[Mainframe]by RidiculousPonyChapters[Marvel][Mirage][Mania][Mainframe][Metamorphosis][Moment][Marvel]“When a distinguished but elderly scholar states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong.” On the southwest edge of Equestria, on the fringe of Celestia’s influence, the TerraSalva mining operation ran at full capacity. The current expedition followed a profitable vein of gold when an Earth Pony miner’s pick broke into a large chamber. “Hey, boss! Y’all gonna want to see this.” “What now? This better not be another joke comparing some rock you found to somepony’s mother.” “No ma’am. This’n is serious. I found, like, a cave. But it has words ‘n things on the walls.” “Huh? Step aside. Lemme see.” The Unicorn foremare leaned in and shined her headlamp into the opening. The natural cave walls had been covered from floor to ceiling in crude etchings and pictographs. Skeletons of long-dead ponies littered the room, some still clutching chisels with their teeth. Whoo-wee! she whistled. “Yup, this is above our pay-grade, fellas. Everypony back off. I’m closing this branch off until we get new orders from the big-wigs.” She turned away and ushered the others out of the passage. Behind her, in the darkness of the cavern, fragments of pale blue light flickered to life. For a moment they illuminated a towering shape in the center of the room, then the room went dark again. Three months later, an unmarked train arrived in Canterlot in the middle of the night. Two Royal Guards escorted an elderly dark-blue Unicorn to the station. “Why was it scheduled to arrive so late at night?” Blue Moon whined. “I’m too old for this.” A Pegasus guard replied, “For security. We had to shut down the station while we unload the… Object. It was better now than when ponies actually needed to use the station.” “Oh, very well. Though I doubt this thing needs that much security. I’m the premiere expert on primitive societies, and they are just that: primitive. I bet it’s some savage king’s attempt at a throne or—” He cut off when he saw the scale of the tarp-covered Object. A crane had lifted it from the train and eight burly Earth Ponies maneuvered it into place on a large cart. Each dimension of the massive rectangular block was twice that of the largest Earth Pony porter. By the trouble it was giving the porters, it appeared to weigh several tons. “Huh.” Blue Moon was speechless. Once the Object settled, he approached the cart. Almost immediately, a blue light emanated from under the tarp. Blue Moon and the porters leapt back, startled by the unexpected light. The Pegasus guard spoke up, “The mining company said that it would do that whenever a Unicorn gets near. Pay it no mind. Let’s get a move on. I got another shift in a few hours and I want to get some sleep first.” All eight porters strapped themselves into harnesses and pulled. They strained against the weight until the cart finally crept up the hill toward the castle. “I guess I’m walking,” Blue Moon muttered. He had hoped to ride on the cart but he doubted they could handle any more weight. “Of course I’m upset! After four months of research, we have nothing to show for it.” Blue Moon gestured at the walls of the room, covered in notes and formulas. “Want to hear the sum of all of our efforts? ‘It glows when a Unicorn is near.’ The miners figured that one out on the first day! For all I know, it’s just an elaborate night-light.” He ran a hoof through his thinning white hair and calmed himself. He bowed deeply. “I’m sorry, Princess, for my anger and my failure. It is impossible to learn anything more from that artifact. I’m withdrawing from the project.” Princess Celestia smiled warmly. “There’s no need to apologize, Blue Moon. There was never any guarantee that there would be anything to learn in the first place. Thank you for your efforts so far, but I have one favor to ask of you.” Blue Moon tilted his head. “Of course, Princess. I suspect you want an expense report? I’d understand if you wanted me to hoof some of the bill for this failure…” “Oh, no, nothing like that,” Celestia tittered. “I just want you to be available as a consultant, just part-time, for any future researchers that have questions. In particular, I’d like you to lend your experience to my former student Twilight Sparkle. She’ll be arriving tomorrow to join the research team.” “Omigosh, omigosh! I’m so excited!” Twilight Sparkle enthused. “We know, sugarcube. Now can ya please stop flappin’ around above our heads? Yer actin’ a little ‘Rainbow Dash’ at the moment,” said Applejack, unenthused. Rainbow Dash bristled. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!? It’s totally cool to show your excitement sometimes.” Rarity raised a hoof. “I believe Applejack’s qualm, and my own, is with how Twilight is showing her excitement by flying around inside a train.” She looked up at Twilight Sparkle. “Please settle down, dear. We’re almost to Canterlot and there wouldn’t be enough time to fix my mane if your flying musses it up.” Twilight sat down in her seat but continued to wiggle and fidget for the rest of the ride. “While you three are merely making a day trip of this, I am going to be lead researcher on a project. Lead. Researcher. This is huge!” “Yes, and we are all very proud of you. Don’t forget to call us if you want any emotional support,” Rarity said, then quietly added, “I’d love an excuse to visit Canterlot again…” After the train arrived in Canterlot, the four ponies stopped at a small cafe for lunch before going their separate ways. “It’sh sho lucky tha’ old researcha guy left,” Rainbow Dash said over a half-chewed bite of sandwich. Thankfully, she swallowed before continuing, “I bet some young blood is what that project needed all along.” Twilight’s perpetual grin widened. “I know! Not to shine my own horn, but I bet I can make some serious progress on whatever this project is before I go to sleep tonight.” At the entrance to the castle, Twilight met the curmudgeonly Blue Moon and he guided her down winding hallways to the secure research lab deep under Canterlot Castle. “As you can see, this research is being kept secret. Do not tell your friends, do not talk about it outside of the lab, and do not tell the media. I can’t believe I have to say that, but kids these days have no concept of discretion.” In the lab, she met the assistant researchers. Turquoise Star was a Unicorn stallion with a coat and mane matching his name, Ginseng Rose was a rare Earth Pony scholar who had a green mane and dusky-pink coat, and Cobalt Thorn was a pale blue Unicorn with a dark mane who was far scrawnier than his name suggested. “We get to be on the forefront of discovery, to be part of something larger than ourselves. This is the best day ever!” Twilight beamed. Turquoise whispered to the Cobalt and Ginseng, “Guys, this is the Princess Twilight Sparkle. The Element of Magic! We’ll have the secrets of the Object unraveled in no time.” “Contain yourself, Turq. We won’t get anything done with you fawning over her all the time,” Ginseng said. Twilight didn’t hear their remarks. She spotted the Object in the corner of the lab and was drawn to it. It was made of a rough slate-colored material, identifiable as neither metal nor stone, with every corner a precise right angle. It stood over eight feet tall and wide and twelve deep. The entire surface was covered in runes indented into the surface and each one glowed with unnatural blue light. She touched a hoof to one and it brightened further from the contact. Even as the light changed, not a single sound was made by the Object. For hours she pored over the research notes and transcriptions of the runes. They were truly unlike anything she had ever seen. She could find no parallels or similarities to any known languages or spell-forms. The rest of the team went home for the evening but Twilight remained, still eager to study the mysterious Object. “Who made this thing? What civilization could have managed something of this scale, this precision, yet leave no other trace in history?” she wondered aloud. The Object offered her no reply and its runes continued to shine with the same familiar blue light. The soft glow and the quiet ticking of the clock were relaxing and Twilight was exhausted by her busy day. Her head drooped more and more until it touched the table and she quickly fell asleep. [Mirage]“Any sufficiently advanced illusion is indistinguishable from reality.” Cobalt finished his countdown and recorded the experiment's start time as exactly five o’clock. Everypony watched Twilight and the helmet closely, expecting anything except what happened. Before the fifth tone of the clock’s bell, Twilight lifted the helmet off of her head. Nothing had happened. The assistants slouched in defeat and Blue Moon grinned. “Ha, just as I thought,” he said. “I knew your crazy plan had no—” Twilight interrupted him, “What time is it? What day is it?! Tell me!” She was frantic as she looked around. She turned to the corner of the lab where the Object sat and emitted its standard blue glow. Her jaw fell. Blue Moon scoffed and rolled his eyes, “It’s Monday, of course. The day of your failed helmet experiment. You literally just put the helmet on then took it back off.” “No I didn’t. No, this doesn’t make any sense. No, no, no,” Twilight’s legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor. The helmet rolled away. “Calm down, Twilight,” Cobalt said. He put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder but she pushed him back. “I was just there! I was at a restaurant. I lifted my hooves and…” She scrambled across the floor and grabbed the helmet with both hooves. “I put this on a week ago.” Twilight held it with her magic and stood up. “Exactly a week ago…” The other ponies looked on in confusion as Twilight continued with conviction in her voice, “As soon as I put the helmet on, the Object came to life. The runes turned red and they shifted and slid around its surface, faster and faster. Its sides folded inward again and again. It folded into itself until there was nothing left. It was gone. There were no signs of it or the helmet anywhere.” She pointed a hoof at the others. “You all saw it. We all assumed that I had triggered some sort of self-destruct function. We had to abandon the research. I was devastated. I spent the week in Canterlot trying to distract myself from my failure. Visiting family, shopping, nothing of note…” “On the seventh day, while I was eating dinner in the market, my hooves moved on their own as if to remove a hat, but I wasn’t wearing one.” Twilight stared into the distance for a moment. “And then I was here.” Ginseng Rose raised a hoof. “Maybe it was another dream?” Twilight turned to her. Ginseng cowered in the intensity of Twilight’s glare. “No. Not a dream. That was a vision. I’ve just seen seven days into the future.” Like a dream, Twilight’s memories of the vision faded quickly. She rushed to document as much as possible before it was lost. She filled page after page with notes of anything she could remember, no matter how trivial. After Twilight tossed a page aside, the assistants cross-checked it with known scheduled events. “A concert in the open air theatre on Thursday,” Ginseng read off. “That’s been scheduled for weeks. She could have seen a flier for it and recalled it subconsciously,” Cobalt Thorn said. She read the next line, “A porter strike at the train station on Friday?” Cobalt scanned a corkboard covered with newspapers and event fliers, then said “I can’t find anything about that. Put that in the ‘promising’ column.” Turquoise Star nodded and wrote ‘Porter Strike on Fri’ on the chalkboard. Blue Moon stomped through the room. “Do you seriously believe this nonsense? Her experiment failed and now she’s got you chasing phantoms!” At the door he turned back and added, “Send for me when you’ve come back to reality.” The others continued unfazed by Blue Moon’s typical temper. “Hey, Turq! It says here that you try out for the Royal Guard!” “What?” Turquoise grabbed the note from her with his magic. “Well, I guess that actually was my plan if I didn’t get this research gig.” “Half the class has the Guard as their plan B. And we can’t verify that one, since the Object still exists in this timeline.” “And he’s heard the prophecy. It’s tainted now!” Cobalt chimed in. Twilight and her assistants continued late into the night, until Twilight couldn’t recall anything else about her week. Twilight pulled Turquoise, Ginseng, and Cobalt into a group hug as they left the lab. “Thank you all so much for the help tonight. I realize this has been… unorthodox, but I think we’re really on to something here.” For the rest of the week, the helmet was secured in the lab in a glass display case. Twilight didn’t dare use it again until she could compare her previous vision’s predictions to reality. Instead, all four researchers spent their time doing fieldwork in Canterlot. Twilight lectured the others before they set out, “Treat this like a lab experiment: our goal is to observe, not affect. Any deviation could invalidate the predictions.” The three assistants worked