Iponi's World

Chapters

Pony Fever
The Plot Device
Iponi's Curse
There Goes Humanity
Sorry
Now What?
Iponi's Word

Pony Fever

“Good morning, my little ponies.” Cheerilee clapped her hooves and put on the warmest, fuzziest smile she could manage. “Have all of you filled out your permission slips like good little students?”

“Yes, Miss. Cheerilee,” the assembled fillies and colts said. Her classroom was normally packed with active little minds and eager eyes, but today many seats were empty. A dreadful virus known as pony fever had been going around and several of her students were out sick.

“Achoo!” Apple Bloom sneezed. Other ponies shuffled away from her.

“Apple Bloom, are you feeling all right?” Cheerilee asked. She walked down the front row, gathering the permission slips that had been passed forward.

“Um, Ah'm fime.” Apple Bloom blinked and rubbed at her nose. A thin string of filly snot trailed off on her hoof. “Or I wath thid morning.” She groaned and flopped her head on the desk.

Cheerilee stepped over and patted the bow on Apple Bloom's neck. “I'm sorry that you're not feeling well. It's terrible timing, I know, but I'm going to have to ask that you go home and get some rest.”

“What? But Ah wanted to thee tha humans.” The yellow filly sat up straight and put on a smile. “I don't feel that bad. Ah'm sure I'll be okay.”

Cheerilee left Apple Bloom's side and tapped on the blackboard. Biting a piece of chalk, she scribbled as she talked. “I know we talked about this yesterday, but I need to repeat myself because it's important. The human world we're visiting has no native magic. However, all ponies are magical beings. In order to preserve the natural balance, we'll be transformed into humans for the duration of our visit. Unfortunately, many of our diseases are also magical in nature and can't be cured via transformation magic. In fact, attempting to do so is a good way of making them communicable to other species. There's no telling what would happen if our illnesses were allowed to spread to magicless victims. I'm sorry, Apple Bloom, but it's just not safe for you to visit there right now.”

“Aw.” Apple Bloom folded her forelegs on the desk and flopped her head down. She sneezed again and sniffled.

“Apple Bloom? More like Apple Blows.” Diamond Tiara snickered. “You'd better make like a tree and leaf before you get anypony else sick.”

“I always knew you were a sick little pony inside,” Silver Spoon added. “Now everypony else knows it too.”

“Be nice, you two,” Cheerilee admonished. “Apple Bloom's not the only one who's sick. In fact, if anypony else starts to feel ill, we'll have to cancel the field trip altogether.”

“What? No!” Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon both zipped away and donned surgical masks. They huddled in a corner together.

“So, in light of that, you really do have to leave, Apple Bloom. Sorry, but there will be other field trips for you to enjoy.” Cheerilee opened the door wide and gave Apple Bloom a stern gaze. Her decision was final, and there would be no more dallying.

Apple Bloom got up and groaned. “Yeah, but not to tha human world,” she mumbled. “And I really wanted to go.”

“Cheer up, Apple Bloom.” Sweetie Belle gave Apple Bloom a warm smile as she shambled past. “We'll tell you all about the amazing fun time we had when get back.”

“Yeah, it's going to be totally sweet!” Scootaloo added. “Oh. And we'll bring back an awesome souvenir for you too.”

Cheerilee frowned. “Scootaloo, they don't accept bits in the human world. You won't be able to buy anything.”

“Oh, well, in that case, maybe a cool stick or something?” Scootaloo shrugged.

“Uh, thanks, Ah thidk.” Apple Bloom sniffled and rubbed her runny nose again as she left the classroom. The door snapped shut behind her. Sitting down and staring up at the sun, Apple Bloom groaned, “It's just not fair. The contrived plot device is only open for three days every thirty moons. This was my only chance to go!”

If she was expecting sympathy, she wasn't going to get any. Back in the classroom, Cheerilee's voice rang out, “Scootaloo! This is a parental permission slip. You can't get Rainbow Dash to sign this.”

“What? But Apple Bloom got her sister to sign hers.”

“That's because Apple Bloom doesn't have parents. I can't let you go unless you run back home and—”

Apple Bloom fought back her growing haze of misery and forced herself to walk away. Her illness was bad enough; she didn't want to get knocked over when Scootaloo ran out to get her form re-signed. Had her head not been so clouded, she might have poked fun at Scootaloo's mistake. As it was, she kicked a pebble and watched it bounce down the dusty, dirt road.

“Ah hate being sick,” Apple Bloom muttered. The dustiness caught in her nose, further irritating it. She tried to suppress the oncoming sneeze, but it did no good. “Ah-ah-achoo!” Her tiny body shook with the force of a backfiring engine. Groaning, she climbed up on a park bench and melted over is surface.

While Apple Bloom was staring at a bent nail, wondering if the laws of physics that had violated it were the same ones that made her head hurt just as much, two ponies casually walked up. Both of them were too engrossed in their conversation to notice the abject little filly who was attempting to repaint the bench with her own body.

“So, I was all like, 'pull my finger,' and you were like, 'ugh, no, face-hand!' Get it? Because we had hands and not hooves and—”

“Lyra—” Lemon Drops groaned and smacked her mint-colored unicorn friend on the shoulder “—that wasn't funny. Who the hay goes to the human world just to make fart jokes?”

“Lemmy, that was only for, like, five minutes. We did tons of other stuff, remember?”

“Yeah—tons of other stuff that got cut short because I had to haul your bloated ass out of there.”

Lyra snorted. She reared up and pointed a hoof at her yellow friend human-style. “That was totally not my fault! How was I supposed to know that my human form was going to be potted plant intolerant?”

Lemon Drops rolled her right eye. Her left was hidden under an eye patch. “You wouldn't have had to find that out if you'd stuck to the field rations they gave us.”

“Yuck—alfalfa pellets and water? I hate that stuff as an equine. What do they think we are? Hamsters?”

Lemon Drops tapped on her fuzzy chin, then shrugged pony-style. “Hamsters... Humans... You know, they probably did mess that up. It wouldn't surprise me.”

Apple Bloom groaned and buried her head under her hooves. “Would you thoo keep it dowb? Ah'm tryin' to be miserable here.” Unintentionally adding emphasis, she let out a sudden weapons-grade sneeze that slid her whole body back. A plume of runny snot splattered on the bench in front of her.

Both unicorns jumped back. Lemon Drops backpedaled further. “Yikes! Is that another sick pony? Uh, sorry, yellow filly. I do hope you feel better but, uh, I really don't want to catch that so... bye!” She waved briefly before turning tail and trotting off.

Lyra raised an eyebrow and scrunched her face, creating fuzzy ridges between her eyes. “Pah, scardy-cat.”

“Oooh, sorry Ah scareb yer fwiend off,” the pile misery said.

“Eh, don't mind her.” Lyra's flank went squick as she flopped on the bench and sat in the snot puddle. “She's fine to hang out with and all, but she has no sense of adventure.”

“Eww,” Apple Bloom winced at the sight of the gooey liquid soaking into Lyra's mint-colored fur. “Arn'cha worried 'bout gettin' sick?”

“Meh. Bon Bon's been ill for the past few days. If I was going to catch it, I would have by now. Say, I know a spell that can make you feel better, but if I lower your fever you'll probably stay sick longer.”

“Pwease?” Apple Bloom looked up at her with wide, puppy-dog eyes.

“Aw, you don't have to ask me twice.” Lyra squinted and puffed out her cheeks which flushed slightly from the strain. Her magic sparked, then waned. She grunted and tried harder. Flaring, the lemony aura on her horn flashed and doubled, forming a second layer. A matching light washed over Apple Bloom, who immediately perked up. Lyra panted and wiped her brow. She lolled her tongue out human-like. “Whew. That was harder than I expected. I guess I still haven't recovered yet from that emergency potted plant extraction.”

Apple Bloom sat up and stretched like a cat. She shook herself and smacked her little pony lips. “Hey, thanks. Ah feel sooo much better now.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, because when that spell wears off, you'll fee like you're waffle batter being smothered in an iron.”

“Aww.” Apple Bloom sat down and curled her fluffy red tail around her legs. She drooped her head down and frowned.

Reaching out and wrapping a hoof around Apple Bloom's back, Lyra gave the filly a friendly hug. “Yeah, being sick is no fun for anyone. I recommend that you head home and get plenty of rest. Feeling better or not, you're still sick and should take it easy until you make a full recovery.”

“Well, okay, but I still wish Ah could have gone to see the humans.” Apple Bloom looked into Lyra's golden eyes. “Say, you went to the human world, right? Can ya tell me what it's like?”

“Only the most awesome thing, ever!” Lyra hopped off the bench and did a giddy little dance. “You would not believe the—well, the everything! They've got hands and feet and those cute petite noses and those weird blobs on their chests and all of the arms! Actual arms and being able to—”

“Uh, Lyra?”

“—so many weird things with their faces. Plus, standing upright all the time makes everything look so short! They look so good in clothes and don't have to wear saddles and—”

“Lyra?”

“—all those guys kept staring at me when I explored my body. Heh, you should have seen how red their faces got when I started jumping up and down. They've got elbows and such all their joints bend a bit differently. The make the weirdest noises too, especially when you start taking your clothes off. Speaking of noises, humans can't make equine sounds very well so that's why they give us those writing pads. I shared mine with the locals and they filled it up with seven digit numbers. Weird, huh? Anyway, I was up to my withers in—”

“Lyra!” Apple Bloom's shout caused the wildly gesticulating pony to stop bouncing mid-air. “I already know about the human body and stuff. Cheerilee lectured on that all week. Ah want to know what their world is like.”

Lyra didn't look the least bit upset about having her ramblings cut short. If anything, her grin got even wider. She walked over and lightly rubbed a hoof on Apple Bloom's noggin. “Apple Bloom, there's a huge difference between reading about humans in a book and walking around as one. It's something that you just have to experience for yourself or you'll regret it forever and ever and ever.”

Apple Bloom slunk down. She pushed aside Lyra's hoof and straightened out her ruffled mane. “Yer not making me feel any better about being left out,” she grumbled.

“Oh. Sorry.” Lyra shrugged and stepped back to draw in the air with her magic. “But if you want to know about the world, then you're going to be even more envious, because everything about it is amazing!”

The image she created looked something like an enclosed marketplace, where a larger building held dozens of stores in a tightly-packed arrangement. The architecture favored bright, colored lights, huge glass windows, and fountains in the central isle. Scores of humans bustled about the place carrying many, many, bags full of goods.

Yelping, Lyra lost her concentration and her magic spazzed out. The image vanished abruptly.

Despite herself, Apple Bloom's jaw hung open. “Wow, that's even fancier than the big city! What was all that stuff?”

“Uh, well, we don't know exactly since we don't have the local currency and can't exactly speak their language to barter with them, but I did get something cool when I visited.” Lyra stopped bouncing for a moment to rummage in her saddlebags and pulled out a long, thick, glossy, pink, cylindrical thing that had a bulb at one end and was covered in little, round bumps. “Check it out—it even vibrates when I hold this button down!” The two warm, fuzzy ponies stared at the weird human thing as it made a buzzing noise under the pressure of Lyra's telekinesis.

“That is pretty neat, uh, Ah guess. Any idea what it's for?”

“No idea, but one of the humans gave it me and because of that I'll treasure it forever!” Lyra smiled as she stuffed it back in her bag, humming a tune to herself.

Apple Bloom blinked as she watched Lyra stash the mysterious item. “Huh, that is pretty weird. Do ya think the humans have anything else?”

“What, are you kidding? The human world has everything! Clothes, toys, books—not that we can read those, lawn ornaments, glowing light things, glass figurines, those little umbrellas that you put in drinks, giant machines, whistles, green paper stuff, potted plants—seriously, don't eat those, and whatever else you can think of the humans have it.”

“Everything?” Apple Bloom's eyes widened. She tapped a hoof on her fuzzy chin, scrunching up her face in little pony thought. “Do you think they have a cure for pony fever?”

Lyra frowned. “Uh... no. Look, I know being sick isn't fun and all, but you can't expect them to have a cure for something that doesn't even exist in their world. Besides, it's best to avoid eating anything when you're there, anyway. If somehuman decides to offer you a big cup-shaped red flower that comes in a pot, don't eat it. Seriously, just... don't.”

“Yeah...” Apple Bloom rubbed at the leftover damp spot on the bench.

“Hey, you know what else they have? Red dot sticks!” Lyra squealed and did a little hop. “Uh, they probably call them something else, but they have little metal rods that make these little red dots that are so much fun to chase around! It's too bad Lemmy pointed the thing at her her eye and then broke it in a hissy-fit. I don't see why she was so upset. She still has one good eye left.” Lyra sighed and wiped her brow. “They have so much neat stuff there that it makes me wonder just how many different cutie marks ponies could earn if we had access to even a small fraction of it.”

“Wait, what?” Apple Bloom's ears perked up at the mention of cutie marks.

“It's mostly just an idle observation on my part. Three days isn't enough time to learn how they make all those things, and so far we haven't been able to replicate anything. Perhaps somepony out there is destined to unlock those human secrets. Hmm, maybe that's why they opened the place to tourism. With numerous eyes going there, some lucky pony is bound to make an important discovery eventually.”

Lyra yawned, stretched, and smacked her mint pony lips. “All this talking has really exhausted me. Well, I hope you recover soon, Apple Bloom. It's a shame you missed out on such an awesome opportunity.”

The mint unicorn walked away, leaving behind a filly torn with jealousy. Apple Bloom forgot her illness and tried to picture what the human world was like. It must be an amazing place—so full of stuff—stuff that could potentially appear on her flank.

She clenched her eyes and groaned. “Ah know I'm not supposed to, but I just have to go there now.” Having made that declaration, Apple Bloom stood up on the bench and held her head high. “To th-ah-ah achoo!”

Moment ruined, Apple Bloom sniffled and rubbed at her fuzzy muzzle. That was a not-so-subtle reminder that all was not well within her. Lyra's magic had made her feel tremendously better, but it hadn't cured her. Hmm, perhaps magical illnesses needed magic to live? It was probably a needless precaution to keep her home. Magic-free humans would probably be immune.

Decision made, Apple Bloom trotted off to catch the next train to Manehatten. Once there, she'd find the contrived plot device that allowed ponies to visit the human world. Look out, Earth, here comes Apple Bloom!

The Plot Device

The gateway to the human world was once a closely guarded secret. Now, it was a tourist attraction. A line of ponies stretched from the giant mahogany doors of Manehatten's visitor center well over the horizon. Apple Bloom groaned on the inside. Sneaking in was not going to be an easy task, if, for no other reason, than the ponies would yell at her for cutting in line.

Dressing up for the occasion, Apple Bloom tugged at her tight-fitting black jumpsuit. The snugly fabric made her little pony hide sweat. Well, she hoped it was the fabric. Her actions exhausted her far more quickly than they should have and she felt the disease lurking deep inside her like a lava lamp full of maggots. Lyra had never mentioned how long her spell was supposed to last, and Apple Bloom wasn't going to be able to do any cutie mark crusading if it wore off too soon and left her as a comatose lump of pure misery.

Acting quickly, she pulled out a black marker. Lyra had inadvertently given her an idea. Tip-hoofing her way through the crowded city street, she darted her way through the throngs of gathered ponies. Her attempt at being inconspicuous earned her a lot of strange looks. A filly ninja, she was not. Reaching the front of the the building, Apple Bloom reared up on her spandex covered hind legs and scribbled on the sign. Once she was finished, it read, 'For three days ONLY, visit the ~~HUMAN~~ HAMSTER world!'

“Hamster world?” A grey stallion with a grumpy-cat face for a cutie mark walked over to her. “You mean to tell me that all this time I've been standing in line for the wrong place?”

“Um... yea?” Apple Bloom looked up at him. With his stubble beard and grease-stained, gray tie he was an imposing sight.

The stallion groaned and tipped his black fedora down. “I don't suppose you'd know where the actual entrance to the human world is?”

“Well...” Apple Bloom blinked. Thinking of hamsters reminded her of somepony. “It's in Ponyville. You can find it in Fluttershy's cottage near the Everfree Forest.”

“Aagh! Contrived plot devices! They're always in the wrong spot!” He whipped about so suddenly that the coattails of his jacket smacked Apple Bloom in the face. “You hear that, everypony? If we want to go to the human world, we'll have to go to Fluttershy's cottage in Ponyville!”

There was much groaning and moaning and thundering of hooves as the herd galloped away. They kicked up so much dust that Apple Bloom had a sneezing fit. Once her nose settled down, everypony was gone. Well, that was easier than she'd expected. Now all she had to do was to get past the guards and find the device itself.

Within the lobby, two white unicorns stood proudly at attention. They were donned with solid gold armor, giant plumed helmets, and each held a spear decorated with a full-sized Equestrian flag. Apple Bloom relaxed upon seeing them. She had been worried that they might have some actual security here, but these were royal guards.

The black-clad filly wearing a big red bow plodded up to them. “Do either of y'all know where the contrived plot device is kept?”

One of the guards grumbled and pointed a hoof behind him. “Go straight down the hall, past the rack of brochures, and you can find it in the bathroom to the left.”

“Thanks.” Skipping gleefully, Apple Bloom hopped right past them.

After she was gone, the younger guard risked a glance at his older comrade. “Uh... That filly looked kind of suspicious and rather unsupervised. Do you think we should have stopped her?”

“Stop her? What do you think we are, actual guards?”

“Uh...”

“That stampede was suspicious too, and you didn't ask to investigate that.”

“Well...”

“Don't sweat it, boy. It would have been a bad idea anyway, and you know why? Because there could have been a giant monster out there. I mean, we look like guards, so ponies would have actually expected us to do something. Nevermind the fact that solid gold is too soft to offer any real protection and weighs us down like lead. Plus, our weapons are glorified flag poles. Have you ever tried to hurl a flag? No! Because it's stupid.

“You want to know what our real solemn duty is? It isn't to protect the innocent or even to defend our county. No, those kinds of things are best left to inexperienced little girls with their fancy-schmancy friendship magics. Our real duty is to stand around, looking guard-like. Whenever a danger looms or a crisis arises, we can feel secure at our posts knowing that a tiny filly out there somewhere is fighting with her life to protect us.”

The older guard's speech brought a tear to the recruit's eye. He sat up straighter and held his head higher. In a brotherly bonding moment, both ponies stood there, looking as guard-like as they ever had in their entire lives.

Apple Bloom couldn't resist picking up a brochure for Manehatten's water park. She tucked it in her mane under her bow and plodded down the hall. Before reaching the end, a small group of six ponies in lab coats opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Apple Bloom jumped and attempted to hide behind a potted plant. It was too small for her, and her tail, bow, and most of her head stuck out. The scientists gave her odd looks, but none of them did anything. Each of them could see the others looking at her. They all must have assumed that she was somepony else's problem.

In the end, they all walked off grumbling about the stampede, missing tourists, and useless guard ponies. Apple Bloom breathed a sigh of relief and darted into the bathroom.

She was shocked.

The smooth, marble walls sparkled and shined. The floor squeaked as she walked on it. It was so polished that she could see her own reflection in its surface. The air had a soft, pleasant aroma, with a hint of lemon. Apple Bloom could only come to one conclusion: this must be the colt's room. She'd never seen a bathroom look so dirty before.

Well, regardless of the filth, her interest was consumed by the strange devices cluttering up the room.

Standing alone was a tall mirror framed by a giant, purple horseshoe studded with gemstones. It was sitting on a short stand that was also rimmed with horseshoes. Apple Bloom walked up, but rather than seeing herself, she saw a small yellow-skinned human girl looking back at her.

“Whoa.” The little pony unconsciously took a step back, and accidentally tripped on her tail. Grumbling, she unzipped her black suit and tossed it in a corner. She was paler than she'd expected and dripping with sweat. Apple Bloom sat there panting. She forced herself up and got a drink of water from the faucet.

Also in the room was an impressive arrangement of tall stones. The gray slabs were roughly rectangular, standing on end, and arranged in a circle. Horizontal slabs lay across the tops of the crude pillars to keep them stable. Inside the center of this stone hedgerow was a shimmering black, starry void lightly outlined by a blue glow. It looked as if somepony had torn a rift in the fabric of reality itself, revealing the primordial essence that lurked between dimensions.

Behind that was a giant metal ring engraved with fluid alien symbols. The steel structure was anchored with sleek poles. Evenly spaced around the ring were softly glowing triangular yellow lights. A shimmering puddle wavered in the air inside the ring.

She also saw a circular platform enclosed by a glass tube, a weird electronic seat with a slowly rotating hypnotic spiral for a backrest, what looked like a ordinary cardboard box with the word 'teleporter' written on it, and several other strange things she couldn't identify. Apple Bloom scratched at her mane. She knew that a contrived plot device was going to be in this room, but she hadn't expected to find so many of them.

“C'mon, Apple Bloom, think,” she told herself. “Ah don't want to use the wrong one and accidentally erase myself from existence.” Her cute little yellow lips turned down into a frown while she contemplated. If only she'd picked up the information pamphlet at the front desk. She couldn't go back without risking being apprehended; she was stretching her luck as it was. Which one of those things was the contrived plot device she was looking for?

Apple Bloom's big, orange eyes glittered, widened and sparkled with insight. Of course! It all made so much sense. It would be the actual device meant for actual plots.

Having made her choice, Apple Bloom walked over to an open stall and climbed into the toilet. She pulled the handle, flushing herself into the human world.

Iponi's Curse

Apple Bloom groaned as she peeled her fuzzy little face off the dusty dirt road. The Earth's yellow sun shimmered in sweltering heat. No cloud could be seen in any direction. She felt far more twisted up inside than she ever had in her whole life. It was like a full-body swirly. Putting her filly hooves on the ground, she pushed herself up and gave herself a shake from her head to her tail. With four hooves solidly on the ground, she was far more unsteady than she had any right to be. Blinking slowly, she waited for the world to stop spinning before taking a good look at it.

Aside from the dusty, hard-packed dirt road, there was a sea of grass stretching out around her. It was all brown and dessicated, as if it hadn't been watered in weeks. There were still splotches of green, but the color was faded much like her enthusiasm for coming here. Where were the people? Where was the stuff? Why was she still a pony? Shouldn't she have transformed into a human?

The little filly groaned and rubbed her eyes. She really should have read the instructions. She'd probably messed up something important. How was she supposed to get home? If she wasn't already sick to her stomach, she would have felt sick to her stomach. Could she get a cutie mark for being a screw-up? It would probably serve her right to wind up with something dumb like a tangled slinky on her flank.

Heavy dust got into her nose; it smelled like mud. Her fuzzy muzzle scrunched up in teeny ridges as she prepared to sneeze. Thankfully, rubbing at her face stifled that reflex and she allowed herself to relax.

She wasn't really relaxed, though. With the sun trying to bore its way through her hide and oppressive heat squeezing sweat from her body, she started panting and looked around for shade. There was one tree far off in the distance, but it looked runty and didn't have much of a canopy. Apple Bloom frowned. Knowing her luck, it was probably full of ants or something.

The road she was on was lined with tall wooden poles that were strung with wires. She was uncertain of the purpose they served, but they didn't offer anything in the way of shade. Much further down the road, one building with faded and peeling blue siding stood alone in this emptiness. It didn't look like much, but it was better than standing out in the open.

With a sigh, Apple Bloom brushed the dust off her big, red bow. Since she was here, she might as well meet the natives, right?

As Apple Bloom walked down the brown, dusty road, she left the scene of her arrival behind her. Her actions had scuffed it up, but hidden in the agitated dirt was the faint outline of a human child.

“Good morning, my little students.” A large, brown-skinned heavy woman tapped on her chalkboard.

“Good morning, Miss Simangele,” her class replied. Rows of brown-eyed students with black, curly hair looked up at her. All of them wore shoes. None were barefoot.

“Now remember, while class is in session, we will only be speaking English.” She grabbed a piece of chalk and started writing out the day's lesson plan.

There was a knock on the door.

The interruption surprised her. She hadn't heard any vehicle drive up and a quick headcount assured her that all of her students were present. The knock itself had been weak. Hesitantly, she set down the chalk. “Come in.”

The knock repeated, weaker.

“Ngena,” she said in Zulu, breaking her own rule.

When the door failed to move, a boy got up and opened it. Sitting on the threshold was the strangest looking thing she'd ever seen. It was some kind of horse-like alien with bright red hair, a fuzzy, yellow coat, and huge, orange eyes. Child-like in appearance, the eyes faced forward and the muzzle was short and petite. It opened its mouth and started squealing, or was that a whinny? It's voice was high pitched, and it was articulate, but it only made horse noises. It was almost like it was trying to speak.

Simangele's blank look must have bothered it, because it hung its head and moaned. She debated shutting the door and just letting the thing go off on its own, but rabid curiosity gnawed at her. She clapped her hands to get its attention, made cooing noises and beckoned it inside. It jumped when she clapped, but after watching her, it perked up and walked in. She'd thought the creature might be scared off by the wide eyes of her curious students, but it simply returned a very wide-eyed gaze back at them. It nickered and hopped, clearly excited.

Simangele blinked. This behavior was human-like. Curiosity got the better of her and she glanced behind it. Though it held its fluffy red tail up high, its genitals were hidden. Based on the big, red bow it wore, it was probably female, though. “Um, excuse me miss...?” She felt kind of silly talking to something that looked like an animated giant plushie.

It, no she, heard Simangele talk and responded by sitting down on her yellow rump. She curled her tail around her legs and repeated the same general sounds she'd made earlier. Her whine was lower-pitched and more drawn out, though. Her pupils expanded into big voids, nearly swallowing her entire eyes, and her little horse lips curled down in a frown.

She was clearly pleading, but the large dark-skinned teacher had no idea what this pony thing wanted. Lacking anything better to do, she reached down and scratched the pony on her head. The red hair that made up its mane was thick and course. Beneath that was the distinctive feel of bone. The pony seemed to appreciate the gesture, closing her eyes and giving off a small sigh.

Her students couldn't resist joining in, grabbing at the pony's flank, and tail. Little fingers ran through the soft, yellow fur, rubbing and poking. The pony responded with a squeal and rolled over, exposing its soft underbelly for tummy-rubs. Her students obliged and soon the classroom devolved into a giggling ball of gleeful fondling.

The chaos grated at her teacher's instincts, but she couldn't help but smile. So what if they couldn't understand each other? This colorful little pony was a kid at heart, just like the rest of her class. Walking over to the blackboard, she erased what she'd written. Instead, she drew a sketch of the pony. Satisfied, she grabbed her metal triangle and rapped on its edge.

The distinctive metallic ring pierced through the cacophony and turned heads. Simangele stood tall and pointed at the empty seats. Her students were hesitant to give up their new play toy, but she had them well trained. With only a minimum of fuss, they got up and filtered into their assigned seats. To her surprise, the pony took a seat as well.

She was momentarily at a loss for words, but when her students started fidgeting she cleared her throat. “Well class, it looks like we have a guest today. Since she can't tell us her name, we're going to call her Iponi. In English, that means 'pony.' Can you say the word 'pony?' ”

“Pony,” her students repeated.

“Good, now—”

“P-P-P—” Iponi puckered up her lips and blew, making her fuzzy yellow cheeks puff out “—neigh?” she finished. Simangele's class snickered, but that was about as close to the word 'pony' as one could get by making horse noises.

“Uh, very good, Iponi.” Simangele stared. Her mouth hung open. This tiny horse wearing her big, red bow was every bit as eager to learn as she appeared to be. With her straight posture and a smile on her face, Iponi may have even been her best student at that moment.

Simangele cleared her throat and adjusted the collar of her deep blue blouse. “Right, then. Students, the word 'pony' is spelled like this.” Picking up a piece of chalk, she wrote the word 'pony' under the figure she'd drawn. Iponi's hoof went up. Simangele blinked. She raised her arm and pointed, making sure to use body language to convey her meaning. “Yes, Iponi?”

The filly hopped out of her seat and walked up to the blackboard. Standing up on her hind legs, she grabbed a piece of chalk in her mouth and made a series of deliberately placed tick marks on the board just under the word 'pony.' The writing was unlike anything Simangele had ever seen, but it was very clearly writing. It had the crude appearance of a child's handwriting, but the symbols were distinctive. Once the Iponi had finished, she spat out the chalk and sneezed. After a short sniffle, she rubbed her muzzle and said, “P-p-p-neigh.”

The class giggled again at the silly sounding word, but their teacher stood there gawking. She patted her fuzzy student on the head and pointed back at the empty seat. “Thank you, Iponi, that was... educational.” Simangele changed her mind about the weird, yellow, fuzzy horse. She wasn't a human in an animal skin; she was an alien with her own culture. She had her own language, writing, and presumably other things too. Whatever reason she had for coming here was unclear, but in this house of learning, she was welcome.

Iponi never made it back to her seat.

While she was walking, she doubled over in pain. A faint yellow glow briefly appeared for the sole sake of evaporating, leaving behind a paler pony, whose teeth started chattering and goosebumps appeared visibly through her fur.

Alarmed, Simangele ran over to help, but Iponi frantically shook her head and waved a hoof as a warning to keep away. She sneezed once, then again multiple times. Her subsequent sneezes were muffled, though, because she covered her face and blew them into the fuzz on her foreleg. The other students looked on with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. Simangele felt apprehensive. The sudden onset of that illness had her worried.

“Class, that's all for today. The lesson's over. You're free to go.”

A student in a green shirt moaned, “But I don't want to—”

“Shiya. Hamba ekhaya!” She clapped her hands and pointed at the door. While disappointed, the children obeyed and walked out. A few of them touched Iponi again before leaving despite the feeble efforts on her part to ward them off. Simangele sighed. Most of her students had bicycles, but a few of them were in for a long walk home. She wasn't certain how she was going to explain this to everyone's parents, but that was something to worry about later.

Iponi had shuffled herself into a corner in an effort to keep her distance from the little rugrats, but now that the others had left she flopped herself onto the floor and moaned. It looked as if the yellow filly was trying to melt through the concrete floor. Sneezing spasms sent ripples down her flesh, and after each one, she recovered more slowly and lethargically. The only part of her that didn't look like a huge pile of misery was her big, red bow.

Simangele wasn't about to stand by and let this cute little visitor suffer through her misery on her own. Walking over, she put the palm of her hand on the pony's forehead. It was damp with sweat and burning with intense fever. Iponi moaned and squirmed.

“Easy, child. Just relax and let momma take care of you.” She knew her words would be lost, but hoped the soothing tone in her voice would have an impact. First things first, though, she left to get a glass of water. The school building had running water thanks to an electric pump. The ground water was tinny, but otherwise pure. While filling a cup, she noticed a scratchiness at the back of her throat. It was probably just stress.

Water in hand, she sat down next to the pony and placed it in front of her. At first, the little filly just stared at it, but after Simangele nudged it closer, she leaned her head over to sniff at it. Unfortunately, if the amount of mucus dripping out of her nose was any indication, that didn't work very well. Iponi sneezed and rubbed at her face to wipe the snot away. She tried again, this time dipping her tongue into the liquid and tasting it directly. She smacked her little lips, then turned her head to look directly at Simangele with wide eyes and a bleary expression.

The scoolteacher blinked back before it dawned on her what she'd done. She giggled at her error. “Oh, right. I guess you want a bowl instead.” Before she could get up, though, Iponi bit the rim of the glass and tilted it up to drink from it. “...or not.” Once again, this warm little visitor had surprised her. It was such a shame that she was in such misery.

