five atop a grey rhombus. But despite his incomprehensible nature, Question Mark was overflowing with charisma and easily got along with just about anypony. Changing the subject to something with actual relevance, Postal Code inquired, "Anyway, do you have any idea where the others are?" "Well, knowing Lionheart, he's probably saying goodbye to all of his teachers. Striped Saint probably forgot about us in his excitement to leave." "Hold on a second. Didn't I ask you to keep everyone together, because you all have classes in the same relative location?" "You did, but as you could see, I changed my mind about my responsibilities and decided to stare at this wall." "As always, you continue to baffle me. But that's besides the point. Do you think you'd be able to find Striped Saint if I go after Lionheart?" "Well, he is more exciting than this wall, so I'd say so." *** Lionheart may never have meant to do so, but he always led his friends into wild goose chases. Postal Code searched through the entire building with no luck, but that was before he remembered Lionheart's typical after-school location: the art rooms. Lionheart could sustain a conversation with his now-former art teacher for hours on end, so postal Code usually found him there. This time was no exception. After joining a lengthy and inspirational conversation with the red-furred, blue-maned, abnormally polite stallion and his former art teacher, Postal Code directed Lionheart to the front lobby so they could hopefully meet up with Question Mark and Striped Saint. "It's about time!" exclaimed a white pegasus with a jet-black mane containing a single orange stripe down the right side. "we've been sitting here for, like, thirty-five minutes!" The youngest of the four (while others were entering college, he was only completing his freshman year), Striped Saint tried his hardest to fit in with the group. Of course, his definition of "fitting in" seemed to include loud outbursts and spontaneous behaviour. Nopony seemed to mind, though. Well, everypony except for Question Mark. Striped Saint was the only pony with which Question Mark could not easily get along. Most of the time, they seemed rather close, but when they fought, not even Lionheart's exceptional personality could mediate the conflict. Usually, Postal Code had to intervene and make the two feel ashamed for quarreling over something that was most always nominal. Question Mark, agitated as always by Striped Saint's outburst, immediately responded, "Saint, it's not that big of a deal! It's the last day of high school for the two of them, so we can't blame them for wanting to say goodbye!" Postal Code foresaw a quarrel and intervened: "Guys, calm down! Are a few wasted minuted on a day in which we have nothing planned really worth fighting over??" The four were silent. Apparently, Postal Code successfully averted another potential conflict. Finally, Postal Code concluded, "Question Mark, I rest my case." After a few more minutes of random discussions, Striped Saint asked, "So...what are we doing about this whole celebration thing?" Postal Code hadn't actually thought of a good idea yet, so he dodged the question by asking the others what they felt like doing. None of the others knew either; they had hoped Postal Code thought of something. "Well, if no one has any ideas, then how about we just try heading around town until we find something we want to do?" Question Mark agreed but in addition replied, "Postal Code, just remember that you promised pie!" "I did? When was this?" "It was right after we defeated the tribe of evil, murderous pomegranates!" "Uh...are you sure you weren't dreaming at the time?" "I don't dream. I envision." Lionheart had been silent for most of the conversation, but upon hearing the conversation's frightfully off-topic direction, he interrupted and declared, "I believe it would be in everyone's best interest if we discontinued this conversation and began our exciting, albeit disorganized celebration." The others were shocked by Lionheart's statement. He usually didn't try to interrupt anything, but when he did, his voice always had the greatest impact. Without a word, the four left the building. *** Postal Code struggled to awake the next morning. From a pizza shop to a rowdy nightclub, the four had done nothing but waste money and barely avoid debauchery. Postal Code had seemed to forget most of the highlights of night other than his purchase of a glass of chocolate milk priced at 33 Bits and his leaving the establishment with his friends at around 4:20 A.M. He learned one thing from this experience: never go along with Question Mark's impulses. Postal Code then took the next forty-five minutes to recite his daily morning routine. Lionheart called three times during that interval: one while Postal Code was taking a shower, once while he was brushing his teeth, and once while he was eating a late breakfast. For most ponies, the recent invention of the telephone had become a crucial tool for communication. Postal Code, on the other hoof, found it rather trying, largely due to Lionheart's egregious timing. Postal Code called back as soon as he was sure he had nothing more significant to do. The conversation went as follows: "Hey, Postal Code, I was wondering..." "What about?" "Well, do you think you we could all meet up again and go do something?" "Any particular reason why? I mean, we did just spend a little too much time out and about last night." "Postal Code, you and I both know that dumb nightclubs like that are nowhere near my definition of 'fun.' I'd prefer something more civilized, like an art gallery!" "Same here, but good luck convincing the others with that idea!" "I'm sure if we talk it out again, we'll think of something." "Okay, I guess you win. But you're going to have to get Striped Saint; I can't seem to remember his number." "Great, I say we meet up outside the Library. See you there!" *** When Postal Code and Question Mark arrived at the rendezvous determined by Lionheart, Striped Saint greeted them not with a hello, but with a string of complaints. "Can we hurry up and do something already? I think I can actually taste the boredom seeping from that old building behind us!" "That old