The Reality Engine

Rainbow Dash stood outside Sugarcube Corner in the gentle morning light, an early spring breeze ruffling her wings with a cool touch. In the distance, the school bell chimed nine o’clock. She knocked on the gingerbread door with an impatient rap, then waited, holding her breath. There was no response. She fluttered her wings, but still nopony came. She looked up to a second-floor window, but it was covered but a shutter, meaning Pinkie was probably still asleep, the morning passing by without her.

“Pinkie!” she called. “You in there?”

No response.

With a groan, Rainbow beat her wings and shot up to the second floor. Hovering around to the window, she peered through the heart-shaped cutaway in the shutters into Pinkie Pie’s bedroom. She couldn’t see Pinkie, but she had to be in there.

Rainbow smirked. “Alright Pinkie, I gave you fair warning! Now I’m coming in!”

Rainbow coiled back, preparing, then shot forward. She burst into Pinkie’s bedroom with a shower of gingerbread-painted wood. Of course: the shutters opened outward, not inward. She shook her head, shards of sugar glass falling out of her mane. Rainbow glanced backward at the destruction her entry had caused. Yeah, that probably wasn’t her smartest move. She grimaced, turning away. Not the first time she would have to pay for damages.

The sun poured in from the broken window, casting Rainbow’s shadow on the floor, while the other windows let in thin shafts between their shutters, catching the twinkling dust. Eyes adjusting to the gloom, she side-stepped the debris and slid up to where she knew Pinkie’s bed was. She kicked her foreleg on the sideboard, grimacing as the pain hit her a split second after the sound. Rubbing her leg, she whispered for Pinkie.

The giant mound of spotted blue blankets heaped in the middle of bed rolled and shifted. A pink foreleg shot out from under them and opened a hole wide enough for Pinkie to wriggle her head out. She blinked heavily, the light from the broken window hitting her square in the face. She squinted at Rainbow. “Dashie? What time is it?”

“Nine o’clock. You said you wanted to get up early this morning, go do some flying? Remember?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Pinkie paused, then her heavy eyes widened, full of life. “Oh! Yeah!” Before Rainbow could blink, Pinkie leaped out from the covers, rolled head-over-fetlocks, and popped up in an inch in front of her. She grinned. Rainbow grinned back, then fell into a coughing fit, overwhelmed by the sweetness of Pinkie’s breath.

“You okay?” Pinkie asked, leaning around to nosey at the red-faced Rainbow.

“Fine,” Rainbow wheezed.

Pinkie backed off, then frowned as something behind Rainbow. “Hey, what happened to my window?”

“Uh...” Rainbow said as she straightened herself up. “Nevermind. Let’s go.”

Pinkie tore her frown off her shattered window and smiled as she looked back to Rainbow. “Okay.” She jumped up and down a few times before spreading her wings and taking to the air. It seemed wrong, somehow, watching her dart through the air, past Rainbow and out the window. But Rainbow couldn’t put her hoof on why it was wrong, so she buried the thought. Leaving the bedroom without so much as a second glance, Rainbow joined her.

The two pegasi started their way across Ponyville. Cool air still lingered from last night’s rain, mixing with the humid air rising up from the evaporating puddles and rivulets. Pinkie scratched at her scalp, strands of her mane and the occasional fleck of dough floating off behind her, caught in the breeze.

“So, where’d you want to go?” Rainbow asked.

“Eh… nowhere in particular.” Pinkie spun upside down and kicked her leg as if she was swimming through the air.

Rainbow absently watched Pinkie for a bit, then noticed a series of dark clouds gathering behind her, far off to the west over the Everfree Forest. There was a time when Rainbow would’ve had to have dealt with them, but not since she’d become a Wonderbolt. Her days of cloudbusting were over. But, the clouds did give her an idea. She smirked. “Hey, Pinkie, you wanna play a prank on Twilight?”

Pinkie looked at Rainbow, eyebrow raised, then followed her line of sight to the clouds in the distance. “I don’t know, Dashie. She said she was really busy with Princess stuff this week.”

“Ugh! Twilight’s no fun.” She sighed. “What about AJ?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Rainbow rubbed her hooves together. “Sweet. Right: we’re going to need those clouds.”

Pinkie grinned. “Those clouds, you say? Well, last one there has to carry them all! Threetwoone GO!”

Pinkie shot off, leaving a trail of pink in her wake. “Hey! No fair,” Rainbow yelled, even as she sped toward the pink pegasus.

Rainbow expected to overtake Pinkie in a matter of seconds—she was Equestria’s greatest living flier after all—but Pinkie kept shrinking away into the distance, her trail fading with her. Rainbow pushed forwards for nearly half a minute, then brought herself to a stop. She should’ve reached the clouds by now; they couldn’t have been more than two miles away. Rainbow could fly that far in, like, ten seconds. Twenty, at most. Yet the clouds didn’t look any closer than when she’d started. And on top of that, she’d lost sight of Pinkie completely.

She looked back to Ponyville. She was several miles away from that, at least. Maybe she’d just misjudged how far away the clouds were?

Rainbow put her head down and, with a few powerful flaps to bring her back up to speed, she set off after the clouds. She flew faster and faster, but she still didn’t get any closer. She turned back to look at Ponyville falling away into the distance. When she looked forward again, a gigantic tree had appeared in front of her. She threw out wings in a desperate attempt to stop, but couldn’t avoid hurtling through a window carved in the trunk. She hit a wooden floor, bounced, and rolled into a bookshelf on the far wall. Just as she was starting to get her bearings, an avalanche of books and scrolls poured onto her.

Rainbow looked up to see Twilight slowly approaching from the far end of the room.

“Rainbow Dash, that’s not funny.” Twilight stood over the sprawling pegasus, frowning.

“Yeah. My head agrees with you.” Rainbow hauled herself to her hooves, shaking her head to clear it. Not her most graceful landing, but usually buildings didn’t appear right in front of her. She looked around the room, lined with bookshelves grown from the trunk of the tree. Golden Oak Library. As Twilight approached, Rainbow noticed she was a head taller than her, even though Rainbow was now standing.

With a flick of Twilight’s horn, the mess of books levitated into the air, reformed neat rows, and flew back up onto the shelves. A final straggler, a thin green paperback, slotted in between two larger books.

“What are you doing here, Rainbow?” A chair slid across the room to Twilight, and she sat down. “I thought you wouldn’t show your face again after what happened with Pinkie.”

Rainbow frowned. “What do you mean? I was literally just with Pinkie.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t remember.” Twilight poured herself a cup of tea. She pointed the delicate blue cup at Rainbow. “You know very well what you did.”

“I… I don’t.” Rainbow shrank back, her chest tightening. What had happened to Pinkie?

Twilight scoffed. She stamped her hoof twice against the floorboards and a statue sprang forward out of the shadows. The room lurched and spun, the shadows twisting around the stone-encased features of Pinkie Pie.

“You did this to her, Rainbow.”

“No…” Rainbow’s ears fell flat, as she fell onto her rump. No. She was just with Pinkie, how could this have happened?

“You didn’t protect her, Rainbow.” As the lights in the room turned to all point at the statue of Pinkie, Twilight stepped up to it, running her hoof along Pinkie’s side.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It doesn’t matter what you ‘meant’!” Growling, Twilight swung at Pinkie’s statue. The statue went flying away like it was made of cardboard. Twilight stepped into the vacant spotlight. “You’re supposed to the element of loyalty! Where were you, Rainbow?”

“I couldn’t keep up with her,” Rainbow mumbled. It was a pathetic defense, and she knew it. But what else could she say?

“You were supposed to protect her!” Twilight screeched.

“I’m sorry!” Rainbow’s felt herself start tearing up. She sniffled.

As Rainbow began to sob, Twilight walked forward, her hoofsteps echoing as if they were in a cavern the cozy library had. She placed her hoof under Rainbow’s chin and brought her head up. Rainbow looked up at her friend with tear-filled eyes.

“You’re too late,” Twilight said. “Pinkie’s gone because of you. Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy: they’re all gone. Because of you.”

Rainbow wiped her face with the back of her hoof. “No. I’d never let my friends down. You know me, Twilight, right?”

“I thought I did.” Twilight slunk back into the shadows. “I thought you were brave. Strong. Loyal. I admired you, Rainbow. We all did.”

Rainbow watched, trying to control her sobbing, as Twilight faded into the dark.

“But I was wrong. You’re a coward. You just saved yourself.” Twilight was now fully shrouded in shadow. The last thing to disappear were her eyes, which stared at Rainbow, so full of hurt and anger Rainbow had to turn away. When she forced herself to look back, Twilight had vanished entirely.

“Twilight?” Rainbow’s voice cracked. “Twilight?”

Rainbow jumped into the air. She flew to the wall and started running her hooves along it, looking for the door. “Twilight?” She felt the spines of books and the trunk of the library, but no door. “Pinkie?” One hoof outstretched, she circled the entire room. Nothing. “Anypony?” She flew up to the roof, searching for the source of the light so she could point it at the wall. But the ceiling was smooth. “Anypony?” Rainbow repeated. Rainbow shoot from spot to spot around the upper section of the wall, stopping for the barest moment to pat that section of wall. The window had to be there. She’d obviously just missed it. But the wall was as smooth as the ceiling. Even the bookshelves were gone. Rainbow pulled back from the wall and hung mid-air. She was trapped.

“Rainbow!” a voice hissed.

Rainbow. She turned back to the center where the spotlight still shone. Twilight was there. Rainbow’s heart practically leaped out her mouth, and in an instant, she rushed to her friend’s side. Twilight was lying on the floor, head in her hooves, wings flat by her side.

Rainbow gingerly propped up Twilight, wrapping forelegs around her shoulders, heaving with labored breathing. She reeked of sweat, but Rainbow didn’t care. “Twilight, I’m so sorry, I… didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Twilight didn’t respond. Her eyes were closed and she swayed slightly.

“Twilight? I’d never betray you, you know that.”

Twilight’s head flopped onto Rainbow’s chest, her horn just brushing Rainbow’s cheek. Rainbow hugged her tighter.

“Twilight?”

No response.

“Twilight?”

Her heart hammering, Rainbow pulled back from Twilight. She was still breathing. That was good, right?

“What?” Twilight asked, her limp body reasserting itself in Rainbow’s embrace. She tried looking around, even though her eyes were still closed. “Where are we?” She frowned. “No. Nevermind. I don’t have the time. Rainbow: you need to listen to me.”

“Oh, you’re okay. You had me worried.” Rainbow pulled back, letting Twilight sit of her own volition. Adopted a military posture, Rainbow puffed her chest out. “Right, I’m listening. Whatever it is, I promise I won’t let you down.”

“I know where Fluttershy is.”

“What?”

“Just pay attention. Iron Bolt Cove. Cargo transport C12 ID17754. It’ll be under an alias. Run by pirates. Two days time. You can get there.” As she spoke, she grew more and more strained. She smiled at Rainbow. “I believe in you, Rainbow.”

Rainbow gawked. “Twilight? What are you talking about.”

“You’ll understand when you wake up. Did you remember everything?”

Rainbow stared blankly. “Ah… Iron Bolt Cove. C12 ID17754. Two days.” Rainbow frowned. “Wait… how did I remember that?”

Twilight chuckled, which dissolved into coughing. Her forelegs collapsed from under her and she fell flat on the floor. “Go, now. Quickly. They’re coming. They’ll figure out where you are.”

“Who will—”

“Just go!” Twilight opened her eyes. They were blank white discs. Grimacing, her horn flickered into life. She pointed it at a patch of wall in front of Rainbow and a door appeared, twisting and unfolding to its full size as sourceless lights appeared around it.

Rainbow stood, taking a step forward but immediately stopping. “No.” She turned back to Twilight. “No, I’m not leaving you behind.” She reached down to haul Twilight up, but when she reached down, her hooves passed straight through Twilight’s trunk like she wasn’t there.

“Rainbow. You can’t help me.” Twilight grimaced, clutching her side. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“No. I’m not leaving you.” Rainbow tried pulling Twilight off the floor again, and again she passed through Twilight like she wasn’t even there.