“Come here, you.” Simangele reached over and picked the little pony up, who squirmed and squeaked. “Oh relax. If you caught something from one of us, than chances are pretty good that I've already had it. If there's one thing that school children are good at sharing, it's diseases.” Iponi was heavier than she looked, weighing about the same as a large dog like a dalmatian. Simangele grunted and hefted the filly onto her lap. Well, she had more bosom than lap, but the soft folds of her flesh had to be more comfortable than the cold floor.

Iponi stopped struggling and let the woman hold her. Aside from the weight, the other thing Simangele noticed was the heat. This pony was burning up. She wished there was more she could do, but it was never a good idea to give people medicine to animals.

She wrapped her arms around the filly and held her close. With one hand, she held Iponi's head and lightly scratched behind her ears. The short, yellow fur was quite soft and silky. She felt nothing like a real horse, whose skin is mostly bare and leathery. Iponi moaned and groaned, but she closed her eyes and let the woman gently rock her.

Simangele's other arm gently stroked Iponi's body. The soft and slightly sweaty fur was a marvel to feel. Her ribs expanded and fell with each breath. So closely were they pressed together that she could feel each and every one of the pony's heartbeats. It was faster than a human's would have been, and not all breaths were regular, either. She frequently sniffled and occasionally broke out in a fit of wheezing. Thin snot oozed from her muzzle and caked itself in her fur.

The woman longed to sit there and hold this child forever. “You know, Iponi, many people believe that illness is a curse. It's divine wrath, delivered unto them as a form of retribution for their wrongdoings. Westerners would have you believe otherwise, but there is some truth to those beliefs. Oftentimes, people could have avoided exposure entirely if only they'd behaved more wisely.”

Iponi opened her eyes and looked at the woman. She opened her mouth and tried talking again. Her whinnies and squeals had changed pitch, altered by her blocked nasal passages. She even sounded sick.

Simangele shrugged and patted the filly on her head. “You're right, Iponi, I wish we could understand each other too.” Holding Iponi tight, she rocked gently and hummed out a lullaby until the filly settled down and closed her eyes.

Whispering, she said, “It's clear that you don't belong here. You're unlike anything else on Earth.” The scratchiness in her throat had been getting worse. Simangele resisted the urge to sneeze. “Now the real question is, were you cursed for coming here, or did you come here to curse us?” Looking down upon this half-dozing filly, with her drooping ears, sniffling, running muzzle, and her wheezing, labored breaths, it was hard to believe that such a small child was not as innocent as she looked.

Iponi's eyes popped open and she squirmed out of Simangele's grip. The firm muscles in her body weren't just for show; despite her illness, she was still strong. Hopping on her hind legs, she crossed her forelegs in front of her groin and bared her teeth in a huge grimace while her pupils constricted to beads.

Simangele laughed at the filly's antics. She pointed at door across the room. “The bathroom's over there.”

Iponi got the gist of her message and trotted through the rows of empty desks. She reached a hoof up and pushed at the door, but it failed to move. Frowning, she fiddled at the doorknob with her hoof.

“Hold on, let me get that for you.” Simangele was slow to get up, though, because her legs tingled with the sensation of pins and needles. They must have fallen asleep.

Iponi didn't wait for the human. She grabbed the doorknob in her teeth and twisted it that way, yanking the door open and running in. She slammed it behind her.

Simangele moaned. She was going to put the empty glass away, but found herself leaning against the wall for support. A strange urge to walk on all fours and a weird queasiness washed over her. She felt as if her skin was either too tight, or about to fall off.

A sharp squeal and a flash of light from the cracks in the bathroom's door frame caught her attention. “Iponi!? What's wrong? What happened?” There was no answer; steady gurgling of water was the only noise. Fearing the worst, Simangele ran over. In her clumsiness, she knocked over one of the student's desks. Yanking open the bathroom door, only emptiness greeted her. All that was left of Iponi was her big, red bow.

“No.” She reached down to pick it up, but her arm suddenly felt stiff. She watched in horror as a peach colored fuzz spread along its length. Her queasiness suddenly ramped up. She doubled over in pain. It felt as if all of her internal organs were fighting with each other as they shifted around and changed shape, because, well, that's what was actually happening. Right before she blacked out from the pain, an image came to mind from earlier in the day where all of her students had piled around the pony to fondle her.

All that was left of Iponi was her big, red bow...

...and her curse.

There Goes Humanity

Apple Bloom's eyes rolled around in her skull. She'd landed face-first on a dirt-spackled, grainy wooden floor. The air reeked of manure with a hint of lye. Groaning, she pushed herself back on her hooves. Through the walls of the outhouse, familiar sounds of ponies walking and chatting made her feel, if not better, at least relieved. She didn't have to worry about returning home now.

If she'd bothered to read the instructions, she would have known that the first plot device she used in the human world was going to send her back. She wished she could have said goodbye, though. That big brown lady with the tick lips had been really nice to her.

There was no sink, so she pulled out a sanitation towelette and did the best she could to rub herself down. She still smelled like urine, though. What she really needed was a bath. Apple Bloom sneezed and rubbed at her muzzle. Her nose had been runny for so long that snot had gotten caked into her fur. A wave of nausea washed over her as her head throbbed in a crushing vice forged from the agony of a thousand headaches. Forget the bath—she would settle for anything that could make her feel better—anything at all.

Creaking open the door, she had to blink twice to make sure it wasn't an illusion. She was in a dry, western town with wooden store-fronts, swinging doors, and all the ponies walking in the streets wore big, wide-brimmed hats.

“Appleoosa?”

The blustering, noon-day sun drove a wedge of red-hot splitting pain straight through her feverish skull, smothering the last little bit of her sanity.

The plague started small, limited to a small community in South Africa. It might have ended there too, if it weren't for the curious effect it had on its victims. Access to technology was limited, but humans were social creatures, and all it took was one user with a cell phone to doom the entire world.

A shaky video posted on LikeBook showed a town full of shambling, groaning, colorful ponies. There was a panicked voice, rambling so quickly as to be incoherent. A pony approached the camera. It was teal, with a ratty blonde mane. Drool hung from its slack-jawed mouth. It's big, blue eyes were bloodshot to the point of creepiness. The voice stopped rambling, and switched to short, fast, wheezing breaths. One word: “Mom?” A hand reached out and touched the pony's cheek, whose eyes closed and tears rolled down its face.

The camera lurched and fell. Horrible screaming began right before the video cut off.

It gained a Like... and a Fav... and a comment bemoaning how utterly stupid it was. Twelve million hits later, humanity had sealed its fate. Pony fever had just gone viral.

Dear Applejack, Big Mac, and Granny Smith,

Hey, cousins and great-aunt! I wish I could write to you with better news, but we caught Apple Bloom shambling in the streets sick with high fever. I almost didn't recognize her without her bow. She seemed insistent on returning to Ponyville and kept asking for a liar. Heh, ponies sure do say the strangest things when they let their fever run away with their lips.

I think Apple Fritter finally managed to convince her that she's too sick for travel and got her to lay down. Don't worry 'bout yer Bloom none, 'cause she's in good hooves here. My sister's already talking up a storm about all the excitin' home remedies she's going to try. We'll have her back to y'all lickety-split!

Home Sweet Home on the Apple Range,
-Braeburn

It was far too absurd to be true. A zombie horse apocalypse? Why did they all have such bright colors? Who could possibly have come up with such a ridiculous hoax?

The reporters swarming the area all wanted the inside scoop. They wanted to know how it was done. They wanted to know who was responsible. They wanted to how much it cost, where they got the materials, why rural South Africa, specifically, and great many other things. Reporting was in their blood. It was in their veins, and they'd get to the bottom of things.

None had expected it to be real.

It's pretty rare for press to be caught so flat-footed. Many shambling, sneezing, groaning ponies came out to greet the reporters with pleading looks on their faces of misery. Many others hid indoors.

The reporters certainly had a lot to talk about as they and their camera crews inspected the fuzzy residents with their fingers. They found no signs of masks. There were no zippers for costumes, and the pleading whines and whinnies were very convincingly equine. To make matters even stranger, a small brown colt with yellow freckles kept scratching the words 'help us' over and over again in the dirt.

Aliens. They had to be aliens. That was the general consensus amongst the reporters gathered there. The ponies had to be some sort of space alien who crash-landed on Earth and went insane from exposure to Earth viruses. That had to be it. It was the reporter's job to ensure that the truth got out, but sometimes they just had to fudge things to make a good story.

News on-hand, the film crews packed up and returned to their studios or moved on to their next assignment. Ah yes, reporting was in their blood and in their veins, along with a little something extra:

The truth.

Dear cousins,

Thank you for informing us about Apple Bloom. To be honest, we didn't even know that she'd gone missing. She was supposed to have been off on a field trip with Cheerilee to the human world. Once she's feeling better, be sure to ask her about that. Ah've a strange feeling it might be related to that liar she was asking for.

If things weren't so hectic right now with apple-polishing season, I'd come visit and nurse her back to health myself. But y'all know how important that is. Can't have any dull apples in the family! At least I can rest easy knowin' she's in good hooves.

Apple Family Pride!
-Applejack

P.S. We've included a replacement bow for her. Ah know y'all prefer big hats over there, but little Bloom would just die without her adorable red bow.

P.P.S. She likes her pancakes with a quarter slice of strawberry, a sixteenth of a stick of butter, and half a cup of syrup. Be sure to stack them three high and slice them into eights. If you don't do that, she'll take too big bites! Also, one bow could get lost too easily. We've included a dozen. She really, really, likes her bow!

P.P.P.S. Granny Smith keeps hittin' me with a mop. I'd best get back to work. Them apples sure aren't going to polish themselves, ya'know? Also, I hope this wagon-load of bows makes it to ya'll in time. Poor little Bloom must be in utter agony!

The city of Johannesburg was the first to fall. Densely populated, at about seven million residents, its loss was a crippling blow to South Africa, but it was hardly a sneeze compared to the chaos that followed.

At this point, there was no doubt that the plague was real. One would think that humans would learn quickly and stay far away from infectious equines, but this disease wasn't playing by normal rules. The same story repeated itself hundreds and thousands of times. A victim who'd been exposed would transform in a fit of agony, sometimes publicly, sometimes on camera. Those nearby simply couldn't resist gawking at or touching the wide-eyed adorable pony. Only after they were infected would they come to their senses and flee. But by then, it was too late.

The ponies themselves weren't all that eager to get out, move, or even do anything. Most disliked being touched, but were far too sick to put up anything more than a token protest. The oddest thing about them, though, was the occasional attempt to communicate. Updated mugshots appeared on LikeBook, showing the sad and snot-encrusted faces of colorful equines. These were often accompanied by blog posts saying such insightful things as:

GGHOFXCD BGHISD SUCCVKSD@!

I;'m a p-onjy8u njkowe kloolo,.;

or even

ewhyyytytytyytyyyy!!1112`121wq!!W1////?

This put their ability to communicate at about the same level as the average high school student.

In this early stage of the epidemic, pleas for aid fell on sympathetic, but otherwise deaf ears. It wasn't a matter of not wanting to help; it was a matter of the plague being to virulent to risk sending any aid workers. All foreign powers could do was to close their borders and pray. It was too bad that didn't work. All it took was a single victim near a blockade to prove that the disease would not be denied. Border guards and refugees alike found themselves fighting over soft, huggable, sneezing ponies.

They were all equally screwed.

Dear Applejack,

Well plum my dumpling darling! You sure are right that bow makes her look sooo sweet! Ah wasn't so sure at first, but looks right fancy on 'er full-body cast. Uh...

Ah MAY have gotten a teensy bit carried away with my doctorin'. But honestly, how was I supposed to know that 'feeling under the weather' was just an idiom and not a secret pegasai conspiracy to keep us earth ponies down, ya know? Though in retrospect, Ah probably should have gone for the balloons instead of the catapult. At least all those cacti broke her fall. They sure are soft!

The doctor assures us that Bloom will make a full recovery in a week, but Ah think I can get her back to y'all even faster if this next home remedy of mine pans out. Look for her soon!

Home Sweet Home on the Apple Range,
-Apple Fritter

P.S. This is Braeburn. Ah want to thank y'all for sendin' us those bows, but could ya please stop deliverin' them? After a dozen wagon-loads we're running out of room!

Recent population estimates put Africa at about a billion people. Five days later, that had dropped to less than seven hundred million humans, and that number was falling rapidly. The pony population, however, was booming... and they were none too happy about that. Why would they be? They were terribly terribly sick, and, well, their hooves were too big to pick their noses with. When their entire lives had been turned upside-down, and they felt like they'd been turned inside-out, sometimes it was the little things that mattered the most.

Like the virus itself.

Humans did not rule the world because they were stupid. They ruled the world because everything else was stupider. The thought of losing out to a mere virus was unthinkable. No virus could ever beat a human at chess. It was strange, yes. It was something new, yes. But there had to be a way to beat it. There had to a cure, a vaccination, some way to stop it for good. All they had to do was learn how it worked.

Humanity had long known that the world ran by sets of rules that could not be broken under any circumstance. These were the laws of thermodynamics, the laws of physics, the laws of nature, and even the laws of porn on the internet. Many people still believed that the plague was some sort of elaborate hoax, but those that didn't were working feverishly to map it rules and find a way to beat it.

They learned a few things. First of all, after spreading, victims showed no real symptoms until the sudden transformation. The incubation time was short, on the order of hours up to a day. Thanks to that limited time, nobody had yet managed to get the virus past airport security. Though, to be fair, some people had been dead for twenty years and were still waiting in line at airport security.

Next, they learned that it seemed to spread best via physical contact. It also wasn't contagious until after a victim transformed. Thus, sets of protective gear and instructions to avoid touching the ponies would be reasonable solutions to contain the virus until a cure could be found. Except...

They called it the 'kawaii effect.'

Inexplicably, all humans placed in close proximity to ponies would drop what they were doing and fondle the colorful equines. They were simply too cute to ignore. They'd even take off their protective gear! Perhaps it was pheromones. Perhaps it was hypnotism. Perhaps they really were that cute.

That was the key to virus's effectiveness, and short of a cure, countering this effect was the key to stopping the virus. It was just a disease. It didn't think. It had rules it played by—rules that could bind it. Humans would find a way to win. They were superior.

But this wasn't any mere virus. It rewrote the rules. Black king becomes pink pony with a fuchsia mane. Checkmate.

YOU DID WHAT!? Fritter, are you out of yer cotton flippin' mind!? Apple Bloom's not yer personal little science experiment to try yer whackjob home remedies on! Why, if I wasn't so busy with apple-measuring season, I'd be down there lickety-split. Grr... If only it weren't so important to know how well our fruit's been holding up (in inches). You'd best watch yerself 'cause I've got my eyes on you, cos'!

-Applejack

Dear Apple Fritter,

This is Granny Smith. Sorry 'bout my granddaughter. She's cute an all when she's blowin' steam 'bout protectin' her sister, but we're all family and I know you have 'er best interests in heart. 'Sides, it's nice to see another pony who appreciates the cactus. Back in the old days, we used to sleep on 'em 'cause they were so soft. Heh, that sure made pillow-fights interestin'.

Has Bloom said anythin' 'bout how she wound up in Appleoosa yet? Her friends stopped by and gave us a stick claiming it was from the human world. Lotta rubbish that was, but they said she couldn't go 'cause of her illness and should have come straight back to us. Ah know fever can addle the brain, but nopony should have let 'er go travelin' while she was sick like that.

P.S. Uh, as it turns out, you can't actually cancel an order that large. You, uh, don't need ALL of them mesas and canyons, right?

Africa, all of Africa, had fallen victim to the plague. The entire continent was a complete loss. The scope of what had been lost was utterly staggering, but that was as far as it was going to get. Humanity had a plan.

“Generals, news from the front.” Gasping for breath, a courier rushed into the war room. It was densely packed with high-ranking military personnel, secret serviceman and multiple heads of state. All-important eyes turned to the lanky young man who choked up from the sudden pressure.

The plan had been simple. Simple was good. A: Build a wall, and B: don't let anyone look directly at the ponies. Sure, the pesky little detail of frightened, scared and armed Africans not wanting to be trapped inside the plague zone offered a minor complication, but the sheer superiority of the combined Asian, European, and American armies kept the construction effort clear of refugees. More troublesome were the seas, but there were plans to keep those clear too. If the plague could be restricted by geographic boundaries, this was the best chance to keep it at bay.

Every man in that room had a hundred different electronic devices. The room was full of satellite feeds. They could have received the news far faster in a thousand different ways, so the fact that a courier had barged in was quite troubling.

Shoot to kill. That was part of the plan, and also its undoing. Snipers used video feeds to control their weapons indirectly, looking for ponies to drop. Drone pilots carefully monitored their screens as the aircraft patrolled the seas, looking for refugee boats full of ponies to scuttle. This one step removal allowed them to avoid direct observation and thus the kawaii effect. Humanity had declared war on the ponies, but in doing so, they made a terrible mistake. It was a war they could not win.

The tension in the room was so thick that one could cut it with a plastic spork. A five-star general slammed his hands on the ovular table. The impact rattled coffee mugs and pencils. “Well, soldier? Out with it! We haven't got all day!”

It's important to know something about ponies themselves. They're brightly-colored animals native to a world full of large predators. Usually, bright colors warn of toxins or poisons, but ponies have a different defense: magic. Any creature that looks upon them with the intent to harm or kill will have their parental instincts triggered. The ponies will suddenly appear to be helpless and adorable and something that needs to be protected. It's not a perfect defense, since other magical creatures can resist this effect thanks to magic of their own, but humans have no magic in them whatsoever.

“It's the army, sir.” The courier gulped and adjusted his collar. Sweat dripped down his face. “We surrendered.”

“WHAT!?” The shout came from many voices at once. Everyone around the table stood up.

“I-they... cute, so cute...” The man collapsed on the floor, babbling incoherently and sucking his thumb.

All eyes turned to the Big Red Button. It was the contingency plan, the nuclear option. Should their plan fail, they were prepared to lay waste to civilization as they knew it. Atomic bombs would vaporize all of Africa, scouring all forms of life. The fallout would render most of the world uninhabitable, but humanity would persist. It was the only way to preserve their species.

Leaders of nations, leaders of armies reached out to cast their votes. A hundred hands reached for their buttons. Should the vote pass, there would be no turning back. A billion ponies would die.

The many video screens showed close-ups of the wide-eyed colorful equines. The fur on their faces looked smooth and soft. Little pink tongues poked out of their small, petite mouths. Half-drooped ears and big, fuzzy manes adorned the pitiful, sad faces.

A hundred hands trembled. The vote was unanimous.

A hundred nations... surrendered.

Dear Applejack,

Uh, as it turns out, the buffalo pilgrimage to the top of Howling-Mad Canyon was only meant for SPIRITUAL healing, and wasn't ever meant to be attempted by a pony in a wheelchair.

Good news! Little Strongheart assures me that my spirit has been cleansed.

As for yer other question, well, Bloom sure yelled a lot of stuff while she was danglin' from that precipice by her tail, but none of it explained how she got to Appleoosa. Honestly, you'd think she was upset or somethin' the way she kept yellin' at us with her totally unreasonable demands. Ah mean, what kind of whacked-out crazy pony runs around all the time carryin' rope underneath 'er hat? To hear it from 'er, we didn't do anything, but I can assure y'all that we most certainly DID do 'something—anything at all!'

You wouldn't believe just how cute all them cacti looked with big, red bows on them.

Our doctor assures us that if we can keep Bloom in bed, and not gallivanting across the countryside in search of further head trauma, that she can still make a full recovery in another week. But don't worry, I've got plenty of things Ah can try just by staying home and sticking to more 'traditional' medicine.

Yours Truly,
-Apple Fritter

The world was in chaos. Nobody knew what to do. The end times were upon them.

God had forsaken humanity.

Scientists were still hard at work attempting to find a solution, but none came. A mission was launched to retrieve the astronauts from the space station. The official reason being that they did not want humanity's last legacy to be rotting corpses in space. A total global travel ban was placed, in an effort to buy more time, but the end was in sight. It was inevitable.

God had cursed humanity.

With the failure of armies, a few citizens turned to vigilantism. They armed themselves to the teeth, and declared their personal vendettas against the ponies. Surely, where everyone else had failed, a few whack jobs with guns would be able to take matters into their own hands and stem the endless tide of zombie ponies. Their sweaty tank-tops and rippling biceps would be protected by God, and they would save all of humanity with their heroism.

...they were never heard from again.

God had a new favorite.

Ponies walked in the hearts of nations. Their shambling strides and mournful, sneezing cries replaced the once-bustling activity of the previously human residents. Discarded signs proclaiming doom and gloom littered the streets.

The end times were neigh.

Dear Apple Fritter,

Y'all are walkin' on real thin ice here, REAL THIN. It might sound like I'm calm, but that's because I'm so spittin' with rage that I can't even put pen to paper without tearin' it to shreds. Big Mac's writing this and he's not one to copy my cussin'.

Eeyep.

Y'all are so lucky that the single most important part of the apple-growing year is upon us and Ah can't abandon the farm for ANY reason: apple looking-at season. Why, it's so important that I can't even get my friends to help; they might look at something else! And, well, Ah can't leave, because those apple sure aren't going to look at themselves.

Eeyep.

Y'all have one last chance to take of Bloom and nurse her to health the RIGHT way. Don't waste it.

-Applejack

PS. Eeyep.

There was one last-ditch effort to save humanity. A great vault had been built. The location was secret, but the intent was clear. Fifty of humanity's best and brightest men were to seal themselves off from the rest of the world. They had enough supplies to build a small underground civilization that could last for thousands of years.

Without ceremony, the vault doors were closed. They were sealed shut, welded from both sides.

The fifty brightest minds of humanity sat around a table. All wore solemn expressions. It was a sad day, but thanks to these brave men, their legacy would be preserved for the foreseeable future.

A man in a green shirt stood up. He lifted a coffee mug, peered under it, then set it down. He turned his back to the others, and parted a potted plant. A moment later, he opened and closed the refrigerator. “Nope, nope, and nope.”

“Excuse me, but what are you doing?” a man in a blue shirt asked.

“I'm looking for the women.”

“The women!?” A black-robed man jumped up and slammed his hands on the table. “Please tell me that we didn't forget the women!”

“How could we forget the women!?” another voice wailed, “They're possibly important!”

“Whoa, whoa! Calm down, everyone!” A red shirted man slammed a granite gavel on the table. The noise echoed in the hollow chamber. “Of course we didn't forget the women! This shelter has two hundred rooms and they were admitted yesterday. They'll come out to greet us when they're ready.” Dropping his gavel, the red shirted man pointed at the one in the green shirt. “The better question is, why are you looking for the women in the refrigerator, you freak!?”

A man with a pink shirt moaned, “Great, we're stuck here for all of eternity with that loon. Is it too late to vote him out?”

The green shirted man cackled. He roared with laughter and twirled a large key around his index finger. “I was just messing with you all. This was something of an in-joke between myself and my wife Mare. There's something special about Mare... Oh, I remembered the 'women', all right.” He fitted the key in the lock of a large iron door. Grunting, his high heels dug into the dirt, and the door squeaked as it slowly inched open. “You can come out now, ladies.”

Ears drooped and heads hung low, fifty mares shambled out. The foreseeable future suddenly became five minutes.

“They're infected!” Jaws dropped and mouths hung open.

“You! This is your fault!” a white shirted man screamed. He backed against the wall but his defensive posture quickly melted when he gazed into the half-lidded emerald eyes of a tan mare with a long, flowing pink mane. “Wendy, is that really you?”

The mare sneezed, and nodded.

He couldn't help it. He wrapped his arms around her soft, fuzzy neck. He scratched behind her ears while he still had hands. The heat from her feverish body nearly burned him even as her sweat stained his white shirt. “Oh baby, I'm so sorry.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “Don't worry. We'll get through this... somehow.”

Around the room, the scene was the same. Each man held his pony, stroking with loving affection.

“How did this happen?” the red shirted man asked. “The quarantine...”

“Don't be stupid!” the green shirted man shouted. “We're the smartest men on Earth! A little security is easily bypassed by ones such as us!”

“But... why?”

“Why? I'll tell you why!” The green shirted man puffed out his chest. He leaned to the side, proudly presenting his pony for all to see.

This was a man who held multiple PhDs. His inventions had transformed the world, and his IQ was so high that traditional tests could not measure its limit. Whatever reason he had for betraying humanity's last hope had to be profound. Philosophers could potentially study his answer for centuries and still not find half the hidden meaning. Those in the room all knew that he was the best amongst them all. They looked upon his pony with envy, and waited with baited breath for him to speak.

“Because... I'm a furry.”

Dear Big Mac,

Hey, 'cos, y'all won't believe just how cute the entire buffalo herd looks with big, red bows on 'em. More like bow-falo herd, right? Y'all gave us enough bows for them and everyone and everything else. Why, the sheriff's even thinkin' about changing our town's name to Apple-bow-sa! Wouldn't that be a hoot?

Oh right, you probably want to know how Apple Bloom is doing...

The doctor assures us that Apple Fritter is a complete quack who shouldn't be allowed within fifty tectonic plates of another patient. Ah'm sure he's just exaggerating a little bit. Honestly, panacea, poison, both words start with the letter 'p.' Anypony could have made that mistake!

Well, the good news is that poison ivy is mostly harmless aside from a lingering rash and terrible, insatiable itching feeling that consumes all waking thoughts and drives one to the edge of insanity on a rusty tricycle. Good thing Bloom's still wearin' that full-body cast, or she might actually scratch herself.

Hold up. She has something to say:

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLP!!!! - Apple Bloom

'Daw, isn't she just the cutest little thing when she's in utter agony? Well, Ah'm sure that Fritter's next plan will work. Once she brings those blue flowers back from the Everfree, the doctor will no choice but to admit that he was wrong 'bout her. Ain't no flowers never hurt nopony, right?

-Braeburn

P.S. Uh, y'all won't tell Applejack 'bout this, right?

P.P.S. HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLP!!!! - Apple Bloom

Civilization had collapsed. Humanity was in tatters. The only remaining population centers of any significance were on remote islands. It was only a matter of time before some boat full of ponies would wash up on their shores and they too, would fall.

Waiting was the worst part.

The seas were never calm. Even on clear days with no wind, waves from halfway across the world would still lap up against the beaches. While people still begged to God for forgiveness and asked to be spared, it was clear that He was not listening. Or perhaps He was.

Back were it had all began, deep in the heart of South Africa, the fever had finally run its course. The ponies started feeling better, and were attempting to return to their normal lives. The once rambling and incoherent blog posts became more well thought-out and used actual words. They were full of angst and despair, but they were real words. Things were bleak, but there was some hope.

Humans built things to last. Their legacy would persist far beyond their existence as a species. But ponies had a vested interest in keeping things running too. Perhaps civilization didn't need to collapse, after all. It would be difficult to keep going, but was it impossible? Only time would tell.

The oceans were vast, far larger than land. They held a great many things, and one such thing appeared on the horizon. It was the Carnal Victory, a luxury cruise ship that had fallen victim to the plague shortly after leaving port. Estimated population: about four hundred ponies. The restless ocean was slowly, inevitably, carrying it to shore.

Waiting was the worst part.

Dear Idiots,

If y'all are readin' this, then that probably means that you're waking up right about now. Ah'm so terribly sorry 'bout yer headaches, but that's what happens when ya get knocked in the head. Repeatedly. With proper rationing, Ah figure you've got enough supplies for 'bout three to four moons. That's about how long it'll take ya to learn to navigate by the stars and paddle yer way back home. Since y'all seemed to like 'em so much, Ah took the liberty of building yer raft entirely out of cacti.

Enjoy being lost at sea!!!

With love from your family,
-Applejack

The last human on Earth sat alone in her room. There was a knock on her door. It was time. Pants or no pants, she would join the herd.

Sorry

“Ow! Applejack, that hurt,” Apple Bloom whined as the tweezers extracted another sharp, barbed thorn from her sore, blue hide.

“Calm down, sugarcube. You'll be feeling a lot better once we get rid of them buggers.” Applejack grabbed the swinging light and held it steady as she gently parted the filly's sky-blue fur and ocean-blue mane looking for thorns. “Aha!” A tan speck stood out against the azure field.

The train clacked and clattered as it moved, rattling against its rails and jarring its occupants. The tweezers slipped and jabbed several times before finding their mark. With non-careful imprecision, they tore away at an odd angle, ripping out the thorn and leaving behind a slowly-growing droplet of glistening blue blood.

“Applejack! Can't this wait until we get home?” Apple Bloom moaned and rubbed at the sore spot, wincing when the train lurched and she bumped it too hard.

“Oh, don't be so gloomy, Apple Bl—” Applejack started snickering and scrunched up her muzzle. She held a hoof over her fuzzy mouth to stifle the noise.

Apple bloom gritted her cyan teeth. She threw her forelegs in the air and yelled, “Just say it already!”

“Apple Blue.”

“I hate poison joke. I hate it, hate it, hate it!” Apple Bloom banged her head against the side of carriage, a task made easier by the way the wall lurched with the train's motion and banged her right back.

“Oh relax, sugarcube. All things considered, I think ya got off pretty lightly. All you are is a different color. At least ya don't have to worry about ponies steppin' on ya.”

“It's not just that, Applejack. To me, everything looks blue. Everything sounds blue. Everything tastes blue. Ah even feel blue.” Apple Bloom groaned and folded her forelegs on the rattling table. She flopped her chin down and her ears and mouth drooped as if her face was melting and trying to conform to the available space.

“Oh. Well, I guess ya did get a pretty strong dose. Ah don't know where Fritter got the idea that poison joke was a good way to cure poison ivy, or that the best way to administer it was via an enema, but it did work after a fashion. If yer feeling blue, that means yer not itchy, right?”

Apple Bloom snorted.

“Aw, snugglebug, cheer up. Once we get back home we'll put on a heated bath and ya can relax while Zecora's remedy fixes ya right up. Then we can laze back at the orchard just in time for apple-appreciatin' season. C'mere, you.” Applejack set down her tweezers and grabbed her blue-tinted sister for a great big hug. With the train rattling and shaking, she hugged way too hard.

“Aaaah! Thorns!” Apple Bloom yelped and squirmed out of her sister's grip. “Applejack, I appreciate getting back at those two, but why did I have to carry the cacti the whole way to Manehatten? Why!?”

Hours later, Apple Bloom relaxed as hot water poured down over her head. Her red mane flattened and washed over her fuzzy, yellow face along with the steaming water. “Ah can't believe that I finally feel good!” She took a deep breath and dunked her head underwater. Her whole body shook, sending ripples through the pool. She popped out and gasped, splashing anypony who was nearby. “No more sneezing! No more thorns! No more itching! No more aching, broken bones!”

Applejack chuckled. “Well, shucks. Guess you're all charged up to do yer homework, then.”

“What?” Nothing stopped a school-age filly dead in her tracks quite like the mention of homework.

“Well, ya sure did miss out on a lot of school. Don't worry, tough. Some of the other school fillies took extra notes to help ya out. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon will let ya study with 'em. Plus, Cheerilee's agreed to give ya private lessons over the weekends until ya get caught up. Isn't that sweet of them all?”

Apple Bloom groaned and beat her face against the water.

Applejack laughed. “Glad to see yer so eager to get started!” She pulled a piece of paper out from under her hat. “Shucks, I'll help ya out too. Uh, first question: Can ya name somethin' new that ya learned while you were out?”

“Something new...?” Apple Bloom frowned and stared at the water. “Uh...”

“Ah bet ya learned lots! Hmm... Maybe something about cacti? Why, you could even go get one if ya need to bring something in fer show an tell.”

“No!” Apple Bloom shuddered, shaking her dripping wet mane. “Ah mean, uh, I thought of somethin' else. I learned a new word.”

“Ya did?” Applejack raised an eyebrow.

“Sure! It goes like this:” Apple Bloom took a deep breath. She puckered her puckered her lips and started off with the 'p-p' sound, and ended with a short neigh. Applejack's eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. Patrons in the spa gasped and covered the ears of their foals. The spa pony dropped the bucket she was carrying, which cracked and spilled steaming scented bathwater onto the tiled floor. The word Apple Bloom had uttered was none other than the Equestrian word for 'go fuck yourself with a cactus.'

“Apple Bowtie Blossom! I never want to hear you say that again!”

Apple Bloom gulped. There was nothing worse than being yelled at with her full name, and to make matters worse, she didn't even know what she'd done wrong. “Uh...”

“Don't be wishy-washy with me, young lady! Say yer sorry and promise never to use that word ever again!”

“Ah'm, sorry, okay. I didn't know it was bad! Ah just thought...” Apple Bloom sniffled. Her big, filly eyes caught the light from candles, and their reflections wavered as her eyes started to fill with tears.

Applejack sighed. “Aw, sugarcube, you don't have to cry. Ah guess it's not yer fault if ya didn't know, but, uh, where did ya hear that, anyway?”

“It was, uh...” Apple Bloom almost blurted out the truth but stopped herself when she remembered that she wasn't supposed to have been to the human world. “Ah learned it on my way to Appleoosa?” She shrugged.

“On yer way to—” Applejack frowned and pulled her hat low, covering her face in shadow. “Apple Bloom, ya never did tell us. How did ya manage to wind up in Appleoosa while sick as a zombie? Care to explain that?”

“Oh, that... uh...” Apple Bloom's eyes went wide. She gave a nervous chuckle and scratched at her wet mane. “I... um, forgot, actually.”

“What,” Applejack said flatly. “Apple Bloom, are you sure you forgot? Because to me, it looks like yer trying to hide something.”

“Uh... yes! Ah mean, no. Of course I forgot. I was sick at the time.” The sweet little filly grinned so wide that she bared both rows of her sparkling white teeth.

“Hmm... guess ya wouldn't know anythin' about a certain liar, then?” Applejack gave her sister a piercing stare. She slowly raised one eyebrow. It was the eyebrow of reckoning. Nopony could resist the eyebrow.

Apple Bloom's sweat added to the liquid in the pool. “Ah swear! Ah'm telling the truth! I didn't have nothin' to do with the human world!”

“The... human world?” Applejack's eyebrows came crashing down. They formed an angry 'V' over a fuzzy ridge on her scrunched-up muzzle. “You were that yellow filly in the black jumpsuit with the big, red bow who snuck into the Manehatten Visitor Center?”

Apple Bloom gulped. Her ears drooped and she glanced around the room. The spa wasn't known for its plethora of emergency exits. “You... heard about that?”

“Heard about it? Of course I—” Applejack snorted. She peered at her sister with an angry glare. “Fluttershy had the worst day ever! Half the ponies in Manehatten showed up on her doorstep, all of whom wanted to come inside and flush themselves down her toilet! It took three princesses and a giant trout to sort out the mess, and while she was dealing with that mess, a bunch of rattlesnakes snuck into Hamster World.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“You'd better darn right be sorry! You know how much Ah hate lyin'! You are in hot water, young lady!” Both of them paused and looked at the steaming pool that Apple Bloom was sitting in. “Uh, what I mean is, you are in a lot of trouble! You'd best think long and hard about how it was that you wound up in Appleoosa. When I ask ya again, you'd best speak the truth.”

“Um... If ya don't like my answer, can I have a do-over?” Apple Bloom grinned sheepishly.

Applejack stomped her hoof so hard that buckets rattled. She snorted fiery steam. “NO!”

“So, you're telling me that Apple Bloom went to the human world while sick with pony fever?” Twilight asked. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her fuzzy head. Applejack had a stern, admonishing glare aimed at her sister who hung her head dejectedly. All three ponies stood in the foyer of Twilight's sparkling castle. “That's not possible. My safety spell should have triggered and pulled her right back.”

“Uh...” Apple Bloom raised a small yellow hoof, but put it down once she realized that she had no idea what Twilight was talking about. “...safety spell?”

“You know, the recall mechanism. Access to magic-free worlds is exceptionally rare, and a great deal of care must be taken to ensure that they remain free of contamination. Back when I set up the contrived plot device, I added numerous safety measures to the whole flushing process. I checked, double-checked, and triple-checked my double-checking to ensure that it was perfect. If you were at all feeling ill, you shouldn't have been able to cross dimensions. The toilet should have spat you back out right where you started.”

“Oh... well... Ah guess Lyra's spell that made me feel better must have stopped that from working.” Apple Bloom tried to turn her huge frown into a sheepish grin. This bared her teeth in only the corners of her little, pony mouth. If her big, wide eyes weren't so adorable, she would have looked ridiculous.

Twilight, meanwhile, contorted her own face. Her eyelids vanished into the recesses of her skull, showing the full size of the whites of her eyes to the world at large. In the first 'twang' of many, a blue lock of hair curled away from the rest of her mane. “What!? B-but... No! That, um... Aaargh! LYRA!”

“Whoa, calm down there, Sugarcube.” Applejack rested a hoof on Twilight's shoulder. “Ah know it sounds bad, but what's the worst that could happen?”

“The worst? Nnnngh!” Twilight gnashed her teeth and stretched her neck in the air. “The worst would be if we had to update the bulletin board.”

Apple Bloom's eyes went wide and her pupils shrank. Her fluffy ears fell, drooping sideways. “No! not that! Anything but that!”

“But! We won't know for sure until I can take a look. I'm going to need my reference books on interdimensional scrying. Piercing the ether is tricky with our dimensions so far out of alignment. In the meantime, take Apple Bloom back to the Manehatten Visitor Center. Oh! And bring Lyra. She's in on this too, apparently.”

“Okay, Twilight. Will do.” Applejack nodded and plodded out the door.

Apple Bloom hung her head and walked out dragging her tail. Mention of the bulletin board sent a chill into her heart. She hoped the humans were okay.

Applejack stood in the lobby of the Manehatten Visitor Center, admiring the squadron of royal guards all cramped inside. They wore impassive expressions, and stood regally in a very tight group. Apple Bloom sat next to her, still slurping on a massive fountain drink that she'd picked up from a street vendor.

The door creaked open and a mint unicorn froze at the sight of all the guards. Lyra eeped and dove for cover behind a bush.

Applejack groaned. “Lyra, they're not here to get ya. Y'all can come in just fine.”

“That just what they want you to think! Then, bam! Right to the oppressin'! Oh, no! I'm not going anywhere near them!”

“Of all the things to be afraid of...” Applejack shook her head. She raised a hoof and pointed at the guardsponies. “Just look at them, will, ya! They're not even real guards. All they do is stand there and look guard-like.”

Indeed, the royal guards were just as impressive as ever. They held their flagged spears high and their polished gold armor glinted in the light of the lobby's chandelier. To a stallion, they all stood at formal attention. There wasn't a single plumed helmet or stray eyebrow out of alignment in the whole lot. These were trained professionals, and they took standing there guard-like very, very seriously.

“I see them, all right, and it's unnatural the way they just stand there. They're robots I tell you! Robots!”

“That has to be the dumbest thing Ah've ever heard!” Applejack glanced at the motionless guards. “Y'all are just loving this, aren't ya?”

Apple Bloom's pupils shrank and she hopped up on her hind legs. She crossed her forelegs in front of her groin. “Applejack, Ah really need to use the filly's room.”

“Huh? That's fine, sugarcube. Yer old enough to by yerself. Ah'm gonna stay here and see if I can talk some sense into that nutcase.”

“Okay.” Apple Bloom took off and ran down the hall. She passed the rack of brochures on the—

Apple Bloom skidded to a halt. She'd lost the last brochure she'd picked up, and it looked like Rainbow Rapids was offering a new promotional deal. Of course, looking at all that water just reminded the filly of how much she really needed to pee. Apple Bloom stuffed the brochure back in the rack and continued on to the end of the hall.

Much to her relief, the filthy room that housed the contrived plot device really was the colt's room. She pushed open the opposite door and walked into a starry void.

All of existence vanished around her. Apple Bloom plodded alone in star-speckled nothingness. An immense feeling of peace washed over her. The filly's room was not just devoid of all forms of material contamination, but eased the mind and freed it from emotional baggage as well. It was a feeling of pure existence, and just being there made all her worries evaporate.

A large, regal, alicorn appeared before her with a smile on her face. “Why hello there, Apple Bloom. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Princess Celestia!” Apple Bloom respectfully bowed. “Uh, Ah really need to pee.”

Celestia giggled. “Of course. Come, walk with me, my little pony.”

Apple Bloom nodded and plodded alongside the regal alicorn who rubbed the little filly gently with her wing. Celestia took a deep breath and started to sing.

“You've come such a long, long way...

to the bathroom.

And I've watched you from that very first day...

when you were three—”

As Celestia continued to sing, the stars around them swirled into galaxies. Billions of years passed with every beat of Apple Bloom's tiny, pony heart. All that was, and all that ever would be flew by in the blink of an eye. Galaxies formed and died, stars exploded and were reborn. This was the birthplace of an entirely new universe, and it was all created for the sole purpose of Apple Bloom's piddling in it. Anything less would be unsanitary.

“And now before you, you see...

with flowers!

This world's first and only, one true potty...

For you, with love.”

A beam of white light illuminated a porcelain throne sitting amongst a field of white flowers, all of which had been created from cosmic dander and ethereal fog.

“It looks great! Thanks, Celestia!” Apple Bloom ran forward.

Celestia giggled and vanished to give the filly her privacy.

Looking much relieved, Apple Bloom returned to the lobby. Lyra had somehow gotten herself tangled in the ceiling fan.

“Lyra, what are you doing?” Applejack buried her fuzzy face in her hooves.

“Ha! The evil floor demons can't touch me up here! I won't be roboticized like them!”

Apple Bloom blinked and looked up the mint unicorn slowly rotating in circles while dangling by her tail. “Do ya need some help?”

“Apple Bloom, thank Celestia yer back. I sure could use an extra, um...” Applejack paused and sniffed at the air, wrinkling her muzzle in distaste. “Did ya wash yer hooves?”

“Uh...” Apple Bloom grinned sheepishly and avoided direct eye contact.

“Apple Bloom! Y'all know how important that is! Do you want to get sick again!?”

“No.”

“Then go back and wash yer hooves!” Applejack snorted and pointed back down the hall.

Dejected, the little filly hung her head and walked away, dragging her tail.

One entire universe later, she came back with sparkling clean hooves. “Sorry, Applejack. I won't forget again.”

“You'd better not. Now see if ya can help me—”

The door creaked and swung open as a frazzled Twilight walked in, levitating several crusty tomes behind her. She took one look at Lyra and deadpanned. “Well, if it isn't the pony who thinks she's a monkey. Get down from there and meet us in the colt's room.”

Lyra whipped her hoof out and pointed at Twilight, which caused her to sway back and forth as she rotated. “Hey! Just because I have this thing for humans doesn't automatically mean that I think I am one. And besides, humans even aren't monkeys, anyway!”

“Well, they may not be anything, anymore—”

“What!?”

“—and monkeys do dangle by their tails, Lyra. Applejack, Apple Bloom, come on. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can figure out what kind of disaster we're dealing with.” Twilight waved them over and the three of them started down the hall.

“Uh...” Lyra was left dangling. “Wait! Could I get some help first?”

Twilight poked her fuzzy muzzle back in the room and pointed at the group of royal guards cramped in the corner. “If you can't get down by yourself, you can always ask them for help.”

As a unit, the guards simultaneously saluted with mechanical precision.

Lyra's eyes went wide and her pupils constricted. “No! No no no! Uh, I mean I can get down just fine!” Lyra closed her eyes and concentrated. Sweat dripped off her furry brow onto the scuffed, wooden floor as her lemony magic wrapped around her tail and yanked it in many directions at once. It ripped and Lyra yelped. She landed with a thud in an awkward, mint-colored heap. Flopping over, stunned, her eyes rolled around independently.

The guards all dropped their hooves and resumed their original stances. The floor creaked in sync with the precise movements.

Lyra gasped and scrambled down the hall at a full gallop.

Twilight glanced at the other various objects cluttering up the colt's room before turning her attention to the toilet. Tinted blue water rippled slightly as Lyra stormed in, gasping and wheezing. Twilight ignored the heaving unicorn and turned her attention to the small yellow filly with the big, red bow. “Apple Bloom, do you remember which of the preconfigured landing sites you picked?”

“Uh...” Apple Bloom blinked. “What?”

Applejack narrowed her eyes. “Apple Bloom, did ya not even read the instructions?”

“Er...”

“Apple Bloom!” Twilight yelled. “The instructions are printed in big, bold letters on the wall opposite the rack of brochures. How could you possibly miss them?”

“Did ya know that they're having a twenty percent discount at Rainbow Rapids this week?” Apple Bloom grinned.

Twilight ground her teeth together. “How could you not even—grrah!” She growled and glared at Apple Bloom, who shrunk back. Blinking, Twilight took a deep breath and sighed, releasing some of her pent up tension. “Sorry. This is all just so hard for me to swallow. Apple Bloom, if you'd read the instructions, you'd have known that you have to jiggle the handle to calibrate it. If you don't do that, you'll wind up someplace random.”

“Wait, random? Do you mean I could have gone somewhere other than a generic shopping mall?” Lyra asked.

“Hey, I picked those malls to provide the best calculated exposure to human culture that I could, and also to provide multiple nearby exits in case something went wrong. And besides, the Earth is about two-thirds water. Those aren't good odds if you're just landing randomly. Humans can't swim that well.”

“Oh.”

“That's interestin' and all, but didn't ya have something ya wanted us to see, Twilight?” Applejack asked.

“Yes, just give me a minute, okay? I have to check the plumbing to to see if I can find record of where Apple Bloom landed.” Twilight scrunched up her face as she carefully examined the mineral stains on the bowl with a q-tip. She used her magic to jiggle the handle and lightly hmmed to herself.

“Find anythin'?” Applejack asked.

“Well... It's really dirty...” Twilight frowned and tossed her soiled, rust-stained and hair-covered cotton swab in a nearby waste bin. “Ugh. I think somepony shed on it.”

“Um, I wound up by a dirt road in a grassy field, if that helps,” Apple Bloom said.

“Apple Bloom, there are literally like a million dirt roads in grassy fields. Could you be more specific?” Twilight asked.

“Uh, well... It was hot, and sunny, and, uh, the people I saw were all brown with black hair and brown eyes.” Apple Bloom shrugged. “Aside from that Ah don't really know. It's not like I could read anything.”

“Hot?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Actually, that does help. With the Earth's climate, you probably wound up in the tropics or the southern hemisphere...” Twilight turned her eyes back to the potty and tapped on the bowl rhythmically to make the water jiggle in a specific resonance pattern.

“Hot?” Lyra asked. “Do you mean I could have gone someplace where I wasn't freezing my butt off?”

“You'd have been a lot more comfortable if you hadn't taken your clothes off,” Twilight muttered. “That's kind-of why humans wear clothes in the first place. They don't have fur.”

“You heard about that?” Lyra blushed slightly and averted her eyes. She used her magic to randomly spin a roll of toilet paper and giggled as the perforated sheets piled up on the floor. Apple Bloom couldn't resist joining in and spun a roll of her own. The toilet paper rolls went squeak squeak as potty-paper piled profusely on the potty-room's pristinely polished, plaid-patterned, porcelain plates.

“Would you two cut it out?” Applejack snapped.

“Aw, you're no fun.” Lyra drooped her ears and put on a big pouty-face. Her wide eyes glistened in the artificial light. Apple Bloom kinda shuffled and hid behind Lyra's frayed tail.

Applejack facehoofed. “Ah swear, you two sure are somethi—”

“Aha!” Twilight reared back as a flash of magenta light sent steam billowing from her porcelain throne. “I got a fix on your entry point! So that's where you, um... It really is just a dirt road in an empty field.”

“Let me see!” Apple Bloom ran over and stuck her head in the rusty, hairy potty. “It looks dark.”

“Huh?” Lyra nosed her face over the bowl as well. “It sure is. Why's it dark there, but not here?”

Twilight blew on the glassy surface of the water. The image shimmered and brightened a tiny bit, enhanced by her magic. It still looked dark, though. She sighed. “Day and night work differently in their dimension. Rather than having two ponies move the sun and moon so that everyone experiences the time simultaneously, they keep the sun in one spot and spin their planet. Thus, one side is always day and the other night, and they gradually exchange positions as the planet rotates.”

“Well that's a stupid way of doing things. How the hay would anypony know what time it is if it's night one place, but day somewhere else?” Applejack asked.

“We don't know, and that's one of the many things we're trying to study,” Twilight said.

“Where are the humans?” Lyra asked. “That road looks empty.”

“There's a school further up the road. Try looking there.” Apple Bloom pointed in that general direction.

Twilight nodded and narrowed her equine eyes. The image shifted and gradually spun away. Her horn sparked from strain and she grunted and dripped sweat from using so much magic. “Gah! It's so much harder to do this when our dimensions aren't properly aligned.”

Apple Bloom recognized the building, but the windows were boarded up and the front door had been busted down. It lay flat in the grass and wooden splinters swayed on now-useless hinges. She felt apprehensive looking at it.

“Twilight, can you look inside?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Sure, why not?” Twilight's face turned reddish as she strained herself to move the image. Inside, the rows of desks were covered in a thin layer of dust, but it was disturbed in places. Oddly, the blackboard was missing. A rectangular patch of clean white on the otherwise dirty wall marked its absence.

“It looks deserted,” Lyra said.

“That can't be a good sign,” Applejack said.

“Maybe they're all on summer vacation?” Apple Bloom asked.

“And maybe I'm just a goat living in Minotauria and this is all just a wacked-out, crazy, ice-cream dream.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Apple Bloom, even if they did close up the school for the summer, they wouldn't board the windows shut, and they certainly wouldn't bust down the door and remove the chalkboard.”

“That's mysterious and all, but can we check one of the malls?” Lyra asked. “I want to see the humans.”

Applejack glared at the mint unicorn. “Of course you'd want to—”

“Sure. Let me index this place and I'll change scenes. We do want to check on them, after all.” Twilight tightened her lips and rattled the toilet's lid. She made a hmming noise and dabbed the corner of a paper towel into the blue-stained water. The image shimmered and the water rippled as the school scene was sopped up into the towelette, leaving the water plain.

While Twilight worked, Lyra twisted around and straightened out the frayed ends of her torn tail. With a little magic, she made it look neat. That didn't last long as she jumped up and swished her tail back and forth across the floor when Twilight jiggled the toilet's handle. Another image focused into view, and they were all treated to a horror scene.

Sneezing, shambling, drooling ponies shuffled down the isle between storefronts. Their low, painful moans echoed through the building. Several of them attempted to wear shirts and pants, but the clothing wasn't cut right and looked too-tight in places, baggy in others, and was often dripping with sweat. One poor, pink colt had on a huge black leather jacket. He tripped on the dangling sleeves that completely covered his forelegs and trailed on the floor. His thud just added to the pile of ponies that laid in the hallway, barely moving. They all had red, bloodshot eyes and drooping, sad ears.

“What the hay happened here?” Applejack's eyes widened as she took in the pitiful scene.

“Why do they all look like zombies?” Apple Bloom asked. There was a worried edge to her voice. She had a sinking feeling that she already knew the answer to that question.

Lyra's eyes wandered around the scene. Her frazzled, silky, smooth tail stopped wagging and she raised a rough eyebrow. “Why are we looking at ponies? Where are all the humans?”

“That's... They're...” Twilight drew a short breath. Her eyes darted back and forth as she examined each and every one of the pitiful wretches that adorned the scene. Her left eye twitched. “Apple Bloom! They're all sick with pony fever! What have you done!?”

It felt like a knife jabbed her in the heart when Twilight's accusation mirrored her suspicions. “I, uh...” The longer she watched the shambling, sad ponies, the more her heart hurt. “Oh no. All the humans, they... They got sick and turned into ponies, and it's all my fault,” Apple Bloom whined. Her ears lost the support of her dwindling confidence, and they timidly drooped down while the little pony shrunk into a whimpering ball.

“Uh...” Applejack's mouth hung open. She shook her fuzzy, orange head and composed herself. “Wait, all the humans? Ya mean there aren't any left?”

“No humans!” Lyra shrieked.

“Whoa, calm down, Lyra.” Twilight winced and nearly lost the image. It shimmered and fizzled with magenta static before she grunted and brought it back into focus. She reached over and pulled the hairy potty's handle. “This is just one mall. Let me check the others. Humans are pretty resourceful. They probably have the outbreak under control.”

The blue water gurgled and churned, sloshing around. The image congealed into a white foam before swirling down and slurping away. The bowl gradually refilled, replenishing the blue-tinted fluid. Once the water settled, a new scene gradually came into focus. Twilight's horsey sweat dripped on the floor. Strained muscles in her cheeks developed a tic as her exhaustion caused them to spasm.

The mood was solemn as a very similar scene emerged. This next mall had colonial architecture, with white pillars lining the walkway and false steeples adorning the facades of the storefronts. A pair of stone gargoyles watched from atop a bookstore as sneezing, moaning ponies shambled past. The groans and aches of the populace made Apple Bloom wince. All of their suffering was her fault. She was the one who'd started the infection, and now the humans were paying the price.

Twilight tried five other malls before she collapsed from straining her magic too hard. All of them were full of plague victims. They didn't see a single human.

Applejack left to fetch a glass of water, while Lyra remained very still. She still stood there, with her muzzle dangling over the bowl, long after Twilight had turned off her magic and the image had faded.

“So...” Lyra finally turned away and stared at Twilight, whose soft, feathery wings twitched while she lay panting on the floor. “Is that it? Are we going to give up looking for humans?”

Twilight sighed. She made a token effort to get off the floor, but her weak knees gave out and she collapsed with her tongue lolling out. “Lyra, I’m way too exhausted to search beyond the landing zones, but from what we’ve seen, the outlook's not good. All of those merchandise centers were meticulously calculated to represent vastly different cultures in vastly different geographic regions. It was hard to see due to the artificial lighting, but it was actually past midnight at that third mall with the wooden façade. That’s why all the ponies there looked torpid—because they were trying to sleep. The fact that all of the malls have been contaminated so quickly leads me to conclude that they failed to contain the outbreak of pony fever. Thus, they’ve all likely succumbed, and I’m going to need this:”

With alicornian effort, Twilight forced her herself back up in a swift, sudden motion. She paused and groaned and one of her legs shuddered. Her head hung down while she gasped for breath and struggled to grasp at her elusive inner strength. Clenching her teeth, she jerked her flushed, sweaty head back. Her horn flared and left a streak of hot, magenta sparks as it arced through the tepid air.

The wall exploded in a huge cloud of plaster dust and fractured, porcelain tiles. The others scrambled to save their fuzzy rumps as a large bulletin board sailed through the freshly blasted hole.

“N-no!” Apple Bloom screeched. Despite the choking grit in the air, she rushed forward and threw her whole body against the wooden frame. Her tiny filly strength was no match for Twilight's immense magical force and she could no more move the bulletin board than she could stand on her head and lift the planet.

“Yes!”

Apple Bloom's ears and bow wilted and her heart lurched in her body as Twilight stormed up and tore off a two-digit number. In its place, she pinned up a big, fat zero.

The bulletin board now read, ‘Days since the last extinction event caused by Apple Bloom: 0.’

“Apple Bloom! Can you not even go one whole moon without wiping an entire species from existence!” Twilight's huggable barrel heaved as she loomed over the wilting filly.

“Humans... are extinct?” Lyra stood frozen in shock.

“Oh come on, Twilight! The event prior to this one wasn't even my fault! How was Ah supposed to know that yetis were so flammable?”

“Why were you even trying to light them on fire in the first place!” The sheer forcefulness of Twilight's voice whipped Apple Bloom's mane and splattered spittle across her face. Twilight slammed a hoof on the ground, cracking it and disturbing the plaster dust that was still trying to settle.

Apple Bloom winced and wiped her soiled muzzle. Tears watered her big, glossy eyes. “I'm sorry, Twilight. Ah promise I won't ever do it again.”

“Promise!? You promise!? Ackpth!” Twilight waved her forelegs in front of her. Veins bulged out on her neck and soft, fuzzy forehead. She was practically incoherent with ear-twitching little horsey rage. “That's what you said the last time, and the time before that! Of course you can't extinctify them any further—they're already extinct!”

“I said I'm sorry!” Apple Bloom crouched down and hid behind her hooves. “What else can Ah do?”

“How about not extinctifying things in the first place! When are you going to learn that you can't just eradicate beings from existence and expect to make it all better by saying 'sorry?' Sorry doesn't change the fact that you made pancakes with the last remaining golden goose eggs! Sorry can't undo the damage you caused when you watered the Tree of Harmony with bleach! Aaagh! And I don't even want to know how you managed to drown all those jellyfish!”

“But Twilight—”

“Don't you dare 'but, Twilight' me—” Twilight suddenly twisted and pointed a hoof at Applejack, who jumped, spilling her glass of water. “Applejack! She's your sister! Do something! Reprimand her!”

“Uh, okay...” Applejack's eyes darted around the room. Her ears drooped low and she slunk away from the irate princess. She looked as if she'd rather be anywhere else but where she was at the moment.

A broken pipe sticking out of the splintered hole in the wall sprayed a steady gush of water into the air. The stream mixed with the plaster, turning it into a slushy mud. Lyra had collapsed upon the floor and she was gushing water to rival the broken plumbing. By the time Applejack approached her wayward sister, she'd recovered her composure and wore an expression so hard that it could make nails pound themselves.

“Apple Bloom, Ah hate to do this, but Twilight's right. Y'all need more of an incentive to be careful in the future. As of right now, yer grounded for one week.”

“Grounded! But—”

“One week! That's it!?” Twilight swished both forelegs and a wing to point at the potty. “But that was all of humanity! Surely they deserve more than that!”

“Uh, okay...” Applejack gulped and fidgeted with her hat. “Apple Bloom, yer grounded for one week, and ya get no supper tonight!”

“No supper!? But Applejack, Ah'm hungry,” Apple Bloom whined. She stood up and stared at her sister with big, wide eyes. A tiny frown marred her little pony moth and a small, fuzzy ridge appeared as she sniffled.

Applejack's mouth hung open. Her limbs quavered against the onslaught of cuteness. “Uh, okay, you can have supper, but no ice cream! Yer definitely not getting ice cream!”

“Aw, okay,” Apple Bloom said. Both ponies tried to ignore the rhythmic thudding as Twilight repeatedly bashed her face against the nearest remaining wall. “Hey! You know what? Maybe Ah am gettin' better already. Ah mean, I extinctified the humans without killing any of them. That's got to count for something, right?”

“Hey, that's right!” Lyra pushed herself off the floor and shook herself like a wet dog, flinging the plaster dust off her coat and mane. Apple Bloom coughed when she inhaled part of that dust cloud. “Since the humans aren't dead, we can just get Twilight to turn them back to normal.”

Twilight took a deep breath, then coughed and hacked after sucking in too much of the tainted air. She groaned, sniffled, and wiped runy mucus from her nose. “Lyra, that sounds good in theory, but it's still thirty moons until our dimensions align closely enough for visitation to be safe. Once that happens, I'd only have time to transform a few hundred ponies into humans before I'd have to return. Their population numbers in the billions. Plus, they'd just revert back to ponies in the next flu season anyway. All of that ignores the detail that the portal itself would transform me into a human, and I wouldn't be able to use magic anyway. I'm not saying there isn't a way around that, but...”

Lyra stepped over to the hole in the wall and stuck her head out to get some fresh air. Well, as fresh as stale city air crusty with body odor, street grime, and the aroma of boiling carrot dog grease was, anyway. “This is all so surreal. Humans have always been a fascination of mine. I only just learned that they're real, and now they're gone forever?” She turned around and clopped over to the toilet. “This is all so sudden, not just for me, but for them too. Even if we can't bring their species back, there has to be something we can do to help.”

“Yer right, Lyra. We've been focusing on Apple Bloom, but there's a whole world that needs our help,” Applejack said.

“But it's just so vast. what can we do?” Twilight slowly walked over and joined Lyra. She stared at the toilet as if it were a dangerous beast. Applejack and Apple Bloom frowned and avoided looking directly at it. None of them had an answer to that question. What now?

Now What?

“Perhaps we can help thee with thine quandary!” A booming voice echoed throughout the damaged restroom.

Those gathered around the contrived plot device twisted and saw Princess Luna in her full dark regalia hovering in the air. The door creaked open, and Cadance and Celestia walked in as well. Applejack, Apple Bloom, and Lyra fell prone while Twilight perked up and unconsciously wagged her slightly frazzled, silky alicorn tail. “Luna! Celestia! Cadance! It's good to see you, but, what are you all doing here?”

Celestia's golden hoof plates clacked against the tiled floor. She had a warm smile on her face as she walked past the various machines, gateways and portals cluttering the bathroom. “Why hello there, Twilight. Apple Bloom told me that she may have infected the human world when she returned to wash her hooves. If we really are responsible for an interdimensional incident, which it sounds like, I thought it prudent to gather the full Equestrian council to best determine our response.”

“Yes, sorry.” Twilight hung her fuzzy, ear-drooping head. “Pony fever has completely overtaken their world. There isn't a single human being left.”

Cadance paused to stare at her humanized reflection in the purple-rimed mirror. For some reason, her human form had buck teeth and zits on her face. She frowned, then trotted over to join the others by the toilet.

Lyra jerked her head up. She glanced around the room and shuddered nervously as royal guards poured in from the hall to take up posts along the walls. Many of them stood proudly at attention between the urinals and sinks. “Psst, Twilight, do they have to be here?” Lyra whispered. She waved a hoof at the stoic, indomitable line of royal potty guards.

“But of course! They art royal guards. 'Tis only proper for them to join us.” Luna folded her wings and thudded between them. Apple Bloom, being the closest to the ground, got another lungful of plaster dust thanks to that awful lunar landing.

“You okay, sugarcube?” Applejack asked as her sister coughed and hacked. Apple Bloom sniffled and nodded, then ran over and huddled against her sister. They stepped back as the large alicorns gathered around, crowding the small space in the stall. Applejack flashed her sister a furtive smile. Reaching down, she wrapped a hoof around her sister and the warmth of the small filly's life seeped through their fuzzy hides and into her own body. It was hard to believe that such human-ending mayhem could from such a cute, little pony.

“Luna, why are you talking like that?” Twilight asked. “I thought you stopped with that old-timey dialect a long time ago.”

“Alas! 'Tis Luna talks like Luna day! We must speaketh in ye old butchertude 'till our moon circuits the sky and breaks in the 'morrow's light.” She dramatically covered her forehead with a cold, black-clad hoof.

“Oh. That makes sense... I guess.” Twilgiht blinked and swiveled her fuzzy, lavender ears forward. “Wait. No it doesn—”

“Twilight, we are not here to argue semantics. The former humans are in a dire situation, we must do what we can to ease their quandary.” Celestia nodded towards the toilet.

“Right! Of course.” Twilight dropped the subject and jiggled the potty's handle. She stuck her cute, moist tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she worked. Her tender horsey muscles tensed up and her horn sparked and sizzled. An image of a pony-infested mall rippled into focus.

While Celestia and Luna remained somber, Cadance gasped at the scene of sneezing, shambling, snot-encrusted equines wandering in the halls of the marble-pillared building. Static blared from the loudspeakers, and could be heard bubbling from the interdimensional bowl of potty water. The three alicorns activated their magic and joined Twilight in maintaining the connection, who visibly relaxed.

Twilight was the first one to speak. “Um, since we're all here, Lyra mentioned the possibility of turning them back into humans. I already told her the problems with attempting that manually, but if we were to develop some kind of counter-plague, a 'human pox' if you will—”

“Absolutely not!” Applejack stomped her hoof on the ground. “Twilight, Ah know ya mean well, but if that ever got loose in Equestria...”

Shudders abounded around the room. Apple Bloom shook the most. The thought of eating her own medicine, so to speak, was a chilling one.

“W-well, if we can't turn them back into humans...” Twilight's voice trailed off and her ears slowly drooped. She didn't want to finish that sentence, and nopony else did either.

Outside, the occasional Manehatten suburbanite would stop and gander at the peculiar hole in the visitor center's wall and the gathering of royal ponies inside staring at a toilet. Manehatten is no place for slouchers, though, and the city dwellers would just shake their self-important heads before moving on with the hustle of their daily lives.

“It's not all bad, right? I mean, when we visit, we can still be humans while we're there, right?” Lyra asked.

Applejack raised her signature eyebrow, and she was surrounded by numerous other ponies who wore similar expressions.

Lyra's goofy grin went flat, packed up, and left for a tropical vacation. “Oh. You're right. That would be pretty dumb. They'd be kinda resentful if we played tourist and flaunted what they'd lost. And besides, I'm not sure I'd want to be the only human present in a world full of ponies. The more I think about it, the stupider that sounds.”

Twilight took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “You're right, Lyra. We'll have to close the place to tourism for good.” Her head slunk down and tears welled in her eyes. She winced and bit her lip to avoid crying out.

Cadance stepped over and wrapped a feathery, pink wing around Twilight in a soft, rustling, ticklish embrace. “Twilight, I'm sorry that your pet research project got ruined. I know how much work you—”

“What? No! It's not that!” Twilight jerked up and pushed Cadance aside with her own wing. “It's... well...” She sighed and hung her head again. “Okay, so it is that, but I should be feeling sorry for the humans instead. They're the ones who are really suffering from this.”

“ 'Tis true, but there art no reason for thee to abandon thy research. Yonder humans might be ended, but their works still persist. In fact, they now conformeth to the equine form. Thus, future adaptations of their shiny doohickeys shall conformeth to us as well.”

“Perhaps, but that assumes they'll even be able to do that much. Everything I've seen so far shows that their technology is heavily dependent on having, well, hands.” Twilight shifted the image towards a wall lined with movie posters. The humans captured by the camera held things like chainsaws, guns, and cell phones in their steel-knuckled grips. The red-eyed, drooling pony lumps groaning on the floor looked pathetic compared to the oiled, muscular movie actors.

“The loss of hands isn't much of an obstacle to a unicorn, though,” Cadance said.

“Except that there aren't any! In all the places I've looked, I've yet to see a single unicorn or pegasus,” Twilight said.

“Wait, so you're saying that all of the Earth ponies are earth ponies?” Lyra asked.

The others snickered.

“Uh, I meant to say—”

“We know what you meant, dear,” Princess Celestia said, “and it does pose a unique problem for their world. However, it is one that we can solve. With a sizable contingent of the unicorn and pegasus royal guard, I could go their world and—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold it right there, Princess.” Applejack held up a hoof and shook her head. “It's bad enough that we've gone and turned them all into ponies, but now ya wanna bring an army too? Don't ya think they'd get the wrong impression? From their viewpoint, it'd look like we'd be kinda-sorta conquerin' them.”

“What? No! we'd only mean to help. Surely they'd understand our intentions.”

“Yeah, help by tinkerin' with magic and controlin' all the weather. Ya know, things they can't do as earth ponies.” Applejack rolled her eyes. Apple Bloom nodded since the others were looking in their direction.

“Applejack maketh a fine point. Even with intentions as whole as thine, simply providing such services would resulteth in an unfortunate monopoly of power. Humans were never magical to begin with, so talents such as those would feel alien and imposing upon their world. Mayhaps we should rethink interfering at all.”

“Do nothing!?” Cadance frowned while staring into the toilet. “But look how miserable they are! Even if we can't help them overtly there has to be something we can do.”

Apple Bloom walked over and tried to find an open spot to look into the toilet, but the available space was occupied. She wound up ducking between Cadance's legs and popping up in front of her. The pink princess giggled at the soft brush of fur against her sensitive, fuzzy underside.

“Are you thinking of just sending a few ponies?” Twilight asked. “What good would that do?”

“Twilight, you and your friends have accomplished many great deeds. Plus Spike—”

A sharp crack shook the foundation of the lavatory. Everypony tensed up. Many colored eyes scanned the room. Several devices beeped and buzzed, whirring with an ethereal hum. Despite having a hole in the wall through which the sun was shining, shadows grew longer, grasping at their hosts and damaging the colors in the room.

“What the hay is goin' on!?” Applejack lifted a hoof, and her fuzzy orange tint detached and hung free in the air. Her limb was nearly devoid of the sensation color; it looked like a glass wind chime sounded. It hurt the brain to gaze upon.

“Over there!” Twilight pointed a scratch-and-sniff, lemon-scented hoof at the stone arches. The portal in the center of the stone hedgerow took on a life of its own. It stretched and twisted, reforming itself from an ovular tear in reality to hand-shaped tear in reality complete with huge, sharp, talons. Everything the starry claws touched got shredded and mangled into individual components of sight, touch, smell, taste, and sound. Swirls of confused sensations addled the brain. The mere presence of the beast had similar but lesser impact on the rest of the room.

Twilight's eyes grew lavender. “It's a porterghast! It must be attracted to our dimensional magic. Don't let it touch you or the effect will be permanent!”

“Ah don't plan on it!” Applejack reached under her hat to grab her rope, but what she got was the taste of squirming spaghetti.

Around the room, the royal guards sprung into action. The princesses were in danger!

Long, grueling months of training, weeks of intense physical workouts, days of pure torture, practicing the same moves again and again and again, it all came down to this one moment. Hours of professional posturing, hours of boredom, hours of vigilance had been broken in this single instant. These stallions were Equestria's finest, and they would do whatever they must to keep their kingdom safe.

With a fate worse than death looming before them, they resigned themselves to their duty. Heads held high, they thought not of the danger, but of their training. The actual presence of a monster made no difference. Before they could even think, decades of muscle memory drilled into their hides pulled them into action. In perfect synchronized motion, these proud, professional, elite, highly-trained, royal guards did what only ponies of their sheer caliber were capable of. In the blink of an eye, each and every single one of them dropped his weapon and hid behind Twilight Sparkle. Truly, no kingdom was in better hooves.

“What are you—nevermind. Get down!” Twilight's husky fuzziness yellowed. Her sticky, honey-scented magic formed a spherical buzz around the intradimensional being. Black rage frothed in the boundary, as sharp oblivion talons scraped against the magical prison. A magenta glow outlined the beast which thrashed against the bubble.

Twilight grit and bared her pearly white teeth. Her horn roared with the festive flair of a Roamhoof candle, bathing the area in sparkling magenta streaks. The other ponies breathed a collective sigh of relief as normalcy returned to the bathroom. With the monster trapped in her magic, Twilight pulled it towards her. Her spherical glowing prison seemingly shrunk as it came towards her, refusing to adjust its apparent size in relation to distance.

She plopped the writhing bead of lemon-papered chaos into the toilet and pulled the handle. The rush of water broke the image on the surface, and the beast pressed at its cage, pounding in daisies as it swirled around and finally gurgled out of sight down the plumbing.

“Uh...” Applejack raised a hoof, but shut her mouth and set it back down.

Twilight turned her attention to the scars left behind by the beast's rampage. The stone circle had been broken by what could only be described as a mass of living headache. Twilight's powerful magic scraped away the shredded fabric of the universe, and she flushed that down the toilet too.

“Did you just send all that stuff to the human world?” Lyra asked.

“Well... sort of?” Twilight examined the room and nodded to herself once she was satisfied that the integrity of the universe had been restored. “Since our dimensions aren't in alignment, anything sent there can't manifest fully. It'll be stuck behind the veil, forever doomed to lurk in dark, shadowy whispers, just beyond the realm of perception by sane minds, along with all the other crap we send there during the off season.”

Lyra shuffled uneasily on her mint, fuzzy legs. “Well, I guess that sound okay... Wait a minute! What other crap?”

“Well, it is a toilet.” Twilight pointed at the plot device, but her eyes caught sight of a huge, haphazard pile of royal guardponies bravely cluttering up the floor. Her left eye twitched and a tic appeared on her warm, silky cheek. “You guys! What the hay was that!?”

With extreme discipline, the guardsponies simultaneously averted their eyes and whistled nonchalantly. Princess Cadance poked the pile with a stick. It shifted, revealing a very distinctive smooth, flowing, silky pastel mane.

“Celestia! What are you doing hiding in there?” Twilight asked.

Celestia looked up with a sheepish grin on her soft, pony face. “Well, somepony has to lead the guards.” This was followed by a hollow thud, as Twilight planted a hoof on her face.

Applejack rubbed her once-again orange leg. Her fur was frazzled but otherwise intact. “Twilight, if ya don't mind my askin', what was that thing?”

“I'm sorry, Applejack, but your guess is as good as mine. All we really know about the porterghast is that they're attracted to prolonged use of powerful magic and tend to possess dimensional gateways. Everything else you saw for yourself.”

Luna walked around the bathroom, inspecting the scars gouged in the floor by the beast and Twilight's magic. That damage was minor compared to the smoking, smouldering remains of the other devices in the room. They reacted poorly to the presence of the monster and most melted down. “Thou hast conquered the beast but thou payest the price with the loss of thine other research projects. 'Tis a shame.”

“At least it's not my fault this time,” Apple Bloom said.

“All in favor of blaming this on Apple Bloom?” Twilight asked. She raised a hoof over her head. Everypony else did as well.

“Hey!” The little filly scrunched up her face and snorted.

After lowering her hoof, Lyra edged closer to the toilet. Without any magic powering the bowl it looked just like any other hairy potty in the colt's room. She gave a wary glance at the guards who were slowly disentangling themselves, retrieving their weapons, and resuming their guard-like stances by the urinals. “I'm glad that monster's gone, but we still haven't figured out what to do about the former human world.”

“We were talking about sending Twilight and her friends,” Cadance said.

“Well, I could go, but apparently the Equestrian military is completely useless. Their only strategy appears to be letting me do all the work! If I take my friends and leave for thirty moons, the whole country could be smouldering ruins by the time we got back!” Twilight flew around and glared at the royal urinal guards, who bravely stood there acting guard-like.

“Please don't bother the guards, Twilight,” Celestia said. “To be fair, it is an effective strategy.”

“One that requires me to be here at all times! Do you have any sort of backup plan if some monster invades and my tail isn't available to hide behind?”

Princess Cadance set down a long, warped pole that she'd been rubbing her fuzzy pink back with. “Well, Shiny and I do have a giant Twilight plushie we could let them hide behind instead. Actually, it's something that we personally like to get behind on a frequent basis, if you know what I mean.” With a half-lidded smile, she winked at Twilight, who's own eyes widened. “It even vibrates when we rut—”

“Gah!” Twilight's fuzzy face flamed from within and she buried her head under her wings.

Luna firmly clacked a hoof on the floor. “Dearest Cadance, dost thou thinkest that now 'tis not the proper time to traumatize thy sister-in-law with tales of thine sex life?”

Apple Bloom brushed up against her sister's leg. The little filly had wide, orange eyes. They held specks of reflected light that shimmered in mirror with her fuzzy, little curiosity. “Sis, what are they talkin' about?”

“Nothing! They're talkin' about nothing!” Applejack flattened her ears against her head and slammed the bathroom tiles with the fury of a fuzzy sledgehammer. Everypony jumped back from her outburst. “Y'all ought to ashamed of yerselves talkin' about that in front of an impressionable young filly! We're here to talk about the humans or have y'all forgotten about that!?”

Other ponies' soft, tender ears drooped from the stinging reprisal. Lyra sniffled, then her ears perked up. “Hey, I just thought of something. What if their pony transformation is just temporary? Maybe they'll revert back once the fever dies down.”

Twilight folded her wings back up and took a deep breath. “Well, that is a thought, but the problem with that is that we're inherently magical. Even without a magic fever, the average pony can easily sustain a transformation that's already established. It's as natural as breathing! The only way they'd revert back would be if they're not real ponies, just look-alikes.”

“Y'all think that's worth checking?” Applejack asked. She sniffed the air and snorted at the lingering odor of plaster dust, toilet moisture, and the open streets of Manehatten. The overhead lights flickered, sputtered and went out, plunging much of the restroom into deep shadow. The only light came from glints off of metal scraps, pipes, and the guards' golden uniforms. Lyra bumped against something in the darkness and let out a girly shriek. Applejack winced and scrunched up her fuzzy face. She straightened her hat back out once her fuzzy ears stopped ringing. “Ah mean, that monster sure did a number on this place.”

The alicorns and Lyra lit their spiral horns with magic, giving off shimmering multi-hued glows that danced on the walls. Celestia stepped towards the open hole in the wall and adjusted the sun so that they'd have better light. Twilight walked back to the toilet—giving Cadance a wide berth—and jiggled the handle. “After the destruction of the rest of my equipment, we shouldn't have any more problems with porterghasts, I think. Luna, can you watch our backs?”

“There is no need for that, Twilight. Should our professional guardsponies pileth behind yonder backside, thou should knoweth that a problem hast arisen.”

“Gee, I feel so much safer with them here.” Twilight rolled her large equine eyes. “Well, it's a good thing that I bookmarked Apple Bloom's landing point. Once we power the toilet back up, all we'll have to do is find a pony.”

“—or human,” Lyra added. She had a huge, toothy grin. Her fuzzy, mint flanks were heaving and her eyes darted around. She kept looking behind her at the guardsponies by the sinks and urinals and the large, dancing shadows they cast in the ephemeral magic light.

“Ah sure hope we'll find a human. That would mean I hadn't extinctified them, after all.” Apple Bloom ran over to the potty and poked her fuzzy nose over the rim.

Twilight grunted and flared her magic. She levitated her slightly dusty towlette and touched it to the surface of the water. An image of the human world poured out into the water. The abandoned schoolhouse returned, and with the help of the other alicorns she pulled the picture back out to the empty, dirt road. The image was quite dark in the night, and the poor light in the bathroom didn't help any.

“I think I see tracks. Something skinny was dragged through the dirt out the door.” Lyra frowned, then pointed at the potty water. “Can you follow the road up?”

“I can, but let me zoom out to get a better view.” Even with help from the others, Twilight still struggled with the magic. Tiny beads of horsey sweat were once again rolling down her weary, fuzzy hide. The image lurched and tilted at a slight angle before pulling back. Once zoomed out, Twilight stopped to pant before guiding it north. All of the ponies huddled around the plot device, hoping to catch some sign of life outside of the dying grass and chirping crickets.

Apple Bloom reared up, with her forelegs on the potty's dirty seat. She bumped against Celestia who stood over her. After a startled glance, she pointed into the toilet. “Over there, on the side of that hill to the left, I think I see somepony.”

Twilight nodded and zoomed in.