building," Lionheart retorted, "You mean the Library? Our vast wealth of knowledge, which nopony could live without?" Striped Saint acquired a more defensive tone. "No, you mean the boring way out of a problem!" Nopony really understood the logic behind Striped Saint's claim, but Question Mark felt some sort of significance in going against the pegasus whom he felt to be his rival. "How could you possibly diss the library?? It might not be that leather toaster-cozy I've always wanted, but it's pretty darn important!" After this, an actual argument broke out between the three of them, making it one of the few times Lionheart even entered an argument. Luckily, Postal Code realized how pointless the quarrel really was, so he attempted to once again mediate his friends' conflict. Unfortunately, nopony paid attention to poor Postal Code, for the argument, regardless of its insignificance, had become a seemingly major issue. Postal Code steadily grew in anger until he finally snapped, bellowing an exceptionally loud, obtrusive... "OBJECTION!" Everypony went silent. Eventually, one of them asked, "Um...Postal Code, what are you objecting to?" Postal Code paused for a moment and said, "I, um, didn't object to anything; I was just trying to get your attention! This really isn't worth fighting over! Besides, we were going to go do something, so we need to stop wasting our time!" *** Not too long later, the four resolved their conflict and proceeded to wander the streets of Baltimare. Their plan of action consisted mainly of activities from their previous excursion (minus the nightclub, of course). They stopped at a restaurant at some point, but most of their time was spent visiting any kind of store that caught any of their eyes. Normally, none of them would be doing such a thing, but they had been bored out of their minds for the past few days and needed anything at all to do. While they tried to resolve to avoid buying anything on account of the squandering of their money the night before, Lionheart eventually ended up purchasing a clearance hat. In his defense, he stated that there was supposed to be a large storm later that night, and he had forgotten to bring some form of cover. Plus, he didn't see the point in going to so many stores without ever spending a bit. In time, Lionheart's statements were proven valid. As the four began their trips to their respective homes (coincidentally, they all lived in the same relative area), an enormous storm brewed overhead. A massive torrent of rain began to fall; streets nearly flooded as it halted most outdoor activity within the city. As the rain fell, Lionheart was glad to have made the purchase; the hat kept his head relatively dry. Unfortunately, he was not expecting a powerful gale to follow. The wind blew his hat clean off his head, resulting in its landing in a very suspicious-looking alley. As previously mentioned, there was a reason nopony would enter the alleys. Any other pony would have run away and realized how worthless the hat was. But Lionheart was not any other pony. He mustered up enough courage to begin to walk into the alley, but his friends stopped him. Striped Saint reminded him of the consequences of his decision. Postal Code assured him he could easily purchase another hat. But Lionheart believed in himself; he believed that he would be fine so long as he hurried in, grabbed the hat, and sprinted out. Even so, Postal Code still would not allow him to enter alone. This in turn led to the four's entering together. As planned, they entered and grabbed the hat. They then proceeded to leave. If only it were that simple. At the last possible instant, a stallion, some sort of criminal, leapt from the shadows, drew a knife, and plunged it into Lionheart's back. Lionheart, somehow not at all phased by the attack, put up a struggle, but the criminal removed the knife, dodged around to the other side, and stabbed again, this time into Lionheart's chest. The other three had been frozen in shock during this time, but Postal Code quickly recovered and, forgetting the danger he faced, tackled the assailant. The knife remained planted in Lionheart's chest. Question Mark was the second to recover, and he tried to assist Postal Code in subduing the criminal. Striped Saint spread his wings and took off in search of the Police. In a not-so-shocking turn of events, the criminal countered and proceeded to land a series of hits on Postal Code and Question Mark, incapacitating both of them. Seemingly assured of his victory, he once again removed the knife from Lionheart and closed in on the other two. "I wonder which one of you I should kill next," he snorted. None of them tried to continue fighting, so he squatted down next to Postal Code and pressed the bloody knife to his neck. "How 'bout you? You look like you're ready to die–" He flew forwards and landed head-first on the ground, falling unconscious upon impact. A portion of his back had caught fire. Postal Code observed the spectacle and realized that something of that nature, to have come so suddenly, could have only been the work of a unicorn's magic. Strength fading, he turned his head to see Lionheart struggling to get up, his horn still glowing with a violet aura. His struggle was no use, however, for he couldn't prevail against a creeping unconsciousness. Postal Code began to grow weaker and followed suit. *** Postal Code awoke inside Baltimare's general hospital. He was being treated for minor cuts and bruises (his unconscious state led the paramedics to believe he was in a worse condition), but his injuries were of no interest to him. He only wanted to know of his friends' fates. Postal Code soon learned from a doctor that Question Mark, who had been undergoing treatment for similar injuries, had made a full recovery and was to be discharged the next day, but Lionheart... Lionheart was dead. He died from a loss of blood on the way to the hospital. To make matters worse, the criminal, somehow, managed to escape... *** That was as much as he needed to see. Clearly, Postal Code had suffered enough trauma in his lifetime; it seemed his psyche could potentially be broken without strife. It was now clear: Postal Code would be the perfect candidate.