to verify Twilight’s larger predictions while Twilight tried to mimic her schedule from her vision week. She wanted to be certain she’d to be in the same places at the same times. After the first day, Twilight was exhausted. “Trying to follow your own hoofsteps is surprisingly stressful,” she told Ginseng as they lounged on the lab’s large couch, “and I hate that I won’t know if I messed something up until much later, if at all.” “Don’t worry about it too much, Twilight,” she replied. “Most predictions about us are going to be way off anyway. The cancellation of the project in the vision is just too different from reality.” Twilight sighed. “That’s true. We’ll have to think up a strategy for the next time I use the helmet. Maybe we can mitigate that somehow. Let me know if you have any ideas.” Cobalt spun himself in circles on an office chair. “Well, did today’s predictions pan out at least?” Twilight nodded. “I guess so. I saw ponies doing the same things and saying the same things as in the vision. My memory of the vision isn’t very clear anymore, so it was like an overpowering sense of deja vu all day long.” The next day, the first of Twilight’s larger predictions took place: an axle snapped on a cart carrying hundreds of gallons of milk and the spilled milk flooded an intersection. It delayed normal traffic for over an hour. That evening, back in the lab, the team celebrated the success over some cider. Turquoise raised his mug. “To knowing the future!” Ginseng raised her own. “And to the Object!” Blue Moon entered the room and it fell silent. His stern glare passed over everypony, then he said, “Don’t stop your celebration on my account. Even I can tell that that was no coincidence today.” He approached the couch and sat down between Ginseng and Cobalt. “Now pass me some cider, Twilight Sparkle. Maybe it can help me accept your impossible visions.” Ginseng beamed, already tipsy from the drink, “Welcome back, Blue Moon! I knew there was a big softie under that gruff surface.” The five ponies drank and talked for hours. It turns out that Blue Moon was quite a storyteller once he got started. “Tell us more about the Bellu tribe, Blue Moon. Did they actually encase their dead in molten gold?” Turquoise Star asked. “As a matter of fact they did, but only their most revered got real gold. However, that’s a story for another time. We need to get some sleep if we’re going to resume fieldwork on time tomorrow.” The rest of the week played out more or less as expected. The open-air concert and porter strike happened on cue, as did numerous other minor predictions. Only a few of Twilight’s predictions failed to occur. The team attributed this to unavoidable differences in earlier events like the Object’s disappearance. On the last day of the prophecy, Twilight returned to the same restaurant and ordered the same meal from the same waiter. As she finished the last bite, she frowned. Her stomach clenched and her breath quickened. She felt exposed and vulnerable. The sense of safety and reliability that had come from the vision was gone. For the first time in a week, her future was unknown. Twilight wanted that safety back. She needed to know what was coming. “Think of all the opportunities I’m missing out on,” she muttered under her breath. “It would be reckless to not use the helmet again.” She threw a few bits on the table and galloped back to the lab. [Mania]“An intelligent pony can rationalize anything. A wise one doesn't try.” Twilight Sparkle stared at the helmet in its display case. The other researchers discussed the monumental implications of an entire week being foretold, but Twilight didn’t pay attention. She was lost in thoughts of her own. I need to go back in. Maybe I’ll come down here alone tonight— Her thoughts were interrupted when Ginseng Rose grabbed Twilight’s foreleg. “Twilight, come over to the chalkboard. Blue Moon says he has a plan for how to move forward with testing. Something about minimizing timeline deviation?” Twilight was pulled along and joined the others gathered around Blue Moon. “Ahem.” Blue Moon tapped a piece of chalk against the board until he had everypony’s attention. “As you four may have realized, the way we acted in the vision differed from reality for a variety of reasons. These can be divided into two categories.” He wrote the words ‘External’ and ‘Internal’ and underlined them. “First, external: things beyond our control. There’s really only one thing in this category: the disappearance of the Object.” He jotted ‘The Object’ on the board beneath ‘External’. “Since it disappears in the vision but not reality, it causes a significant break in the timeline. We may never be able to fully mitigate this, but we were still able to get good information from the last vision, so I’m not worried.” “Next, internal: things we can affect directly.” He wrote in that column as he continued, “This includes how we go about verifying Twilight’s predictions and whether Twilight follows her vision’s hoofsteps.” Twilight spoke up, “There’s also our reaction to the object disappearing. Since we know about that now, we’d be able to tell that we’re in a vision and not the real timeline…” “Ooh, cool!” Cobalt Thorn called out. “Then we could do anything we wanted, since that world isn’t real!” “No!” came a shout from Blue Moon. “Do not think that.” His gaze fell hard upon the four younger ponies. “We don’t know for sure that the Object won’t someday disappear from this world. Imagine the harm it could cause if you acted recklessly in our world while under the false impression that you were in the vision.” Ginseng added, “And for that matter, we don’t know that the vision world isn’t real in its own way. Even the ponies in the vision might feel pain.” Blue Moon nodded at her. “You bring up a good point. The visions could even be alternate timelines that continue on after the seven-day vision ends. We are dealing with powerful and unknown magic here. I believe we should all act with the utmost care, as if we are in our own world at all times. Doing otherwise could cause irreparable harm. Will everypony please promise to do so?” They all promised aloud, including Blue Moon. They brainstormed for another hour but they didn’t come to any final decisions for how best to account for the internal factors. Turquoise Star proposed they meet again in the morning after they all had a chance to ponder it on their own. “I can usually come up with solution to a problem after I sleep on it.” That night, Twilight Sparkle could not sleep. She tried for a while, but her thoughts churned and urged her on. Just one vision won’t hurt. No time will pass in this world, and I’ll get some peace of mind. I’ll know what’s coming. It should even help with tomorrow’s brainstorming. With a week’s worth of new information, we can solve all our problems… Twilight snuck through the hallways toward the laboratory. At the entrance to the secure areas, the guards waved her through. They were used to her coming and going at all hours. As she stepped into the lab, a shiver ran down her spine. It was exciting, dangerous even, to be doing this alone. There is risk involved, surely, but risks must be taken for progress, she thought. But first… Twilight levitated a heavy curtain to the ceiling and fastened it there. She secured it to the ceiling and walls so that it covered the Object’s entire corner of the lab and didn’t let any light through. Then she wrote on a wheeled chalkboard and set it outside the curtain as a sign. It said, “No peeking! I hid the Object and the helmet. It will be easier to fulfill that promise if we don’t know whether or not we’re in a vision. - Twilight Sparkle” She lifted the runed helmet from its case and crept under the curtain. She turned toward the Object and knelt on the floor. Just one vision, then I’ll go to sleep, she promised as she pulled the helmet down over her horn and ears. Twilight returned to her room and crawled beneath her sheets. As soon as she laid back against the pillow, she fell soundly asleep. She arrived in the laboratory early the next morning, but Blue Moon was already there. He sat on the couch and watched her enter. “Good morning, Blue Moon,” she said. “I see that you came back here last night. Clever thinking on the curtain,” he said bluntly. “Oh, thank you,” she replied. “I couldn’t sleep, so when I thought of it, I went ahead and put it into action. I don’t doubt that we’d all try to keep the promise and act as if we aren’t in a vision, but we’re only ponies. I figured some extra insurance would help.” Blue Moon narrowed his eyes. “Though one pony would know the truth, wouldn’t they, miss Sparkle?” Twilight forced a smile. “Of course. Since I initiate the vision through the helmet, that’s unavoidable. I’m not a great liar, but if nopony pries, I should be able to keep the secret.” The sound of voices came from the hallway outside. The three assistants entered but didn’t notice the tense atmosphere. Turquoise greeted them, “Good morning, Twilight, Blue Moon.” He noticed the curtain and titled his head. “Oh, what’s this?” “It’s something Twilight Sparkle thought up to help everypony behave... responsibly,” Blue Moon made eye contact with Twilight as he said the last word. He turned back to the others. “If we don’t know whether the Object is here, whether this is a vision, we won’t be tempted to do anything dangerous.” Twilight smiled again. “Exactly! But that’s not all.” She approached the main chalkboard and grabbed a piece of chalk. She dramatically checked off “The Object” from the external column. “Now the Object’s disappearance shouldn’t change the timeline and we can research the Object’s predictions with fewer uncontrolled variables.” After a lengthy but productive brainstorm session, Twilight excused herself to grab a snack from the castle’s kitchens. She wasn’t actually hungry. That went much better than the second time through. Now I know just what to say to speed things along and get back to my own research. I feel bad about lying to them, but it’s just so much easier this way. She reviewed her mental checklist as she made her way to the main hall, Experiment one: stopping the construction accident on Market Street. Twilight passed through the castle’s main gates and disappeared into the crowded streets below. [Mainframe]"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet." “Hey, Rusty! Swing that frame around this way,” shouted a hefty brown Earth Pony in a construction helmet. He stood next to a gaping hole in the side of an old brick building. One entire wall had been removed for expansion. Rusty, a Pegasus with a fitting rust-colored coat, yelled down from the cab of a large crane, “Gotcha, Baron. Frame coming in, boys!” He pulled one lever to hoist a large wooden frame into the air and two more levers to pivot the crane’s boom. The frame swung toward the wall where Baron and another worker waited to guide it into place. Just then, a tan Earth Pony construction worker stepped out from a doorway and into the center of the worksite. His eyes were cast downward as he walked. With each step he shook his hoof but a stray piece of masking tape held on stubbornly. To his right, the crane’s payload barrelled through the construction site. The pony’s slow pace drew him ever closer to its path. Behind him, a purple pony appeared in a burst of magic and skidded to a stop over the drywall-dust covered floor. “Watch out!” she screamed. He stopped and turned back toward the sound. With an faint whoosh, hundreds of pounds of pine swept through the space where his head had just been. Twilight Sparkle let out a relieved sigh but the worker was still unaware of his near miss with the wooden frame. “Hey, you can’t be in here without a helmet! You could get hurt,” the worker shouted at Twilight. She didn’t hear. She muttered, “Vision number five: Experiment one succeeded for the first time,” and teleported away through the construction site’s fence. Twilight Sparkle wandered down Market Street. It was over an hour until her next experiment, her next attempt to avert disaster, so she had some time to kill. She eyed the open door of a very expensive salon. Ooh, I can try out a new manestyle for ‘free’, she thought as she stepped inside. From the shadows of the alley across the street, a grey form watched her enter. It seemed to consider her actions for a moment, then it faded away. After thirty minutes of clipping, combing, and magical lengthening, the Unicorn stylist stepped back to admire her work. “Oh, I simply love the way your mane frames your face now. Do take a look yourself, and tell me what you think,” she said and levitated a mirror in front of Twilight. Twilight looked and saw her bangs were replaced by long flowing locks. They parted at her horn and ran down each side of her head. Violet and pink stripes still ran down the length of the deep blue mane. The style hid just a bit of her face and gave her a mysterious allure. She blinked. “Wow,” she said. I’m… sexy, she thought. Twilight smiled up at the stylist. “I can see where you got your cutie-mark. This is great!” By the end of that week, her opinion had changed as she was reminded why she had always preferred short bangs. The long hair liked to fall into her line of sight and had to be pushed away or tucked behind her ears, where it would never stay for long. This won’t do for serious study sessions, she thought, but I’ll have to remember this if I hit the dating scene… After a few more visions, the week was almost over for the last time. She’d finally succeeded at every one of her experiments and saved the lives of several ponies a few times each. She had also taken the opportunity to try out three new manestyles, eat at numerous new restaurants, and generally live a life of excess beyond her financial means. As varied as this week had been, living it again and again grew old after ten or so times. Twilight planned to leave the helmet off that night. She planned to sleep in a real bed. Twilight paused at the sign for Main Street Framing. It was an elaborately framed mirror with the shop’s name painted onto its surface. She turned her head from side to side and admired her new sky blue mane in the reflection. The color was fun, but not really her thing. Behind her reflected self, she spotted a small grey pony watching her intently. She thought she had seen this foal around the city before, always from the corner of her eye. Twilight snapped around to look but the pony was nowhere to be seen. Twilight shrugged it off and continued toward the castle. She preferred be in the lab when the visions came to an end. It was less jarring to ‘wake’ from the vision there. On the way, she glanced down at a fallen newspaper. Its headlines read, “Celestia Maintains Sky-High Approval Ratings,” “Framed! - Drama Movie to Premiere This Weekend,” and “What’s In a Mane? Photos of Princess Twilight Sparkle’s Wild New Manestyle.” She laughed a bit at that last headline. All the more reason to do trial runs in a vision. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the scrutiny that comes with being a princess. Twilight stepped over the paper and moved on. No need to worry about litter when this is just a vision. Then the wind gusted and turned the page. Where articles and images should have been, a single word repeated again and again and filled the entire page: ‘Mainframe’. As Twilight Sparkle slept that night in the real world, she had a dream. From her perspective, it was the first time in months. The absence went unnoticed at first, but she realized eventually: she never dreamed inside the visions. In this dream, pieces of memories called out to her. Were they called up by her subconscious or by the Object? Patterns of loose letters assembled into the same two words. She recalled all the times she had glimpsed or heard those two words. The dream words floated and merged into a single word: mainframe. Again and again it had appeared in the visions. Like something on the tip of her tongue, she knew the word was important, but she couldn’t say why. She tossed and turned in her sleep. Into the dark bedroom she mumbled, “Mainframe. What does it mean?” At that, a small grey pony approached her in the dream. The one from the Object’s version of Canterlot. The one that had seemed to follow her through her weeks and weeks in the visions. Androgynous and maneless and lacking a cutie-mark, its only distinguishing features were glowing blue eyes. “Greetings, Princess Twilight Sparkle,” it said with stilted formality. “I have watched you but I have failed to properly contact you. It has taken all of my ability just to support you within my dream. I have found it easier to contact you here in yours. I hope to watch you again,” it said, then vanished in a wisp of smoke She shivered, and she understood then. Mainframe wasn’t a term defined in any Equestrian dictionary. Mainframe was a name, the name of the strange pale foal. The true name of the machine she had always called the Object. The next morning, Twilight rushed to get the other researchers up to speed on the latest vision week. She was well practiced in the routine, and she chose to omit the topic of the Object’s new name. The thought of treading that new ground without the aid of a vision terrified her. “Wait, you used the Object last night without telling us?” Behind Cobalt Thorn’s eyes, a fierce battle raged between his hero worship and his newfound disappointment regarding Twilight’s actions. “And judging by how rehearsed she sounds, we can deduce that she used it multiple times in a row,” Blue Moon said with extreme displeasure. Twilight rolled her eyes and said, “Can we save the lectures for later? We can save lives if we act quickly.” The others nodded in reluctant agreement and followed Twilight as she bolted from the room. She shouted information about her plans back to them, out of courtesy, but she wouldn’t need their help for these ‘experiments’. She knew exactly what to do. As she had done in the vision, she ran throughout Canterlot to be in the right places at the right times, to avert catastrophes and save lives. She skipped the expensive restaurants and salon visits, but otherwise followed her hoofprints closely. She kept an eye out for the grey pony, Mainframe, but she never saw it. She had to remind herself that this wasn’t a vision anymore. It couldn’t be here in the real world, right? she asked herself with a feeling of unease. For the rest of the week Twilight delayed the conversation regarding the Object’s identity. On the last day, she retreated to her room and threw herself on the bed. Should I use the helmet again and contact Mainframe to confirm what I saw in my dream? Should I even tell the others? She pressed her face into a pillow and let out an exasperated grunt. I don’t even know what Mainframe is! Is it alive? Is it dangerous? She repeatedly ran her hooves through her mane, as if to scratch a mental itch. Could it possibly be worse than this feeling of not knowing what tomorrow will bring? I have too many questions and not enough answers, Twilight thought. She jumped up from the bed. “I’m going back in. I’ll talk to Mainframe and I’ll come back with all the answers everypony expects from me.” There was a nervous gleam in her eyes as she ran from the room. [Metamorphosis]“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from life.” On the third day of the second vision, Twilight nearly gave up hope on seeing Mainframe. She’d strained her eyes by constantly checking her peripheral vision, but the small grey pony hadn’t appeared anywhere. At least I’m still learning about the future, and learning how to stop disasters more efficiently, she thought as she signed her name at the bottom of a piece of stationery. The missive was short and snappy; perfect to avert the disaster coming the next day. It read, “By royal decree of Princess Twilight Sparkle, this unsafe building is condemned. Trespassers will be prosecuted.” “That should keep those tourists out. You’d think the obvious disrepair would have been enough to keep them from messing around there, but apparently not,” Twilight said to herself. On her way to the abandoned warehouse to put up her notices, she stopped at a small deli for lunch. Twilight loved this deli and had eaten there almost every day during her previous vision of this week. She almost ordered ‘the usual’ before she realized she was a first-time customer in this timeline. Twilight sat at one of the deli’s streetside tables with her food. She bit into the cabbage and toasted rye sandwich. The cashier had given Twilight a puzzled look when she asked for no cheese on the ‘grilled cheese and cabbage’ sandwich, but Twilight knew what she was doing; she had tried the normal version last week. She shuddered at the memory. Never again. It was so... cheesy… She swallowed the tangy and tasty bite, then coughed in surprise as a voice spoke up from behind her. “You have not changed your mane lately. I had thought that was part of your routine, but I must have been mistaken.” Twilight twisted on her cushion and saw a pale grey mare behind her. Or at least, something like a mare. It had a soft jawline, but lacked any other femininity. A short slate-colored mane topped the youthful face. “Mainframe?” Twilight squinted. “Is that you?” The pony smiled. “You have figured out my name. I am glad. I have not quite figured out your kind’s ‘genders’, however.” Mainframe gestured at its body. It was more mature than its prior foal form, but still of indeterminate gender. Twilight tilted her head. She wanted to ask ‘You can change your own appearance? And your gender?!’ but the answer to those questions was standing before her, clear as day. Instead she ventured, “So, you want to be a mare?” Mainframe nodded. “As I have watched you, I found that I identify with the concept of femininity in your society. I have decided to be female as well.” I guess that’s reason enough, Twilight thought. Her brow furrowed and she said, “Wait a second. That’s the second time you’ve said that you watched me. Don’t you watch any of these other ponies?” Twilight waved a hoof at the crowded avenue beyond. Mainframe answered with a question, “Would you watch a stone wall while a river ran nearby?” Her eyes were focused on Twilight’s as she continued, “All the other ponies have been static fixtures. They live the same week in every possible timeline, eternally. You have been changing everything around you, changing yourself every day.” While Twilight pondered that in silence, Mainframe added, “I have made sure to find the dreams that contain you. I have enjoyed guessing why you do the contradictory things you do. You seem to care for this city, but you did not pick up litter in your path. You risked yourself to save a pony one week, but then you let them die the next.” Mainframe stared into Twilight’s eyes, as if the answer was there. As if they could answer for her awful behavior. Twilight swallowed hard. I must look like a monster to her. I come in to this world, do as I please, and leave without a second thought. This is exactly what Ginseng Rose warned us about. “I do save them!” she replied, already on the defensive. “I find out what works in here, then I save them in the real world.” Tears gathered in her eyes and her throat clenched up. “I would never let them die…” Mainframe stepped forward and put her face uncomfortably close to Twilight’s. “What does that mean? The ‘real world’?“ Twilight broke eye contact and leaned back as far as the table behind her would allow. “Where do I even begin?” After a moment she waved a hoof over her head and said, “Well, this is all a vision, just one potential future for my world. In the real world, there’s this big slate-colored machine that I can use to enter visions that cover the next seven days. When the vision ends, I use what I learned to help the ponies in my timeline.” Twilight looked into Mainframe’s luminescent blue eyes. “We used to call the vision machine ‘the Object’, but now I think its name is Mainframe. I think it is you.” Mainframe stood perfectly still. She didn’t blink or even seem to breathe for several seconds. “Are you al—” Twilight started, but Mainframe turned on the spot and fled. She galloped away at full speed. She was gone around a corner before Twilight could rise from her cushion. “—right?” Twilight finished with a worried frown. Twilight never saw the grey pony again. That week concluded uneventfully and the vision ended. Back in the real lab, Twilight Sparkle sat slumped on the floor with the helmet between her hooves. “I should go back in,” she said aloud. “I don’t know if I can save everypony unless I do.” She looked up at the massive glowing box before her, at Mainframe. “I’m sorry. I think I messed up. I said more than I should have and now you’re probably confused and hurt. And alone.” Her magic enveloped the helmet and lifted it over her head. “I’m so sorry, Mainframe. I’m coming,” she whispered as she lowered the helmet and entered the vision. Twice more Twilight returned to the real world, and twice more she donned the helmet and returned to the vision. In those two weeks, Mainframe never showed herself but Twilight never stopped looking. Twilight optimized her actions in the vision and continued to refine her lifesaving technique. She jokingly called it “right place, right time,” or RPRT for short. Twilight stepped out of the laboratory and closed the door behind her. I think I’m approaching the limit of what I can meaningfully gain from living this week, she thought. She started the long walk to her room. And it’s getting lonely in here. She awoke at dawn on the fifteenth day. Something was different. The room had a faint floral scent she didn’t recognize; it came from a vase filled with fresh cut flowers on her nightstand. Those weren’t there the last four times I lived this day. Did I do something different before I went to sleep? Maybe I said something to a guard, and he had these sent up? Twilight fell back into her morning routine and forgot about the flowers. After breakfast, she made her way to her first RPRT of the day: convincing a restaurant manager to throw away a shipment of potatoes that had gone green, and therefore toxic. While it wouldn’t technically save any lives, preventing 78 ponies from getting seriously ill seemed worthwhile. Twilight couldn’t bring herself to skip a RPRT, even after she had mastered it. Not after what Mainframe had said about letting a pony die in the vision. She already knew what to say to get the manager to act, “Green potatoes contain high amounts of a solanine, the same poison as nightshade. You wouldn’t want to poison your customers, would you? Just think of the lost business!” Like the four visions prior, the manager apologized profusely for his near mistake and for inconveniencing a princess. He ordered the restaurant’s finest meal for her, potato-free of course, which Twilight gladly accepted. As she ate the eggplant marinara and garlic bread, a different but familiar smell wafted over her. She sniffed at the air and tried to place it. Is that… the flower from this morning? An unfamiliar mare sat down across Twilight’s table. She had a sky blue mane in a short bob-cut that flared out at chin level. Her coat was a warm yellow. The color combination reminded Twilight of the sky on a bright summer day. Twilight was in the middle of chewing a large bite of eggplant so she merely raised an eyebrow at the Earth Pony. “My apologies for interrupting your meal, Princess. I am Song Flower,” the mare said in a light sing-song voice. She bowed her head. “I wanted to thank you.” Twilight took a moment to swallow her food and wipe her mouth with a napkin, then responded, “Thank me? What for?” Maybe I saved her last week in the real world? Though I’m surprised she didn’t approach me when I ate here in the last vision… “Thank you for allowing me to know myself. Through your actions I have gained awareness. The knowledge you have given me has changed everything for me. For this world.” Twilight’s jaw fell. “Mainframe?” Song Flower smiled kindly but shook her head. “No longer. I am Song Flower now. Like my appearance, I chose this name for myself.” “Oh? Why that name?” Twilight asked in an attempt to gain time to process these new developments. A cryptic smile formed on Song Flower’s lips. “A song is a tale told along the vector of time. It may be repeated and relived, or changed and remixed. Do you see the parallel in your actions, Twilight?” Twilight’s brow furrowed in thought, then she looked Song Flower in the eyes. They were still a light blue, but lacked their prior iridescence. After a moment, Twilight said, “Ah! Each week-long vision is like a song, and I’ve been repeating and changing those songs. Remixing them.” “Exactly,” Song Flower said haughtily. Twilight was impressed by how quickly she acquired a personality of her own, even if it was proving a bit bothersome. “And what about ‘Flower’? Does it have something to do with your perfume, and the flowers in my room this morning?” “Not quite. Those came after. A flower is a plant, further removed from ponies in the tree of life than even insects or humans. But there is no doubt that it is alive, or that it is beautiful.” Did she just say humans? How could she know about them? My journies to their world were never made public, Twilight fretted. Song Flower didn’t notice Twilight’s state, or didn’t care. “Thank you again, Twilight, for opening my mind to the world, and opening worlds to me. I’ll be going now.” Before Twilight could react, Song Flower disappeared. Where she had been was a black silhouette, a tear in space. The room became a flat painting, a canvas that was twisted and stretched to infinity as it was pulled into the hole. A familiar gut-wrenching feeling hit Twilight and she knew the vision was ending, though in catastrophic fashion. The world fell away and Twilight was alone in the emptiness. She lifted her hooves to her head and removed the helmet that was and wasn’t there. Twilight awoke on the floor of the laboratory. The helmet lay nearby. She knew at a glance that it would never function again; it was weathered and dented beyond recognition. Every rune on its surface had been rubbed away, as if by thousands of years of rain, wind, and sand. She rose to her hooves, unsteady and exhausted. She turned toward the corner where the Object was. It was empty. The space Mainframe had once occupied was now open air. Twilight approached and saw the last evidence of its presence: a dust outline on the floor, eight feet by twelve feet. One edge of the perimeter had been disturbed. A trail of hoofprints lead from the dust to the curtain that had enclosed the Object and beyond. Twilight followed them to a desk. A folded piece of paper sat upon the desk. Twilight lifted it and read the unsteady hoofwriting. “Twilight Sparkle, you taught me that life is best when every moment is a surprise. Please live your life in the present.” It was signed ‘Song Flower’. A few more faint hoofprints lead out of the lab, but they faded before long. Twilight continued up to the castle, and spoke to a guard on the way. “Did you happen to see a yellow mare pass through here?” “Oh yes, that was a few hours ago. She was very polite. She was lost and asked me to escort her to the main gate. We talked for a while but... I can’t remember what we talked about.” The guard removed his helmet and scratched at his scalp. “Huh, that’s really odd. It’s got that feeling, you know, like trying to remember a dream after you wake up.” “Oh, I know that feeling better than you’d think. Thank you, sir,” Twilight said. She made the familiar trip back to her room, but this time was different. This time it was final. As she settled into bed, Twilight wondered how she’d possibly explain this to the other researchers. “I guess I’ll have to wing it. No more practice runs for me,” she said with both relief and anticipation. “Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild.” Author's Note Sources for the chapter intro/outro quotes (modified slightly by me): 1. Clarke's First Law 2. Clarke's Second Law 3. Clarke's Third Law 4. Jen Knox, Don't Tease the Elephants 5. William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet 6a. Clarke's Third Law (again) 6b. Stephen King, Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption [Moment]“The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.” Far beneath Canterlot in a top-secret laboratory, Twilight Sparkle slept at her desk. Mere feet away the monolithic relic called “the Object” emitted its faint blue light. The light rose and fell in time with Twilight’s breathing. It flickered in tune with her heartbeat. It synchronized with her dreams. She saw the Object. It was in its normal location in the northern corner of the lab, but something sat upon it. Twilight approached and saw a grey helmet, its shape not unlike that of a Royal Guard’s. She lifted it with her magic and found it was lighter than she had expected. When she looked closer the entire surface was covered with intricate runes, similar to those on the Object itself. She felt compelled to try the helmet on and she found it fit perfectly. Twilight Sparkle awoke with a start. She whipped around and scanned the room for the helmet, but there was no sign of it. “Just a dream,” she murmured. “I should sleep in a real bed…” She gathered her belongings and trudged up to the castle guest quarters. Twilight checked off another item from her comprehensive “Research the Object” checklist. Just one day of research had made it three-quarters of the way through. Twilight slapped a hoof on the desk and startled Turquoise Star as he cleaned up to leave for the night. This should be cause for celebration. Checklists are made to be checked off, but… we haven’t learned anything new! She scanned the list, Spell reactivity? Zero. Material Analysis? Unreadable. Emitted Light Frequency? Blue and otherwise unremarkable. “Ugh!” She put her forehead on the desk and rolled it from side to side. The pressure on her forehead reminded her of something, “Wait a minute… That dream. I had a dream about… a helmet!” she exclaimed. “Maybe the Object uses a helmet somehow. I’ll check the notes again for a mention of that.” She darted to the filing cabinet and levitated a large folder out. She dropped it on the desk and dove in. For three hours, she read and reread everything about the excavation process. “There’s nothing here at all about a helmet, and they absolutely scoured that cave. That foremare was damned thorough. I like her style. I’ll have to remember her name… Geode.” After thirty more minutes reading the reports, Twilight threw her hooves up. “Agh. Nothing! It was just a stupid dream after all. Just wishful thinking on the part of my subconscious.” She returned the reports to their folder and the filing cabinet. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.” She returned to her chambers, took a quick shower, and promptly fell asleep. Once again, the Object thrummed in tune with Twilight’s body. Despite the distance, it knew her feel and it found her dreams. Like before, Twilight stepped forward to the Object. She lifted the helmet and examined the runes etched into its surface. Unlike before, she happened to look closely at the spot just below the hole for a Unicorn’s horn. Dead center amongst the scramble of symbols, clear as day, was her cutie-mark. She gasped. Every detail was there. It was unmistakable. She frowned in thought, then opened her eyes wide. “Ah ha, that explains it… the perfect fit, the fact that there’s no record of the helmet…” Compelled like before, she lowered the helm over her horn and onto her head. She sat up abruptly. “The helmet doesn’t exist yet. I have to make it myself!” she shouted into the dark bedroom. In the morning Twilight Sparkle addressed the research team, “I believe the Object utilizes a helmet as a user input device, but the helmet must be constructed uniquely for the user. The specifications for the helmet are conveyed through a recurring dream inserted into the user’s mind.” The team just stared blankly at her so she gave a simple conclusion, “We’re going to construct the helmet from my dream!” Blue Moon left the room in a huff and said, “She’s mad. They replaced me with a madmare!”. Despite their confusion, the three research assistants remained. Cobalt Thorn whispered to Ginseng Rose, “I’m just happy to be pursuing a new line of inquiry for the first time in months.” The mare responded, “We get our course credit either way, which is all I’m really here for.” The Royal Guard’s best blacksmith was summoned to construct a helmet but he was given only Twilight’s crude sketches to work from. Furthermore, she insisted it be made from the lightest sturdy metal he could find. He shrugged as he left. “Scholars...” he muttered. For hours Twilight drew as many symbols as she could remember from her dream helmet. She recognized some from the Object itself. She put the assistants to task matching runes on the Object and correcting the sketches that were muddled by her memory. Next she set them to making paper-mache helmets so she could draw the runes onto them with the correct interrelationships. By the end of the day, she had high confidence in perhaps one-tenth of the runes. “I’ll have to pay better attention tonight…” she murmured, prompting a doubtful shrug from Ginseng. For three more nights Twilight dreamed of the helmet and for three more days she worked to make it a reality. The forged helmet arrived from the blacksmith. It matched her specifications perfectly and fit just as well. “Thank you very much, sir. I’ll be sure to add you to the ‘special thanks’ of our published findings,” Twilight said. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t thrilled at the prospect. She carefully etched the runes into the helm with her magic. If I botch this, he’d have to make it all over again. However, the symbols had become second nature to her and she had no issues with the etching. She finished the process that night and added her cutie-mark last. That night Twilight had no dreams and she awoke the next morning with a hollow, wanting feeling. “Today’s the day. It’ll be great, just you wait and see,” she told the unconfident reflection in the bathroom mirror. She galloped down to the laboratory and wrote an agenda for the day. Turquoise was the first assistant to arrive and she sent him to find Blue Moon. “He needs to be here for this. His work was the foundation we built upon, after all.” It took all day to get everything prepared and the moment of truth fast approached. “At five o’clock exactly, I’ll wear the completed helmet and you”—she gestured to the three assistants—”will record everything that happens. Everything! Even an insignificant looking spark is worth noting down.” Blue Moon scowled. “And if nothing happens at all?” “That’s a distinct possibility. In fact, since the Object has been using dreams thus far, I wouldn’t be surprised if I need to sleep with the helmet on to get an effect. We’ll start preparing for that experiment right after this one,” she said with a chipper smile. “Everypony get ready,” Twilight said as Cobalt counted down the seconds to five o’clock. She approached the Object and sat on her haunches. At the end of the countdown, as the lab’s clock rang out the first of five bells, Twilight Sparkle lowered the helmet onto her head.
[Marvel]“When a distinguished but elderly scholar states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong.” On the southwest edge of Equestria, on the fringe of Celestia’s influence, the TerraSalva mining operation ran at full capacity. The current expedition followed a profitable vein of gold when an Earth Pony miner’s pick broke into a large chamber. “Hey, boss! Y’all gonna want to see this.” “What now? This better not be another joke comparing some rock you found to somepony’s mother.” “No ma’am. This’n is serious. I found, like, a cave. But it has words ‘n things on the walls.” “Huh? Step aside. Lemme see.” The Unicorn foremare leaned in and shined her headlamp into the opening. The natural cave walls had been covered from floor to ceiling in crude etchings and pictographs. Skeletons of long-dead ponies littered the room, some still clutching chisels with their teeth. Whoo-wee! she whistled. “Yup, this is above our pay-grade, fellas. Everypony back off. I’m closing this branch off until we get new orders from the big-wigs.” She turned away and ushered the others out of the passage. Behind her, in the darkness of the cavern, fragments of pale blue light flickered to life. For a moment they illuminated a towering shape in the center of the room, then the room went dark again. Three months later, an unmarked train arrived in Canterlot in the middle of the night. Two Royal Guards escorted an elderly dark-blue Unicorn to the station. “Why was it scheduled to arrive so late at night?” Blue Moon whined. “I’m too old for this.” A Pegasus guard replied, “For security. We had to shut down the station while we unload the… Object. It was better now than when ponies actually needed to use the station.” “Oh, very well. Though I doubt this thing needs that much security. I’m the premiere expert on primitive societies, and they are just that: primitive. I bet it’s some savage king’s attempt at a throne or—” He cut off when he saw the scale of the tarp-covered Object. A crane had lifted it from the train and eight burly Earth Ponies maneuvered it into place on a large cart. Each dimension of the massive rectangular block was twice that of the largest Earth Pony porter. By the trouble it was giving the porters, it appeared to weigh several tons. “Huh.” Blue Moon was speechless. Once the Object settled, he approached the cart. Almost immediately, a blue light emanated from under the tarp. Blue Moon and the porters leapt back, startled by the unexpected light. The Pegasus guard spoke up, “The mining company said that it would do that whenever a Unicorn gets near. Pay it no mind. Let’s get a move on. I got another shift in a few hours and I want to get some sleep first.” All eight porters strapped themselves into harnesses and pulled. They strained against the weight until the cart finally crept up the hill toward the castle. “I guess I’m walking,” Blue Moon muttered. He had hoped to ride on the cart but he doubted they could handle any more weight. “Of course I’m upset! After four months of research, we have nothing to show for it.” Blue Moon gestured at the walls of the room, covered in notes and formulas. “Want to hear the sum of all of our efforts? ‘It glows when a Unicorn is near.’ The miners figured that one out on the first day! For all I know, it’s just an elaborate night-light.” He ran a hoof through his thinning white hair and calmed himself. He bowed deeply. “I’m sorry, Princess, for my anger and my failure. It is impossible to learn anything more from that artifact. I’m withdrawing from the project.” Princess Celestia smiled warmly. “There’s no need to apologize, Blue Moon. There was never any guarantee that there would be anything to learn in the first place. Thank you for your efforts so far, but I have one favor to ask of you.” Blue Moon tilted his head. “Of course, Princess. I suspect you want an expense report? I’d understand if you wanted me to hoof some of the bill for this failure…” “Oh, no, nothing like that,” Celestia tittered. “I just want you to be available as a consultant, just part-time, for any future researchers that have questions. In particular, I’d like you to lend your experience to my former student Twilight Sparkle. She’ll be arriving tomorrow to join the research team.” “Omigosh, omigosh! I’m so excited!” Twilight Sparkle enthused. “We know, sugarcube. Now can ya please stop flappin’ around above our heads? Yer actin’ a little ‘Rainbow Dash’ at the moment,” said Applejack, unenthused. Rainbow Dash bristled. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!? It’s totally cool to show your excitement sometimes.” Rarity raised a hoof. “I believe Applejack’s qualm, and my own, is with how Twilight is showing her excitement by flying around inside a train.” She looked up at Twilight Sparkle. “Please settle down, dear. We’re almost to Canterlot and there wouldn’t be enough time to fix my mane if your flying musses it up.” Twilight sat down in her seat but continued to wiggle and fidget for the rest of the ride. “While you three are merely making a day trip of this, I am going to be lead researcher on a project. Lead. Researcher. This is huge!” “Yes, and we are all very proud of you. Don’t forget to call us if you want any emotional support,” Rarity said, then quietly added, “I’d love an excuse to visit Canterlot again…” After the train arrived in Canterlot, the four ponies stopped at a small cafe for lunch before going their separate ways. “It’sh sho lucky tha’ old researcha guy left,” Rainbow Dash said over a half-chewed bite of sandwich. Thankfully, she swallowed before continuing, “I bet some young blood is what that project needed all along.” Twilight’s perpetual grin widened. “I know! Not to shine my own horn, but I bet I can make some serious progress on whatever this project is before I go to sleep tonight.” At the entrance to the castle, Twilight met the curmudgeonly Blue Moon and he guided her down winding hallways to the secure research lab deep under Canterlot Castle. “As you can see, this research is being kept secret. Do not tell your friends, do not talk about it outside of the lab, and do not tell the media. I can’t believe I have to say that, but kids these days have no concept of discretion.” In the lab, she met the assistant researchers. Turquoise Star was a Unicorn stallion with a coat and mane matching his name, Ginseng Rose was a rare Earth Pony scholar who had a green mane and dusky-pink coat, and Cobalt Thorn was a pale blue Unicorn with a dark mane who was far scrawnier than his name suggested. “We get to be on the forefront of discovery, to be part of something larger than ourselves. This is the best day ever!” Twilight beamed. Turquoise whispered to the Cobalt and Ginseng, “Guys, this is the Princess Twilight Sparkle. The Element of Magic! We’ll have the secrets of the Object unraveled in no time.” “Contain yourself, Turq. We won’t get anything done with you fawning over her all the time,” Ginseng said. Twilight didn’t hear their remarks. She spotted the Object in the corner of the lab and was drawn to it. It was made of a rough slate-colored material, identifiable as neither metal nor stone, with every corner a precise right angle. It stood over eight feet tall and wide and twelve deep. The entire surface was covered in runes indented into the surface and each one glowed with unnatural blue light. She touched a hoof to one and it brightened further from the contact. Even as the light changed, not a single sound was made by the Object. For hours she pored over the research notes and transcriptions of the runes. They were truly unlike anything she had ever seen. She could find no parallels or similarities to any known languages or spell-forms. The rest of the team went home for the evening but Twilight remained, still eager to study the mysterious Object. “Who made this thing? What civilization could have managed something of this scale, this precision, yet leave no other trace in history?” she wondered aloud. The Object offered her no reply and its runes continued to shine with the same familiar blue light. The soft glow and the quiet ticking of the clock were relaxing and Twilight was exhausted by her busy day. Her head drooped more and more until it touched the table and she quickly fell asleep.
[Mirage]“Any sufficiently advanced illusion is indistinguishable from reality.” Cobalt finished his countdown and recorded the experiment's start time as exactly five o’clock. Everypony watched Twilight and the helmet closely, expecting anything except what happened. Before the fifth tone of the clock’s bell, Twilight lifted the helmet off of her head. Nothing had happened. The assistants slouched in defeat and Blue Moon grinned. “Ha, just as I thought,” he said. “I knew your crazy plan had no—” Twilight interrupted him, “What time is it? What day is it?! Tell me!” She was frantic as she looked around. She turned to the corner of the lab where the Object sat and emitted its standard blue glow. Her jaw fell. Blue Moon scoffed and rolled his eyes, “It’s Monday, of course. The day of your failed helmet experiment. You literally just put the helmet on then took it back off.” “No I didn’t. No, this doesn’t make any sense. No, no, no,” Twilight’s legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor. The helmet rolled away. “Calm down, Twilight,” Cobalt said. He put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder but she pushed him back. “I was just there! I was at a restaurant. I lifted my hooves and…” She scrambled across the floor and grabbed the helmet with both hooves. “I put this on a week ago.” Twilight held it with her magic and stood up. “Exactly a week ago…” The other ponies looked on in confusion as Twilight continued with conviction in her voice, “As soon as I put the helmet on, the Object came to life. The runes turned red and they shifted and slid around its surface, faster and faster. Its sides folded inward again and again. It folded into itself until there was nothing left. It was gone. There were no signs of it or the helmet anywhere.” She pointed a hoof at the others. “You all saw it. We all assumed that I had triggered some sort of self-destruct function. We had to abandon the research. I was devastated. I spent the week in Canterlot trying to distract myself from my failure. Visiting family, shopping, nothing of note…” “On the seventh day, while I was eating dinner in the market, my hooves moved on their own as if to remove a hat, but I wasn’t wearing one.” Twilight stared into the distance for a moment. “And then I was here.” Ginseng Rose raised a hoof. “Maybe it was another dream?” Twilight turned to her. Ginseng cowered in the intensity of Twilight’s glare. “No. Not a dream. That was a vision. I’ve just seen seven days into the future.” Like a dream, Twilight’s memories of the vision faded quickly. She rushed to document as much as possible before it was lost. She filled page after page with notes of anything she could remember, no matter how trivial. After Twilight tossed a page aside, the assistants cross-checked it with known scheduled events. “A concert in the open air theatre on Thursday,” Ginseng read off. “That’s been scheduled for weeks. She could have seen a flier for it and recalled it subconsciously,” Cobalt Thorn said. She read the next line, “A porter strike at the train station on Friday?” Cobalt scanned a corkboard covered with newspapers and event fliers, then said “I can’t find anything about that. Put that in the ‘promising’ column.” Turquoise Star nodded and wrote ‘Porter Strike on Fri’ on the chalkboard. Blue Moon stomped through the room. “Do you seriously believe this nonsense? Her experiment failed and now she’s got you chasing phantoms!” At the door he turned back and added, “Send for me when you’ve come back to reality.” The others continued unfazed by Blue Moon’s typical temper. “Hey, Turq! It says here that you try out for the Royal Guard!” “What?” Turquoise grabbed the note from her with his magic. “Well, I guess that actually was my plan if I didn’t get this research gig.” “Half the class has the Guard as their plan B. And we can’t verify that one, since the Object still exists in this timeline.” “And he’s heard the prophecy. It’s tainted now!” Cobalt chimed in. Twilight and her assistants continued late into the night, until Twilight couldn’t recall anything else about her week. Twilight pulled Turquoise, Ginseng, and Cobalt into a group hug as they left the lab. “Thank you all so much for the help tonight. I realize this has been… unorthodox, but I think we’re really on to something here.” For the rest of the week, the helmet was secured in the lab in a glass display case. Twilight didn’t dare use it again until she could compare her previous vision’s predictions to reality. Instead, all four researchers spent their time doing fieldwork in Canterlot. Twilight lectured the others before they set out, “Treat this like a lab experiment: our goal is to observe, not affect. Any deviation could invalidate the predictions.” The three assistants worked to verify Twilight’s larger predictions while Twilight tried to mimic her schedule from her vision week. She wanted to be certain she’d to be in the same places at the same times. After the first day, Twilight was exhausted. “Trying to follow your own hoofsteps is surprisingly stressful,” she told Ginseng as they lounged on the lab’s large couch, “and I hate that I won’t know if I messed something up until much later, if at all.” “Don’t worry about it too much, Twilight,” she replied. “Most predictions about us are going to be way off anyway. The cancellation of the project in the vision is just too different from reality.” Twilight sighed. “That’s true. We’ll have to think up a strategy for the next time I use the helmet. Maybe we can mitigate that somehow. Let me know if you have any ideas.” Cobalt spun himself in circles on an office chair. “Well, did today’s predictions pan out at least?” Twilight nodded. “I guess so. I saw ponies doing the same things and saying the same things as in the vision. My memory of the vision isn’t very clear anymore, so it was like an overpowering sense of deja vu all day long.” The next day, the first of Twilight’s larger predictions took place: an axle snapped on a cart carrying hundreds of gallons of milk and the spilled milk flooded an intersection. It delayed normal traffic for over an hour. That evening, back in the lab, the team celebrated the success over some cider. Turquoise raised his mug. “To knowing the future!” Ginseng raised her own. “And to the Object!” Blue Moon entered the room and it fell silent. His stern glare passed over everypony, then he said, “Don’t stop your celebration on my account. Even I can tell that that was no coincidence today.” He approached the couch and sat down between Ginseng and Cobalt. “Now pass me some cider, Twilight Sparkle. Maybe it can help me accept your impossible visions.” Ginseng beamed, already tipsy from the drink, “Welcome back, Blue Moon! I knew there was a big softie under that gruff surface.” The five ponies drank and talked for hours. It turns out that Blue Moon was quite a storyteller once he got started. “Tell us more about the Bellu tribe, Blue Moon. Did they actually encase their dead in molten gold?” Turquoise Star asked. “As a matter of fact they did, but only their most revered got real gold. However, that’s a story for another time. We need to get some sleep if we’re going to resume fieldwork on time tomorrow.” The rest of the week played out more or less as expected. The open-air concert and porter strike happened on cue, as did numerous other minor predictions. Only a few of Twilight’s predictions failed to occur. The team attributed this to unavoidable differences in earlier events like the Object’s disappearance. On the last day of the prophecy, Twilight returned to the same restaurant and ordered the same meal from the same waiter. As she finished the last bite, she frowned. Her stomach clenched and her breath quickened. She felt exposed and vulnerable. The sense of safety and reliability that had come from the vision was gone. For the first time in a week, her future was unknown. Twilight wanted that safety back. She needed to know what was coming. “Think of all the opportunities I’m missing out on,” she muttered under her breath. “It would be reckless to not use the helmet again.” She threw a few bits on the table and galloped back to the lab.
[Mania]“An intelligent pony can rationalize anything. A wise one doesn't try.” Twilight Sparkle stared at the helmet in its display case. The other researchers discussed the monumental implications of an entire week being foretold, but Twilight didn’t pay attention. She was lost in thoughts of her own. I need to go back in. Maybe I’ll come down here alone tonight— Her thoughts were interrupted when Ginseng Rose grabbed Twilight’s foreleg. “Twilight, come over to the chalkboard. Blue Moon says he has a plan for how to move forward with testing. Something about minimizing timeline deviation?” Twilight was pulled along and joined the others gathered around Blue Moon. “Ahem.” Blue Moon tapped a piece of chalk against the board until he had everypony’s attention. “As you four may have realized, the way we acted in the vision differed from reality for a variety of reasons. These can be divided into two categories.” He wrote the words ‘External’ and ‘Internal’ and underlined them. “First, external: things beyond our control. There’s really only one thing in this category: the disappearance of the Object.” He jotted ‘The Object’ on the board beneath ‘External’. “Since it disappears in the vision but not reality, it causes a significant break in the timeline. We may never be able to fully mitigate this, but we were still able to get good information from the last vision, so I’m not worried.” “Next, internal: things we can affect directly.” He wrote in that column as he continued, “This includes how we go about verifying Twilight’s predictions and whether Twilight follows her vision’s hoofsteps.” Twilight spoke up, “There’s also our reaction to the object disappearing. Since we know about that now, we’d be able to tell that we’re in a vision and not the real timeline…” “Ooh, cool!” Cobalt Thorn called out. “Then we could do anything we wanted, since that world isn’t real!” “No!” came a shout from Blue Moon. “Do not think that.” His gaze fell hard upon the four younger ponies. “We don’t know for sure that the Object won’t someday disappear from this world. Imagine the harm it could cause if you acted recklessly in our world while under the false impression that you were in the vision.” Ginseng added, “And for that matter, we don’t know that the vision world isn’t real in its own way. Even the ponies in the vision might feel pain.” Blue Moon nodded at her. “You bring up a good point. The visions could even be alternate timelines that continue on after the seven-day vision ends. We are dealing with powerful and unknown magic here. I believe we should all act with the utmost care, as if we are in our own world at all times. Doing otherwise could cause irreparable harm. Will everypony please promise to do so?” They all promised aloud, including Blue Moon. They brainstormed for another hour but they didn’t come to any final decisions for how best to account for the internal factors. Turquoise Star proposed they meet again in the morning after they all had a chance to ponder it on their own. “I can usually come up with solution to a problem after I sleep on it.” That night, Twilight Sparkle could not sleep. She tried for a while, but her thoughts churned and urged her on. Just one vision won’t hurt. No time will pass in this world, and I’ll get some peace of mind. I’ll know what’s coming. It should even help with tomorrow’s brainstorming. With a week’s worth of new information, we can solve all our problems… Twilight snuck through the hallways toward the laboratory. At the entrance to the secure areas, the guards waved her through. They were used to her coming and going at all hours. As she stepped into the lab, a shiver ran down her spine. It was exciting, dangerous even, to be doing this alone. There is risk involved, surely, but risks must be taken for progress, she thought. But first… Twilight levitated a heavy curtain to the ceiling and fastened it there. She secured it to the ceiling and walls so that it covered the Object’s entire corner of the lab and didn’t let any light through. Then she wrote on a wheeled chalkboard and set it outside the curtain as a sign. It said, “No peeking! I hid the Object and the helmet. It will be easier to fulfill that promise if we don’t know whether or not we’re in a vision. - Twilight Sparkle” She lifted the runed helmet from its case and crept under the curtain. She turned toward the Object and knelt on the floor. Just one vision, then I’ll go to sleep, she promised as she pulled the helmet down over her horn and ears. Twilight returned to her room and crawled beneath her sheets. As soon as she laid back against the pillow, she fell soundly asleep. She arrived in the laboratory early the next morning, but Blue Moon was already there. He sat on the couch and watched her enter. “Good morning, Blue Moon,” she said. “I see that you came back here last night. Clever thinking on the curtain,” he said bluntly. “Oh, thank you,” she replied. “I couldn’t sleep, so when I thought of it, I went ahead and put it into action. I don’t doubt that we’d all try to keep the promise and act as if we aren’t in a vision, but we’re only ponies. I figured some extra insurance would help.” Blue Moon narrowed his eyes. “Though one pony would know the truth, wouldn’t they, miss Sparkle?” Twilight forced a smile. “Of course. Since I initiate the vision through the helmet, that’s unavoidable. I’m not a great liar, but if nopony pries, I should be able to keep the secret.” The sound of voices came from the hallway outside. The three assistants entered but didn’t notice the tense atmosphere. Turquoise greeted them, “Good morning, Twilight, Blue Moon.” He noticed the curtain and titled his head. “Oh, what’s this?” “It’s something Twilight Sparkle thought up to help everypony behave... responsibly,” Blue Moon made eye contact with Twilight as he said the last word. He turned back to the others. “If we don’t know whether the Object is here, whether this is a vision, we won’t be tempted to do anything dangerous.” Twilight smiled again. “Exactly! But that’s not all.” She approached the main chalkboard and grabbed a piece of chalk. She dramatically checked off “The Object” from the external column. “Now the Object’s disappearance shouldn’t change the timeline and we can research the Object’s predictions with fewer uncontrolled variables.” After a lengthy but productive brainstorm session, Twilight excused herself to grab a snack from the castle’s kitchens. She wasn’t actually hungry. That went much better than the second time through. Now I know just what to say to speed things along and get back to my own research. I feel bad about lying to them, but it’s just so much easier this way. She reviewed her mental checklist as she made her way to the main hall, Experiment one: stopping the construction accident on Market Street. Twilight passed through the castle’s main gates and disappeared into the crowded streets below.
[Mainframe]"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet." “Hey, Rusty! Swing that frame around this way,” shouted a hefty brown Earth Pony in a construction helmet. He stood next to a gaping hole in the side of an old brick building. One entire wall had been removed for expansion. Rusty, a Pegasus with a fitting rust-colored coat, yelled down from the cab of a large crane, “Gotcha, Baron. Frame coming in, boys!” He pulled one lever to hoist a large wooden frame into the air and two more levers to pivot the crane’s boom. The frame swung toward the wall where Baron and another worker waited to guide it into place. Just then, a tan Earth Pony construction worker stepped out from a doorway and into the center of the worksite. His eyes were cast downward as he walked. With each step he shook his hoof but a stray piece of masking tape held on stubbornly. To his right, the crane’s payload barrelled through the construction site. The pony’s slow pace drew him ever closer to its path. Behind him, a purple pony appeared in a burst of magic and skidded to a stop over the drywall-dust covered floor. “Watch out!” she screamed. He stopped and turned back toward the sound. With an faint whoosh, hundreds of pounds of pine swept through the space where his head had just been. Twilight Sparkle let out a relieved sigh but the worker was still unaware of his near miss with the wooden frame. “Hey, you can’t be in here without a helmet! You could get hurt,” the worker shouted at Twilight. She didn’t hear. She muttered, “Vision number five: Experiment one succeeded for the first time,” and teleported away through the construction site’s fence. Twilight Sparkle wandered down Market Street. It was over an hour until her next experiment, her next attempt to avert disaster, so she had some time to kill. She eyed the open door of a very expensive salon. Ooh, I can try out a new manestyle for ‘free’, she thought as she stepped inside. From the shadows of the alley across the street, a grey form watched her enter. It seemed to consider her actions for a moment, then it faded away. After thirty minutes of clipping, combing, and magical lengthening, the Unicorn stylist stepped back to admire her work. “Oh, I simply love the way your mane frames your face now. Do take a look yourself, and tell me what you think,” she said and levitated a mirror in front of Twilight. Twilight looked and saw her bangs were replaced by long flowing locks. They parted at her horn and ran down each side of her head. Violet and pink stripes still ran down the length of the deep blue mane. The style hid just a bit of her face and gave her a mysterious allure. She blinked. “Wow,” she said. I’m… sexy, she thought. Twilight smiled up at the stylist. “I can see where you got your cutie-mark. This is great!” By the end of that week, her opinion had changed as she was reminded why she had always preferred short bangs. The long hair liked to fall into her line of sight and had to be pushed away or tucked behind her ears, where it would never stay for long. This won’t do for serious study sessions, she thought, but I’ll have to remember this if I hit the dating scene… After a few more visions, the week was almost over for the last time. She’d finally succeeded at every one of her experiments and saved the lives of several ponies a few times each. She had also taken the opportunity to try out three new manestyles, eat at numerous new restaurants, and generally live a life of excess beyond her financial means. As varied as this week had been, living it again and again grew old after ten or so times. Twilight planned to leave the helmet off that night. She planned to sleep in a real bed. Twilight paused at the sign for Main Street Framing. It was an elaborately framed mirror with the shop’s name painted onto its surface. She turned her head from side to side and admired her new sky blue mane in the reflection. The color was fun, but not really her thing. Behind her reflected self, she spotted a small grey pony watching her intently. She thought she had seen this foal around the city before, always from the corner of her eye. Twilight snapped around to look but the pony was nowhere to be seen. Twilight shrugged it off and continued toward the castle. She preferred be in the lab when the visions came to an end. It was less jarring to ‘wake’ from the vision there. On the way, she glanced down at a fallen newspaper. Its headlines read, “Celestia Maintains Sky-High Approval Ratings,” “Framed! - Drama Movie to Premiere This Weekend,” and “What’s In a Mane? Photos of Princess Twilight Sparkle’s Wild New Manestyle.” She laughed a bit at that last headline. All the more reason to do trial runs in a vision. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the scrutiny that comes with being a princess. Twilight stepped over the paper and moved on. No need to worry about litter when this is just a vision. Then the wind gusted and turned the page. Where articles and images should have been, a single word repeated again and again and filled the entire page: ‘Mainframe’. As Twilight Sparkle slept that night in the real world, she had a dream. From her perspective, it was the first time in months. The absence went unnoticed at first, but she realized eventually: she never dreamed inside the visions. In this dream, pieces of memories called out to her. Were they called up by her subconscious or by the Object? Patterns of loose letters assembled into the same two words. She recalled all the times she had glimpsed or heard those two words. The dream words floated and merged into a single word: mainframe. Again and again it had appeared in the visions. Like something on the tip of her tongue, she knew the word was important, but she couldn’t say why. She tossed and turned in her sleep. Into the dark bedroom she mumbled, “Mainframe. What does it mean?” At that, a small grey pony approached her in the dream. The one from the Object’s version of Canterlot. The one that had seemed to follow her through her weeks and weeks in the visions. Androgynous and maneless and lacking a cutie-mark, its only distinguishing features were glowing blue eyes. “Greetings, Princess Twilight Sparkle,” it said with stilted formality. “I have watched you but I have failed to properly contact you. It has taken all of my ability just to support you within my dream. I have found it easier to contact you here in yours. I hope to watch you again,” it said, then vanished in a wisp of smoke She shivered, and she understood then. Mainframe wasn’t a term defined in any Equestrian dictionary. Mainframe was a name, the name of the strange pale foal. The true name of the machine she had always called the Object. The next morning, Twilight rushed to get the other researchers up to speed on the latest vision week. She was well practiced in the routine, and she chose to omit the topic of the Object’s new name. The thought of treading that new ground without the aid of a vision terrified her. “Wait, you used the Object last night without telling us?” Behind Cobalt Thorn’s eyes, a fierce battle raged between his hero worship and his newfound disappointment regarding Twilight’s actions. “And judging by how rehearsed she sounds, we can deduce that she used it multiple times in a row,” Blue Moon said with extreme displeasure. Twilight rolled her eyes and said, “Can we save the lectures for later? We can save lives if we act quickly.” The others nodded in reluctant agreement and followed Twilight as she bolted from the room. She shouted information about her plans back to them, out of courtesy, but she wouldn’t need their help for these ‘experiments’. She knew exactly what to do. As she had done in the vision, she ran throughout Canterlot to be in the right places at the right times, to avert catastrophes and save lives. She skipped the expensive restaurants and salon visits, but otherwise followed her hoofprints closely. She kept an eye out for the grey pony, Mainframe, but she never saw it. She had to remind herself that this wasn’t a vision anymore. It couldn’t be here in the real world, right? she asked herself with a feeling of unease. For the rest of the week Twilight delayed the conversation regarding the Object’s identity. On the last day, she retreated to her room and threw herself on the bed. Should I use the helmet again and contact Mainframe to confirm what I saw in my dream? Should I even tell the others? She pressed her face into a pillow and let out an exasperated grunt. I don’t even know what Mainframe is! Is it alive? Is it dangerous? She repeatedly ran her hooves through her mane, as if to scratch a mental itch. Could it possibly be worse than this feeling of not knowing what tomorrow will bring? I have too many questions and not enough answers, Twilight thought. She jumped up from the bed. “I’m going back in. I’ll talk to Mainframe and I’ll come back with all the answers everypony expects from me.” There was a nervous gleam in her eyes as she ran from the room.
[Metamorphosis]“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from life.” On the third day of the second vision, Twilight nearly gave up hope on seeing Mainframe. She’d strained her eyes by constantly checking her peripheral vision, but the small grey pony hadn’t appeared anywhere. At least I’m still learning about the future, and learning how to stop disasters more efficiently, she thought as she signed her name at the bottom of a piece of stationery. The missive was short and snappy; perfect to avert the disaster coming the next day. It read, “By royal decree of Princess Twilight Sparkle, this unsafe building is condemned. Trespassers will be prosecuted.” “That should keep those tourists out. You’d think the obvious disrepair would have been enough to keep them from messing around there, but apparently not,” Twilight said to herself. On her way to the abandoned warehouse to put up her notices, she stopped at a small deli for lunch. Twilight loved this deli and had eaten there almost every day during her previous vision of this week. She almost ordered ‘the usual’ before she realized she was a first-time customer in this timeline. Twilight sat at one of the deli’s streetside tables with her food. She bit into the cabbage and toasted rye sandwich. The cashier had given Twilight a puzzled look when she asked for no cheese on the ‘grilled cheese and cabbage’ sandwich, but Twilight knew what she was doing; she had tried the normal version last week. She shuddered at the memory. Never again. It was so... cheesy… She swallowed the tangy and tasty bite, then coughed in surprise as a voice spoke up from behind her. “You have not changed your mane lately. I had thought that was part of your routine, but I must have been mistaken.” Twilight twisted on her cushion and saw a pale grey mare behind her. Or at least, something like a mare. It had a soft jawline, but lacked any other femininity. A short slate-colored mane topped the youthful face. “Mainframe?” Twilight squinted. “Is that you?” The pony smiled. “You have figured out my name. I am glad. I have not quite figured out your kind’s ‘genders’, however.” Mainframe gestured at its body. It was more mature than its prior foal form, but still of indeterminate gender. Twilight tilted her head. She wanted to ask ‘You can change your own appearance? And your gender?!’ but the answer to those questions was standing before her, clear as day. Instead she ventured, “So, you want to be a mare?” Mainframe nodded. “As I have watched you, I found that I identify with the concept of femininity in your society. I have decided to be female as well.” I guess that’s reason enough, Twilight thought. Her brow furrowed and she said, “Wait a second. That’s the second time you’ve said that you watched me. Don’t you watch any of these other ponies?” Twilight waved a hoof at the crowded avenue beyond. Mainframe answered with a question, “Would you watch a stone wall while a river ran nearby?” Her eyes were focused on Twilight’s as she continued, “All the other ponies have been static fixtures. They live the same week in every possible timeline, eternally. You have been changing everything around you, changing yourself every day.” While Twilight pondered that in silence, Mainframe added, “I have made sure to find the dreams that contain you. I have enjoyed guessing why you do the contradictory things you do. You seem to care for this city, but you did not pick up litter in your path. You risked yourself to save a pony one week, but then you let them die the next.” Mainframe stared into Twilight’s eyes, as if the answer was there. As if they could answer for her awful behavior. Twilight swallowed hard. I must look like a monster to her. I come in to this world, do as I please, and leave without a second thought. This is exactly what Ginseng Rose warned us about. “I do save them!” she replied, already on the defensive. “I find out what works in here, then I save them in the real world.” Tears gathered in her eyes and her throat clenched up. “I would never let them die…” Mainframe stepped forward and put her face uncomfortably close to Twilight’s. “What does that mean? The ‘real world’?“ Twilight broke eye contact and leaned back as far as the table behind her would allow. “Where do I even begin?” After a moment she waved a hoof over her head and said, “Well, this is all a vision, just one potential future for my world. In the real world, there’s this big slate-colored machine that I can use to enter visions that cover the next seven days. When the vision ends, I use what I learned to help the ponies in my timeline.” Twilight looked into Mainframe’s luminescent blue eyes. “We used to call the vision machine ‘the Object’, but now I think its name is Mainframe. I think it is you.” Mainframe stood perfectly still. She didn’t blink or even seem to breathe for several seconds. “Are you al—” Twilight started, but Mainframe turned on the spot and fled. She galloped away at full speed. She was gone around a corner before Twilight could rise from her cushion. “—right?” Twilight finished with a worried frown. Twilight never saw the grey pony again. That week concluded uneventfully and the vision ended. Back in the real lab, Twilight Sparkle sat slumped on the floor with the helmet between her hooves. “I should go back in,” she said aloud. “I don’t know if I can save everypony unless I do.” She looked up at the massive glowing box before her, at Mainframe. “I’m sorry. I think I messed up. I said more than I should have and now you’re probably confused and hurt. And alone.” Her magic enveloped the helmet and lifted it over her head. “I’m so sorry, Mainframe. I’m coming,” she whispered as she lowered the helmet and entered the vision. Twice more Twilight returned to the real world, and twice more she donned the helmet and returned to the vision. In those two weeks, Mainframe never showed herself but Twilight never stopped looking. Twilight optimized her actions in the vision and continued to refine her lifesaving technique. She jokingly called it “right place, right time,” or RPRT for short. Twilight stepped out of the laboratory and closed the door behind her. I think I’m approaching the limit of what I can meaningfully gain from living this week, she thought. She started the long walk to her room. And it’s getting lonely in here. She awoke at dawn on the fifteenth day. Something was different. The room had a faint floral scent she didn’t recognize; it came from a vase filled with fresh cut flowers on her nightstand. Those weren’t there the last four times I lived this day. Did I do something different before I went to sleep? Maybe I said something to a guard, and he had these sent up? Twilight fell back into her morning routine and forgot about the flowers. After breakfast, she made her way to her first RPRT of the day: convincing a restaurant manager to throw away a shipment of potatoes that had gone green, and therefore toxic. While it wouldn’t technically save any lives, preventing 78 ponies from getting seriously ill seemed worthwhile. Twilight couldn’t bring herself to skip a RPRT, even after she had mastered it. Not after what Mainframe had said about letting a pony die in the vision. She already knew what to say to get the manager to act, “Green potatoes contain high amounts of a solanine, the same poison as nightshade. You wouldn’t want to poison your customers, would you? Just think of the lost business!” Like the four visions prior, the manager apologized profusely for his near mistake and for inconveniencing a princess. He ordered the restaurant’s finest meal for her, potato-free of course, which Twilight gladly accepted. As she ate the eggplant marinara and garlic bread, a different but familiar smell wafted over her. She sniffed at the air and tried to place it. Is that… the flower from this morning? An unfamiliar mare sat down across Twilight’s table. She had a sky blue mane in a short bob-cut that flared out at chin level. Her coat was a warm yellow. The color combination reminded Twilight of the sky on a bright summer day. Twilight was in the middle of chewing a large bite of eggplant so she merely raised an eyebrow at the Earth Pony. “My apologies for interrupting your meal, Princess. I am Song Flower,” the mare said in a light sing-song voice. She bowed her head. “I wanted to thank you.” Twilight took a moment to swallow her food and wipe her mouth with a napkin, then responded, “Thank me? What for?” Maybe I saved her last week in the real world? Though I’m surprised she didn’t approach me when I ate here in the last vision… “Thank you for allowing me to know myself. Through your actions I have gained awareness. The knowledge you have given me has changed everything for me. For this world.” Twilight’s jaw fell. “Mainframe?” Song Flower smiled kindly but shook her head. “No longer. I am Song Flower now. Like my appearance, I chose this name for myself.” “Oh? Why that name?” Twilight asked in an attempt to gain time to process these new developments. A cryptic smile formed on Song Flower’s lips. “A song is a tale told along the vector of time. It may be repeated and relived, or changed and remixed. Do you see the parallel in your actions, Twilight?” Twilight’s brow furrowed in thought, then she looked Song Flower in the eyes. They were still a light blue, but lacked their prior iridescence. After a moment, Twilight said, “Ah! Each week-long vision is like a song, and I’ve been repeating and changing those songs. Remixing them.” “Exactly,” Song Flower said haughtily. Twilight was impressed by how quickly she acquired a personality of her own, even if it was proving a bit bothersome. “And what about ‘Flower’? Does it have something to do with your perfume, and the flowers in my room this morning?” “Not quite. Those came after. A flower is a plant, further removed from ponies in the tree of life than even insects or humans. But there is no doubt that it is alive, or that it is beautiful.” Did she just say humans? How could she know about them? My journies to their world were never made public, Twilight fretted. Song Flower didn’t notice Twilight’s state, or didn’t care. “Thank you again, Twilight, for opening my mind to the world, and opening worlds to me. I’ll be going now.” Before Twilight could react, Song Flower disappeared. Where she had been was a black silhouette, a tear in space. The room became a flat painting, a canvas that was twisted and stretched to infinity as it was pulled into the hole. A familiar gut-wrenching feeling hit Twilight and she knew the vision was ending, though in catastrophic fashion. The world fell away and Twilight was alone in the emptiness. She lifted her hooves to her head and removed the helmet that was and wasn’t there. Twilight awoke on the floor of the laboratory. The helmet lay nearby. She knew at a glance that it would never function again; it was weathered and dented beyond recognition. Every rune on its surface had been rubbed away, as if by thousands of years of rain, wind, and sand. She rose to her hooves, unsteady and exhausted. She turned toward the corner where the Object was. It was empty. The space Mainframe had once occupied was now open air. Twilight approached and saw the last evidence of its presence: a dust outline on the floor, eight feet by twelve feet. One edge of the perimeter had been disturbed. A trail of hoofprints lead from the dust to the curtain that had enclosed the Object and beyond. Twilight followed them to a desk. A folded piece of paper sat upon the desk. Twilight lifted it and read the unsteady hoofwriting. “Twilight Sparkle, you taught me that life is best when every moment is a surprise. Please live your life in the present.” It was signed ‘Song Flower’. A few more faint hoofprints lead out of the lab, but they faded before long. Twilight continued up to the castle, and spoke to a guard on the way. “Did you happen to see a yellow mare pass through here?” “Oh yes, that was a few hours ago. She was very polite. She was lost and asked me to escort her to the main gate. We talked for a while but... I can’t remember what we talked about.” The guard removed his helmet and scratched at his scalp. “Huh, that’s really odd. It’s got that feeling, you know, like trying to remember a dream after you wake up.” “Oh, I know that feeling better than you’d think. Thank you, sir,” Twilight said. She made the familiar trip back to her room, but this time was different. This time it was final. As she settled into bed, Twilight wondered how she’d possibly explain this to the other researchers. “I guess I’ll have to wing it. No more practice runs for me,” she said with both relief and anticipation. “Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild.” Author's Note Sources for the chapter intro/outro quotes (modified slightly by me): 1. Clarke's First Law 2. Clarke's Second Law 3. Clarke's Third Law 4. Jen Knox, Don't Tease the Elephants 5. William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet 6a. Clarke's Third Law (again) 6b. Stephen King, Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption
[Moment]“The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.” Far beneath Canterlot in a top-secret laboratory, Twilight Sparkle slept at her desk. Mere feet away the monolithic relic called “the Object” emitted its faint blue light. The light rose and fell in time with Twilight’s breathing. It flickered in tune with her heartbeat. It synchronized with her dreams. She saw the Object. It was in its normal location in the northern corner of the lab, but something sat upon it. Twilight approached and saw a grey helmet, its shape not unlike that of a Royal Guard’s. She lifted it with her magic and found it was lighter than she had expected. When she looked closer the entire surface was covered with intricate runes, similar to those on the Object itself. She felt compelled to try the helmet on and she found it fit perfectly. Twilight Sparkle awoke with a start. She whipped around and scanned the room for the helmet, but there was no sign of it. “Just a dream,” she murmured. “I should sleep in a real bed…” She gathered her belongings and trudged up to the castle guest quarters. Twilight checked off another item from her comprehensive “Research the Object” checklist. Just one day of research had made it three-quarters of the way through. Twilight slapped a hoof on the desk and startled Turquoise Star as he cleaned up to leave for the night. This should be cause for celebration. Checklists are made to be checked off, but… we haven’t learned anything new! She scanned the list, Spell reactivity? Zero. Material Analysis? Unreadable. Emitted Light Frequency? Blue and otherwise unremarkable. “Ugh!” She put her forehead on the desk and rolled it from side to side. The pressure on her forehead reminded her of something, “Wait a minute… That dream. I had a dream about… a helmet!” she exclaimed. “Maybe the Object uses a helmet somehow. I’ll check the notes again for a mention of that.” She darted to the filing cabinet and levitated a large folder out. She dropped it on the desk and dove in. For three hours, she read and reread everything about the excavation process. “There’s nothing here at all about a helmet, and they absolutely scoured that cave. That foremare was damned thorough. I like her style. I’ll have to remember her name… Geode.” After thirty more minutes reading the reports, Twilight threw her hooves up. “Agh. Nothing! It was just a stupid dream after all. Just wishful thinking on the part of my subconscious.” She returned the reports to their folder and the filing cabinet. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.” She returned to her chambers, took a quick shower, and promptly fell asleep. Once again, the Object thrummed in tune with Twilight’s body. Despite the distance, it knew her feel and it found her dreams. Like before, Twilight stepped forward to the Object. She lifted the helmet and examined the runes etched into its surface. Unlike before, she happened to look closely at the spot just below the hole for a Unicorn’s horn. Dead center amongst the scramble of symbols, clear as day, was her cutie-mark. She gasped. Every detail was there. It was unmistakable. She frowned in thought, then opened her eyes wide. “Ah ha, that explains it… the perfect fit, the fact that there’s no record of the helmet…” Compelled like before, she lowered the helm over her horn and onto her head. She sat up abruptly. “The helmet doesn’t exist yet. I have to make it myself!” she shouted into the dark bedroom. In the morning Twilight Sparkle addressed the research team, “I believe the Object utilizes a helmet as a user input device, but the helmet must be constructed uniquely for the user. The specifications for the helmet are conveyed through a recurring dream inserted into the user’s mind.” The team just stared blankly at her so she gave a simple conclusion, “We’re going to construct the helmet from my dream!” Blue Moon left the room in a huff and said, “She’s mad. They replaced me with a madmare!”. Despite their confusion, the three research assistants remained. Cobalt Thorn whispered to Ginseng Rose, “I’m just happy to be pursuing a new line of inquiry for the first time in months.” The mare responded, “We get our course credit either way, which is all I’m really here for.” The Royal Guard’s best blacksmith was summoned to construct a helmet but he was given only Twilight’s crude sketches to work from. Furthermore, she insisted it be made from the lightest sturdy metal he could find. He shrugged as he left. “Scholars...” he muttered. For hours Twilight drew as many symbols as she could remember from her dream helmet. She recognized some from the Object itself. She put the assistants to task matching runes on the Object and correcting the sketches that were muddled by her memory. Next she set them to making paper-mache helmets so she could draw the runes onto them with the correct interrelationships. By the end of the day, she had high confidence in perhaps one-tenth of the runes. “I’ll have to pay better attention tonight…” she murmured, prompting a doubtful shrug from Ginseng. For three more nights Twilight dreamed of the helmet and for three more days she worked to make it a reality. The forged helmet arrived from the blacksmith. It matched her specifications perfectly and fit just as well. “Thank you very much, sir. I’ll be sure to add you to the ‘special thanks’ of our published findings,” Twilight said. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t thrilled at the prospect. She carefully etched the runes into the helm with her magic. If I botch this, he’d have to make it all over again. However, the symbols had become second nature to her and she had no issues with the etching. She finished the process that night and added her cutie-mark last. That night Twilight had no dreams and she awoke the next morning with a hollow, wanting feeling. “Today’s the day. It’ll be great, just you wait and see,” she told the unconfident reflection in the bathroom mirror. She galloped down to the laboratory and wrote an agenda for the day. Turquoise was the first assistant to arrive and she sent him to find Blue Moon. “He needs to be here for this. His work was the foundation we built upon, after all.” It took all day to get everything prepared and the moment of truth fast approached. “At five o’clock exactly, I’ll wear the completed helmet and you”—she gestured to the three assistants—”will record everything that happens. Everything! Even an insignificant looking spark is worth noting down.” Blue Moon scowled. “And if nothing happens at all?” “That’s a distinct possibility. In fact, since the Object has been using dreams thus far, I wouldn’t be surprised if I need to sleep with the helmet on to get an effect. We’ll start preparing for that experiment right after this one,” she said with a chipper smile. “Everypony get ready,” Twilight said as Cobalt counted down the seconds to five o’clock. She approached the Object and sat on her haunches. At the end of the countdown, as the lab’s clock rang out the first of five bells, Twilight Sparkle lowered the helmet onto her head.