Apple Bloom's face and bow wilted as the figure started to come into focus. “And it is a pony.” Sure enough, a peachy pony with bluish hair sat amongst the dry grasses. She was wearing a reddish bow and it was difficult to see in the dim light, but she also had some kind of rectangular image on her flank. “She's wearing my missing bow! And she has a cutie mark!”

“A cutie mark? That's proof of magic right there. Sorry, Apple Bloom, but it looks like they are real ponies, after all,” Twilight said.

The Equestrian ponies generally frowned and averted their eyes. They didn't want to look at each other. Lyra sniffled and curled up on the floor to cry softly. This elicited a warm nuzzle and a feathery wing-hug from Celestia.

“So... now what?” Cadance asked. “We're right back where we started, and still don't have any idea what we should do.”

“Actually, we came up with several ideas. They could all potentially help, but it wouldn't do any good if the locals responded poorly. I mean, do the former humans even want our help?” Twilight looked up at a splintered ceiling tile and sighed. “I just wish we had some sort of sign.”

“Twilight, you might get yer wish. It looks like the former human wants to say something,” Applejack said.

Sure enough, the peachy pony got up. She walked to the top the hill, and stared straight at them through the toilet, but had stars reflected in her big, glossy eyes. She took a deep breath, and everypony eagerly awaited her message.

Iponi's Word

The day before she walked out to the hill, Simangele awoke to the sound of an equine groaning in frustration. It was her. She snorted. No matter how many times she heard herself, she just couldn't get used to horse noises.

Kicking off the grungy towel she'd been using as a blanket, she rolled off the schoolhouse's battered, stinky couch and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The fuzziness of her fetlocks didn't bother her as much as it used to, but she still hated her lack of hands. Her peachy hooves were more dexterous than they looked, but they were still useless lumps compared to actual fingers. It was like trying to manipulate things with only her wrists. It was awful.

Everything was awful.

How long had it been since that terrible day Iponi had brought her curse down upon the world? Two, three, four weeks? Most of her time had been spent living in a feverish haze, and the days and nights blurred together. She'd lost track of the passage of time. Not that it mattered. Not that anything mattered.

She smacked her pony lips and ran her tongue around her mouth. It all felt so different. What had she done to deserve this? Some urges were still the same, though. She wandered into the bathroom to use the facilities. She swatted the light switch with a hoof and the room brightened. At least the electricity hadn't gone out, though she wondered how long that would last.

A peach colored pony with curly, sky blue hair streaked with navy blue accents stood before her. Its big, glossy eyes were half-wet with tears and it was sad with droopy ears and a big frown. That fuzzy face didn't look nearly as cute when it was the one staring back at her in the mirror.

What was the point? What was the point of everything? She lingered there, hot breath fogging up the mirror. Since this whole thing began, she had locked and boarded herself up in the schoolhouse. Windows were barred and shuttered. She had hoped that she was the only one to get sick, but that hope had long since died.

Nobody had once knocked on the door.

Simangele debated turning on the radio. She had a ham license, but why bother? All she could do was neigh into the device, and all she got back were confused neighs in response. English, Zulu, Afrikaans... What did it matter how many languages she knew when she couldn't pronounce a single word from any of them? Well, that wasn't quite true. She puckered up her lips and blew, “P-p-neigh.”

It was the only word she knew. It was the word that had been taught to her by Iponi herself. Iponi...

Simangele had plenty of time to ponder, and still, she had no answers. The only thing she was certain of was that Iponi had to be a god. Why had she come? Why here, specifically? What was her plan? Did she hate humans? She didn't seem to. Why did she look so young? Why did she bring the disease down upon herself as well? Why did she leave her red bow behind?

Reaching down, Simangele picked up the silky ribbon with both of her front hooves. It was a little dusty, but the bright red was a cheerful color. She blew it clean and tacked it onto her mane behind her head. It looked, well, cheery. She twisted her neck back and forth, looking at herself from different angles. She liked it. In the mirror, she watched the corners of her mouth turn up. That was the first time she'd smiled since she transformed. It ended quickly, though, as she had no reason to be happy.

With a deep sigh, she pushed herself away from the vanity and hung her head. Bow or no bow, the world was doomed, and it was all Iponi's doing.

A spot of colored paper behind the toilet caught Simangele's attention. Frowning, she reached a hoof back there and slid it out. She tried to ignore the hairs, dust, and cobwebs lingering there. Her green eyes widened at the sight of a pamphlet. The cover showed two ponies having a grand time sliding down a waterslide, one of whom had a horn on its head. The lettering was colorful, but completely alien to her. Wait, that wasn't quite right. She'd seen lettering very similar to that once before.

She had a hard time coaxing the paper off the floor, but once she'd grabbed it, she stuffed it in her mane and ran out to the classroom. There, on the blackboard, was Iponi's own handwriting. The word she'd written under the pony diagram was still clearly visible. Simangele carefully pulled out the brochure. The style was crude, but she found a matching letter on the pamphlet's cover.

This... was profound.

She was holding in her hooves a message, well, it was more like a symbol. But it was from Iponi. It was from God. This must be the hallowed land from which Iponi had descended. If the ponies in heaven had been able to build a waterpark and print fliers for it, then they were just as advanced as humans! The ponies on Earth had a divine right to their luxuries. Society didn't have to collapse, after all!

Simangele wanted to kick down her door and gallop out, screaming this divine message of hope to all who would listen. She couldn't, though, because she couldn't speak.

She was a horse.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

Why leave behind such tantalizing evidence of a happy hallowed land, but take away the one thing that mattered most: speech? Communication was still possible, but awkward, and only amongst the literate. That wasn't enough to keep society running, especially with the loss of hands too.

Muttering random noises under her breath, Simangele turned away from the blackboard and sat down at her desk. She had to uncomfortably twist sideways to keep her tail from being pinched in chair's seat back. She pushed aside a stack of ungraded papers and dropped the pamphlet on the table. She struggled, but managed to get it open. The more she worked with her hooves, the easier such things became.

The implications of that bothered her, but she pushed away her ever-growing familiarity with her new skin and focused on the message from God. Inside, the pamphlet showed pictures of wave pools, fountains, log flumes, and some sort of rainbow-colored waterfall. There was more text, but she ignored that to look at the ponies. Many of them were partially dressed, wearing only a hat, sunglasses, a saddle, or flotation bracelets. That was odd, but odder still were the strange symbols on their thighs. They looked like icons or brand logos. Only the small ponies didn't have them. What was that all about? And why did some of them have horns and some of them have wings?

Shrugging, she glanced back at her own peachy flank. It was blank, but it still bothered her to look at that body and think of it as herself.

Turning her attention back to the pamphlet, she flipped it over to look at the back. A blue pony with wings was hovering in the air winking at the camera. He had his mouth open to speak. There was black text on a white background drawn in an oval with a line pointed at the pony's open mouth.

Simangele gasped. Suddenly, it all came rushing back to her. The first thing Iponi had done when they'd opened the door was speak to her. She'd dismissed it at the time because she couldn't understand, but now that she knew, she practically shook with enlightenment. What Iponi had been trying to say wasn't what mattered. The simple fact that she could speak was. Simangele closed her eyes. She could vaguely remember some of the noises that Iponi had made.

Taking a deep breath, she tried repeating what she could remember. Her voice sounded alien and equine, but she articulated a large variety of sounds and inflections. She set down the pamphlet and stared up at the ceiling. Wherever Iponi had gone, she gave her silent thanks for leaving behind such hope. Well, hope alone wasn't going to help. She had work to do.

Pulling out a piece of paper, she carefully copied down the word Iponi had written on the blackboard. She put both that and the pamphlet in a safe place. It felt like sacrilege to erase the blackboard, but she needed the space. Grabbing chalk in her mouth, she wrote down each letter of the alphabet. Now, all she needed to do was map a new set of sounds to each letter. It was a daunting task, but it was one that had been given to her by God herself. Simangele narrowed her eyes and snorted. If there was ever any per—, er, pony up for that task, it was her.

The next day, Simangele grunted as she carted the blackboard into town. It was large, heavy and awkward. In the back of her mind, though, she pictured the three men who'd installed it; she'd removed it by herself. She paused and shook her head. Sure, she was stronger, but that was hardly worth the price of what she'd lost.

With a final heave, the cart lurched over a pesky rock as she pulled it off the road. She hadn't been in town in quite some time and, to be frank, she was disheartened by what she saw. Some houses were boarded up, except for splinters of wood swaying in the breeze where the doors used to be. Ponies lurked in the shadows, snorting and shaking their heads. She couldn't recognize a single face.

She should have expected that, she really should, but seeing it for the first time drove home just how much everything had changed. It was unnatural. They all looked alien. Who were these ponies? Were they even the same persons they were before? Was she? She sniffled and rubbed at her baggy eyes. Perhaps it was her lack of sleep thinking, but she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Was her effort feeble? Was it all hopeless? Could she even make a difference?

A whimper caught her attention.

A small brown colt with yellow freckles blinked at her. Holding a stick in his mouth, he scratched the words 'help us' over and over again in the dirt.

Simangele's heart bled. She hung her head and cried. The poor child was just pathetic; she couldn't help herself. His rust-streaked pink mane was tattered and disheveled and he smelled as if he hadn't bathed in a month. That wasn't right. Nothing was right, but that's how things were.

With a deep breath to compose herself, she gave the child a stern look and grinned. He wanted help? Well, that was exactly why she'd come. Reaching behind her neck, she felt the comforting presence of Iponi's bow. Her Goddess was watching over her, and Iponi had loved her teaching. She knew she was doing the right thing. If the only one she could help was this little pony before her, then all of her effort would be worth it.

Straining herself, she dragged the blackboard out of the cart and leaned it up against a terracotta wall. Walking back, she inspected it to ensure that everything was still legible. Thankfully, her scrawlings had survived the journey intact. Pulling her favorite triangle out of her mane, she held it at hoof's length and gave it a good ring.

The colt dropped his stick and sat down. He blinked his green eyes at her. Other faces appeared in windows, but he remained alone in the street.

Frowning, Simangele rang the triangle harder. A few more children ran out, joining the other one to sit in the street. Three, four, five... five. She rang her triangle again. This time, they finally got the hint. A flood of small equines poured out of the buildings and sat before her. Several adults even came out as well. With one last ring, she waited for those who'd come to settle down. Based on a quick headcount, about half the town had shown up, including most of the children.

She tapped on the blackboard, pointing at the letter 'A' and the phonetic scrawling next to it. She pointed at herself, took a deep breath, and pronounced the sound that she'd chosen to replace it. She pointed at her audience. They sat there, blinking. A tumbleweed rolled by.

Simangele pointed back at herself and repeated her sound. She pointed back again, but this time, she started making that noise from her mouth and drew the sound out slowly. A yellow filly with flat red hair, similar in appearance to Iponi but with blue eyes instead of orange, made a squeaking sound then tried again and matched the noise Simangele had made.

Nodding, the peach-colored teacher repeated her actions until all of the children had joined in. The adults glanced at each other from the back row. Simangele moved on down the alphabet. By the third letter, the adults had joined in too. By the fifth, the noise everypony was making drew out more ponies from their sulking places.

It was exhilarating. Simangele had always loved teaching, but this was the first time she'd drawn such a large and rapt audience. The fact that she'd created the subject matter entirely from scratch was just icing on the cake. With renewed vigor, she repeated the entire lesson from the start. Repetition was a great memory enhancer.

Ponies suddenly gasped, and she was cut off mid 'G.'

Blinking, she couldn't fathom what the disturbance had been. Was there something offensive about her choice of sound for the letter 'G?' The tan colt raised his arm, er, foreleg. She pointed at him. He pointed back, glanced at the chalkboard, and worked out three sounds, the middle one being drawn-out.

Simangele knew the sounds by heart, but it took her a moment to piece together which letters they referred to: 'L,' 'O,' and 'K.' But the middle letter was drawn out, so that probably meant he was trying to say, 'look.' A huge grin plastered on her face. If he was actually able to speak and get his message across then this was proof that her plan had worked.

Oh! He'd said 'look' and he'd pointed at her.

Simangele twisted her flexible equine neck back, and her fuzzy jaw dropped. There, on her thigh, was a picture of a chalkboard with the letters 'ABC' written on it diagonally. It was simplistic, but detailed enough that there was no questioning what it was. She rubbed at her hide, but the picture had seemingly replaced her original fur color. It didn't come off.

A chill crept down her spine. That picture was similar to the ones she'd seen in the brochure. She glanced at her side then crossed her eyes and felt at her smooth, fuzzy forehead. No wings—no horn. Did those things come later? None of the townsfolk had either of those body parts. That mark on her hide certainly meant... something. What, she had no idea. Iponi left many things behind, most of which were mysteries.

All Simangele could do was shrug. She tapped on the chalkboard and resumed her lesson.

By the end of the day, Simangele could barely stand. Her flanks heaved. She panted and flopped down under the stars in a grassy field. The townsfolk, while not exactly talking, were certainly making noises at each other. It was a start, but it would take far more than a single day for her new set of phonetics to sink in. To make things even sweeter, one of her children had been recording her lecture and was probably posting videos online, assuming that the internet still worked, of course. She wished that she knew the colt's name.

Tomorrow, she would get them to pronounce their names.

This... new life of hers. She hadn't asked for it. Nobody had. Turn all the humans on Earth into colorful ponies? Who could ever want such a ridiculous thing? Yet... it had happened. All she could do was make the best of it.

No. She could do more than that. Way more.

Despite her aching weariness, she forced herself to get back up and wandered to the top of a nearby hill. Staring up at the stars, she knew that she'd been given the opportunity of a thousand lifetimes. She'd been visited by God herself, and had the duty to spread Her message, whatever that might be.

The sky was clear enough to see a hint of the Milky Way, the very galaxy in which she resided. But even that was just a blip compared to the enigma of the Divine Pony. Iponi had only ever said one word. It was a word that heralded destruction, but it was also proof of redemption. In the years to come, it would form the backbone of their new religion. Disciples of Iponi would chant that word with reverence, for it was the word that changed the world.

Simangele took a deep breath to shout that word out to the whole of existence. Were the Gods above watching and listening? They were, but Simangele did not know that. Had she known, she would have yelled even louder.

“P-P-NEIGH!”

“GO FUCK YOURSELF WITH A CACTUS!”

The incredibly offensive, yet highly-specific curse word carried loud and clear through the toilet and bounced through the room like flaming popcorn. All four princesses of Equestria dropped their jaws and reared back in shock. Twilight had asked if the transformed humans had wanted their assistance, and, well, she'd gotten an answer. She quickly jiggled the handle and turned the connection off lest that word be repeated.

“W-well...” Luna adjusted her neck piece and straightened up her crown. “That sounds like it's more up thine alley, Cadance.”

“My alley?” the pink pony princess perfunctually probed.

“Of course. Thou art the one adept at all forms of love. Shall I send somepony to fetch thee a cactus?”

Apple Bloom suddenly tensed up. “Not me! Ah'm through with cacti! Find somepony else to carry them!”

Apple Bloom's outburst broke through the tension in the room. Applejack giggled, and soon, everypony was laughing. The situation was far from humorous, but it was hard to swallow the fact they were both responsible and powerless to help. The mirth was a good outlet for their anxiety, and chests heaved while fuzzy ponies snortled on the floor. Even Lyra managed a smile.

Celestia was the first to get back up. With a sigh, she pointed at the toilet. “Well, you asked for a sign, and we received one. Rude as it was, I think it's best that we respect the former human's decision. Our meddling, after all, is what caused this whole problem in the first place. We'll continue to monitor this world, but if no further crisis develops over the thirty moon interval, we'll let them work things out for themselves.”

The others nodded, deferring to Celestia's wisdom. For better or worse, the Earth was on its own.

Humanity might have been broken and replaced, but in the end, what they were was close enough. They could still adapt, learn, and grow. Pants, or no pants, the world was theirs. All they had to do was pony up and take it like a man.