“Rainbow! I don’t have the strength to keep them out!” Twilight tried to push herself upright, but collapsed back down, panting heavily.

“No!” Rainbow danced around Twilight. She had no idea how she could help Twilight, but she wasn’t going to give up that easily. “I’m not leaving you again,” she said, her voice suddenly dry.

Twilight groaned. “I’m not giving you a choice, Rainbow.” She lit her horn, pointed it at Rainbow and before Rainbow could react, a bolt of lightning arced out, striking Rainbow in her chest. She flew backward but instead of hitting a solid floor, she fell. And fell. And fell.

“I’m sorry, Twilight!” Rainbow called out to the black void around her.

Rainbow spun around. She could tell she was falling, but beyond that, there was nothing but black. Except… a faint point of white light, far below her. A few seconds later, the point resolved into a line. She sped toward it, accelerating faster and faster. At first, it seemed so far, but she was gathering speed so quickly, soon she was falling headlong into it, the world disappeared in a burst of light.

Rainbow shot out of her bed so quickly she hit her head against the ceiling. Stunned, she floated back down, settling in between her strewn sheets. The Legacy. That’s where she was. She was onboard the Legacy, in her room. It was just another bad dream. She looked up at the pipes pumping all manner of toxic chemicals across her ceiling, separated from Rainbow by a pale blue forcefield. She amused herself with the forcefield's shimmering patterns while she gathered the strength to get out of bed.

Rainbow’s room was a dimly lit shoebox full of the evidence of months worth of apathy. Piles of unwashed clothes littered the floor from weeks ago before Rainbow had given up wearing clothes entirely. Her desk, once a pricey antique, was ruined by caked-on food and ink spills, hidden under dirty dinner plates and mugs, decorated with the shattered shards of plastic cutlery. A poster lay crinkled and trampled on the floor, having taken a section of the tacky love-heart-polka-dot wallpaper with it when it fell a week ago.

Rainbow rolled off her bed and landed on the thick rug on the floor. She kicked a dirty uniform under her bed, then dragged her cane chair over to the porthole, a trail of crumbs and dust popping up as it carved through her rug. She sat down with a creak and rested her chin on the porthole’s cold brass frame.

Outside, the blackness of space stretched out to infinity. To Rainbow’s right, the aft section of the Legacy curved outward into a sweeping wing, its layers of pipes, mechanics, and armored plates reminded Rainbow of a rotting tree trunk. She hated it. But it was home.

Rainbow sighed. Already, the details of her nightmare were fading. She let them. They were all the same anyway. She would be doing something fun with her friends, and then, just as it started to feel real, that she thought she might actually be back in Equestria with its clear skies, bright days, and warm smiles, she’d be reminded that her friends were long gone and it was her fault. She’d failed to protect them. She was alive, and they were dead. Dead, lost and forgotten to time.

The monumental weight of Rainbow’s failure climbed onto her. It would be there, always, strangling her when she felt joy, pushing her down when she tried to bring herself up. Rainbow slumped further down on her chair.

Eyes glazing over, numb to the vast expanse before them, Rainbow decided whether or not she could be bothered ordering breakfast. After five minutes, she decided she couldn’t. She continued staring out the porthole, preparing herself for a long day of doing nothing. But, for some reason, Twilight’s appearance at the end of her nightmare stuck in her mind. It felt out of place, and she hadn’t forgotten it like the rest of the dream.

Rainbow scrounged around for a pencil, eventually finding without a broken lead under her bed, and wrote down the information Twilight had given her in the dream. For some reason, it was easy to remember. “C12… ID17754…”

Rainbow’s head slumped onto her desk. Who was she kidding? This was pure desperation. What was the chance Fluttershy would really be aboard a pirate ship? Even if she’d somehow survived the attack, she would have died from old age centuries ago.

But at the very least, she could see if the ship existed. If it didn’t, then at least she’d held a moment of hope. And if it did, somehow, then she’d have a whole lot more hope than that.

Rainbow dragged herself over to her mirror, pulling off the towel draped over it. