Darkness. A pitch black coloring of the air around you without any distinguishable objects to make out. That’s all you can see. Confusion grips your mind as you struggle to recollect your last memory. You remember having dinner, then watching some television and various other activities before retiring to bed.
You attempt to move your head around and, after a brief moment of immobility that you find more than a little odd, you raise your head up to look around. The only thing you can make out in the darkness is the brightly illuminated outline of a doorway a few feet in front of you. Your curiosity as to where you are heightens, and you attempt to stand up to go through it, only for your legs to act unresponsive.
With a low growl, you force your legs to move and stand you up. After taking a moment to stretch your legs you attempt to do the same with your arms, only to find that they too are unresponsive to your brain’s signals. A little willpower, however, is all it takes to get them moving, and you begin heading toward the doorway.
Your movement, however, is once again impeded, this time by tripping over something in the darkness and face planting onto the floor. You sustain little more injury than a bruised eye, however, and quickly stand up before reaching the door. You reach a hand up for the doorknob, but to your confusion instead find a depression in the door made out of cold metal. Pushing it in makes an unlocking sound and the door opens easily enough at your hand’s touch.
You step outside to find yourself in a brightly lit hallway with ceramic tiles in a diamond pattern and a wall with a plain green paintjob. The way to your right leads to a dead end, while the other way passes by a couple more doors until eventually coming to a three way intersection. Now that you know where to go for answers, you turn back around to the room you exited from to see where you were put. Your eyes widen in shock at what you see laying on the floor of the room, which looks to be a storage closet.
Bodies.
Human bodies, specifically. They’re all sprawled across the floor haphazardly, with arms and legs from multiple bodies tangled together like fishing line while heads stare lifelessly up at the ceiling or facedown at the floor. After staring at the horrifying scene for a few moments, you begin to recognize some of the bodies. Your mother and father are stacked atop each other in one corner while some of your closest friends are piled along the opposite wall in a tangled heap.
None of them move. None of them breathe. They’re just lifeless sacks of meat.
It’s too much for you to handle. You stagger back against the wall behind you and let out the loudest scream you’ve ever given in your entire life. It’s so loud that it muffles the sound of the next door over from the storage closet opening and the emergence of two figures.
“What’s happening!?” one shouts.
“Iron Will demands to know what the problem is!” the other follows.
The end of your screaming is followed by deep, ragged breaths as your oxygen has run out. Slowly, you turn to the figures, and almost faint at the sight of Iron Will and Lyra Heartstrings, both of whom stare back at you with their eyes wide and jaws agape. The idea of seeing a couple of characters from your favorite television show in the flesh is awesome, but seeing your friends and family dead nullifies it and leaves you a crying, blubbering mess against the wall.
Finally, Lyra manages to close her jaw and asks, in a tone that’s clearly trying to be comforting but failing miserably, “Could you wait here for a moment, please?”
Your unresponsiveness is all the answer she needs, and the mint green mare quickly drags the muscular minotaur, who’s still utterly stupefied, back into the room which they emerged from.
Immediately, you can hear the soft sounds of conversation emerging from the room, but you can’t be bothered to listen in on anything they’re saying. Your mind is a jumbled mess of questions, sorrow, and fear for your own life as you struggle to process everything that’s happened and happening while waiting for them to return. The thought that Lyra and Iron Will are somehow responsible for your loved ones' deaths doesn’t once cross your mind, though you can’t help but feel that they know something about the whole situation you’ve found yourself in. You decide to ask them what’s happening as soon as they return, assuming they don’t tell you themselves.
Eventually, the pony and the minotaur exit the room, both looking rather sheepish. Lyra steps forward and says, “There’s something we need to show you.”
“I want to know what’s going on, right now!” you shout, tears streaming down your cheeks.
The unicorn folds her ears back out of reflex. “I’m sorry if this all comes as a huge surprise to you," she says, "but it’s quite a big one for us as well.”
“Iron Will declares that to be an understatement,” the minotaur says half-sarcastically.
Lyra briefs a furrowed gaze to him before sighing and turning back to you. “Look, we can answer at least some of your questions, but for the most part we’re unsure what’s going on.”
You take a moment to wipe away the tears before asking, “Why’s that?”
Iron Will points over his shoulder into the room which he and Lyra emerged from. “Come inside and you’ll see.”
Nodding, you get to your feet and begin walking toward the door, but Lyra stops you halfway there and says, “Just a fair bit of warning, though; you might go into a deep depression after seeing what we have to show you.”
You can only tilt your head in confusion as Lyra heads forward into the room, followed by Iron Will and yourself shortly thereafter. The room consists of two shelves on either side, both lined with rows of crystals, and a giant crystal sitting on a wooden desk directly opposite from the door. While some of the crystals are entirely plain, most have faint, multi-colored swirls in them, including the giant one.
“What is all this?” you ask.
“Our editing room,” Lyra responds.
“. . . Editing room?”
Iron Will sighs and gently pushes you into the chair sitting at the desk. “Go ahead, Lyra,” he says to her.
With a nod of understanding, the mint green unicorn charges up her horn. A second later, the giant crystal’s rainbow swirls begin reforming into a new, more definitive shape. As you watch, a sense of familiarity washes over you upon seeing the image taking shape. This sense of familiarity changes to surprise upon realizing the image displayed in the crystal is of last night’s dinner with you and your family.
“What’s this all about?” you ask, turning to Lyra.
The mint green unicorn doesn’t reply, instead merely pursing her lips.
After a moment of staring blankly at her you turn to Iron Will, to which the minotaur gestures to the crystal with his hand. You return your attention to the crystal and continue watching the events of last night play out. Have you been under surveillance by Equestria? If so, for how long and why? But then why are you in Equestria now? Also, why are your friends and family dead in the next room over? All these questions and more swim through your mind as you sit and watch the crystal’s image.
After a while it switches from the scene of last night’s dinner to you watching television; specifically, a certain cartoon about talking equines that you obsess over, two characters of which are currently accompanying you. After a few minutes of watching the metaphysical paradox the scene finally switches to you getting ready for and falling asleep in bed. After that, the image dissolves back into the swirling multicolored mass it was previously.
“So . . . what?” you ask, still confused. “What’s this supposed to mean? That you’ve been spying on me?”
Lyra purses her lips again. You can tell she’s hesitant to say something important, but your patience isn’t very strong so you turn to Iron Will who only holds his hands up defensively. Frustrated, and still devastated as a result of seeing your loved ones dead in the storage closet, you slam the desk in front of you and shout, “TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON, RIGHT NOW!”
Your sudden outburst frightens both Lyra and Iron Will, and it takes them a few moments to recover from the shock before Lyra puts a hoof over your shoulder in another attempt to be comforting, but it isn’t much better than her previous attempt.
“I don’t know if telling you this is a good idea, but my mom always said lying never paid off,” she says, her tone fairly soothing. She takes a look around the room at all the crystals before retraining her eyes onto you and continuing. “To put it simply, you’re a fictional character in a show created by us for entertainment purposes.” She gestures to the giant crystal. “Those scenes were the last ones we filmed today before closing up shop. Since then, Iron Will and I have been editing the next episode of the show, which is called HUMAN, together.”
". . ."
". . ."
". . ."
A slight giggle escapes your lips. That giggle grows into a soft chuckle, which then morphs into a regular laugh, which immediately evolves into a mad cackle as you bury your head into your arms and pound on the desk, as if in response to a really good joke.
“Iron Will doesn’t know why you laugh like so,” you hear the minotaur say. “After all, she wasn’t joking.”
You continue your laughing tirade for several more minutes, all the while they both stare at you with concerned expressions. Eventually you recompose yourself and, after wiping a couple of tears from your eyes, throw your hands up in the air.
“This is so awesome!” you shout happily.
A brief pause, followed by Iron Will saying, “Iron Will is confused.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier!” A slightly manic smile spreads across your lips. “Aside from my parents and friends being dead, this is the greatest dream ever!”
“Whoa there,” Lyra says, using her magic to bring your arms down to your sides. “This isn’t a dre-”
The mint green unicorn is cut off by Iron Will’s hand clasping over her muzzle. She levels a furrowed gaze at him, but the minotaur ignores it and whispers something in her ear, after which she turns away from him and back to you.
“Yep, that’s right, this is all a dream,” she says with a fake smile. “How about we go meet with some other ponies? Princess Twilight maybe? Please?” The last part she adds rather hastily, earning a stern glare from Iron Will.
“Heck yeah!” you shout. “Oh wait . . .”
The two of them look on in confusion as you clamber up onto the desk. Crouching low, you prepare to launch through the roof and soar over the land of your obsession.
“Whoo-hoo!” you shout as you leap off the table with your arm outstretched . . .
. . . and bang your head on the ceiling.
“. . . . . . . . . Iron . . . . . . . . . two . . . . . .”
“More . . . . . . brought . . . . . . .Take . . . look.”
“That’s . . . just . . . human . . . puppet.”
“Ungh,” you groan, clutching your aching head. “Where am I?”
“What the heck!?”
You wince in response to the loud exclamation. “Ow.”
“Iron Will prefers his eardrums to be intact and fully-functional.”
“Ditto.”
You recognize these voices as belonging to Iron Will and Lyra, respectively. As your vision begins to focus, you realize a couple of things. One, you’re slung over the minotaur’s shoulder like a sack, and two, that Twilight Sparkle, alicorn body and all, is staring slack-jawed up at you from the ground in front of him. Your eyes wander upwards to behold sight of the crystal tree castle that was introduced in the season four finale. The voice of its lavender inhabitant, however, pulls your attention away from it and onto her.
“Alright, alright, you two got me.” Twilight laughs heartily. “Great joke guys; I don't know why I didn't see it coming.”
“This isn’t a joke, your highness,” Lyra says as she steps forward and into your line of sight. “See my horn? I’m not controlling its movements, and even if I was that doesn’t explain the voice.”
Twilight stares blankly at Lyra for a moment before shifting her attention back to you. You both lock gazes with each other and stare intently for a good solid minute. Scrutinizing each other. Checking for fallacies in each other’s behavior that would indicate the other is a forgery of some kind. Eventually, you both come to the same conclusion that no tricks are at play, and while Twilight is content to merely have her legs give out and fall to the ground in shocked silence, you begin hyperventilating like mad.
“This isn’t really happening!” you wheeze between breaths. “This is all just a dream! It has to be!”
“I’m sorry to say this, but . . .” Lyra trails off as she realizes continuing with her statement won’t help matters and she turns back to Twilight. “Can we come inside?"
Twilight snaps from her stupor. “Sure, sure, right this way.” She steps aside and gestures inside with a wing, to which Lyra and Iron Will head inside along with you, followed afterward by the lavender princess herself. She continues staring at you with a curious, though no less shocked gaze, as you all enter the castle’s living room where a couch, some armchairs, and a coffee table are all placed about. Twilight rests on a chair beside a window which the light of Celestia’s sun shines through while Lyra and Iron Will sit on the couch. The muscular minotaur sits you on his lap with his arms wrapped around you, no doubt to hold you down in case you panic and try to escape.
An uncomfortable silence descends upon everyone as Twilight continues staring at you while Lyra and Iron Will stare at her. You, on the other hand, look crestfallen as you stare down at the floor. It only just barely registers in your mind when Twilight finally speaks up, and even then you continue staring downward, pondering the full implications of everything you’ve learned thus far.
“Alright, I want both of you to be straightforward about this,” the lavender alicorn tells Lyra and Iron Will. The two of them nod in understanding, and Twilight continues with, “How much do you know about what’s happening?”
“Little more than you do, your highness,” Lyra replies sincerely, which Iron Will backs up with another nod of his head. “To our knowledge, we were the only two in the recording studio at the time we found,” she gestures to you with a hoof, “somehow alive and freaked out by all the other flesh puppets being . . . um, you know.”
Twilight stares blankly for a moment before realization dawns on her and she mouths an ‘o’ in understanding.
“We don’t know how this happened,” Iron Will states, looking down at you in concern mixed with pity, “or even how it could have happened.”
Twilight rubs her chin as she ponders a possible answer to the question. After a few moments of silent contemplation she teleports out of the room, returning a minute later with a book in her grasp. Its cover is dark blue and titled Level A Spells: The Official Guidebook in silver text. She opens the book and flips through to a section near the middle. Finding her desired page, she begins reading the selected passage to you and the others.
“The Animate Spell. Invented by the famed Starswirl the Bearded, this spell boasts the effect to grant any inanimate object it’s used upon some degree of sapience. Exactly what level of sapience is bestowed depends on the object in question, but regardless, any object affected by the Animate Spell will exhibit self-awareness, intelligence and, in special cases of personified objects such as dolls or puppets, emotion.”
Twilight closes the book and sets it down on the coffee table. She then rests her hooves under her chin and looks down with a hardened expression, clearly deep in thought.
“So, you think somepony cast this spell and brought one of our human flesh puppets to life?” Lyra asks, incredulous. “Gee, why’d you even bother hiring those unicorn puppeteers if we could make the puppets act on their own?”
“There’s two reasons for that,” Twilight replies. “The first reason why is because the Animate Spell only lasts for a day’s time and takes a lot of magic to cast just once. Trying to simultaneously cast it on many objects is a futile endeavor for anypony.”
"What's the second reason?" Iron Will asks.
“The second reason is sitting right in your lap, Iron Will,” she continues, shifting attention to you. “As you both can clearly see, being told you’re just a fictional character in a show doesn’t bode well for a person’s, real or otherwise, psyche.”
“But you said it yourself,” Lyra says, perking up a bit, “this’ll only last a day, right?”
Twilight nods. “That is true; once twenty four hours have passed they’ll be just a puppet once again.” She levels a furrowed gaze to the floor. “Who could’ve done this, anyway?”
“Iron Will doesn’t know, your highness, and neither does Lyra,” Iron Will says. He loosens his grip on you a bit, but you’re so spaced out that doing so only causes you to slump forward, which the minotaur quickly rectifies. “But what should we do with our, um . . . guest?”
Twilight looks up to you at the same time you snap from your stupor and look to her, afraid for what they might decide to do to you. You see a lot of things in her brilliant, lavender eyes: compassion, care, and concern to name a few. You don’t know what she might be seeing in yours, but if she was reading you right she'd see: fear, confusion, joy, and curiosity.
“Well,” Twilight finally says after a short, uncomfortable silence, “I guess it’s only fair to let them choose what they want to do.” She smiles wistfully. “I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling right now, knowing your favorite television show is actually the source of conception for your entire world and the lives of everyone in it, but surely you’re at least partially excited to see Equestria firsthoof, or, I guess firsthand in your case?”
She gets up and trots around the coffee table to you, never once letting up on her smile, which only grows more heartfelt and comforting the closer she gets to you. Upon reaching you she uses a wing to gently stroke your cheek, to which you feel it instantly warm in response.
“I’m sorry you’ve come to learn your entire life is a sham,” she says solemnly, still not letting up on her smile, “but I promise I’ll make every minute of your time here enjoyable.”
Lyra and Iron Will look to you in curiosity as you begin thinking about Twilight’s offer. You have so many questions you’d like to ask the lavender princess, not the least of which being the specifics behind humanity’s creation. At the same time, however, you’re in Equestria; the land you’ve always wanted to see in person. There’s so many ponies you’ve always wanted to meet and do various things with that it seems like a waste to spend the next day asking questions which won’t matter after you’ve been turned back into a puppet.
After thinking it over for a while you look up to Twilight and say, “I’d rather see Equestria.”
“I figured as much,” Twilight replies, her smile falling partway into a smirk. “So, what do you want to do first?”