Chapter 1: Is This a Prank? The lavender unicorn stopped to think for a moment, to try and make sense of the situation. It just seemed so odd – since when is it common to find somepony you don't remember seeking you out? Especially to give you a stack of old, type-written papers. The unicorn probably should have just thrown out the papers - after all, it was most likely some sort of prank. But if it was a prank, it was a very elaborate one, and that stallion surely wasn't from Ponyville. Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash don't really have that many connections outside of town, so it was pretty hard to believe he would be a friend of theirs, or something. And who else would manifest a prank as elaborate as this? And how exactly would these papers fit in with it? Mind racing, the unicorn tried to relax, but to no avail. Curiosity had gotten the better of her. She surely didn't know what these papers were, but could anyone else? Maybe Princess Celestia would know, but it seemed like too small a subject to bring up. Hold on a second. Why didn't she just read the papers and see if she could figure it out then? Honestly, she had no common sense. The unicorn examined the partially crumpled page at the top of the stack. Nothing much, just a title page. DEPARTURE BY ALAN WAKE
Chapter 2: Special Delivery "Hey, uh, would you happen to be Twilight Sparkle?" "Why, yes. Um...do I know you?" "Probably not. I'm not from around here. Wait, you're not either." "What?" "You went to the Canterlot Academy, right?" "Yes, why?" "That's actually where I just came from. You probably don't remember me; I usually spent most of my time in the science lab." "Oh, you were the one that was so fascinated with that computer?" "Yeah, that's me. You know, I'm really starting to envy those 'humans.' I hear they have tons of computers in their world!" "Personally, I just want to know how they got a hold of something from another dimension!" "Yeah, but I guess there's a reason why they won't tell us." "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, but I can't seem to remember your name." "No problem. My name's Postal Code." "You see, now I remember you – I'm sorry, I feel like it was so rude to forget." "Like I said, it's no problem...oh, crap, I almost forgot." "What's wrong?" "We've been catching up for so long that I forgot to give you these." "Um...what are they?" "I'm not really sure. I just found these sitting next to the computer one day. I asked around, see if, like, someone lost them or something, but no one knew." "So, then, why did you come all this way just to deliver them to me?" "When I was asking around, a few ponies said something like, 'Go see Twilight Sparkle about that. She should know.' It's a good thing they told me you were here, or else I probably would have never found you." "But, I never told anyone I was leaving. Well, besides my parents, of course." "Apparently, studying abroad is a big thing there. Word travels fast. I mean, it's not every day somepony gets to trade classes for a chance to study 'the magic of friendship.'" "Yeah, I guess you're right." "Well, I should probably be heading back. You wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get Princess Celestia to let me come here." "Uh...okay, then. Thanks for the, uh, papers?" Now what the heck am I going to do with these?
Chapter 7: Thought Process The events of the previous four days reiterated constantly in Postal Code's mind. Although everything seemed to have commenced without any real problems, he just couldn't help but think that he had left a bad impression on Twilight Sparkle. After all, he had just appeared to her out of nowhere – in a very stalker-like manner, too – only to give her the manuscript pages while claiming he didn't know what they were. Not only did that make him look incompetent, but it made him look like he was too lazy to even read them. If he was ever to ask her to the prom, he simply couldn't be branded by tags like those. Remembering the work he had to make up because of his excursion to Ponyville, Postal Code quelled his slight paranoia with, "Oh well, she probably won't be coming back to Canterlot Academy any time soon, so I really shouldn't worry about what she thinks of me." Besides, he had more important things to do – like finish his work so he could get back to Colt Icarus: Uprising, or Stable III, or even Manecraft. Ever easily distracted, however, Postal Code's mind drifted away from his essay on Equestrian literature and returned to worrying about his impression on Twilight. The worst part about it was that he really had been too lazy to read the manuscript pages; he never once looked past the title page. That certainly wouldn't fare well with somepony who absolutely adores reading. Because he couldn't retrieve his previous attention to his essay, Postal Code left his desk and glanced out the window, just in time to see a lavender-colored unicorn carrying a stack of type-written papers pass by.
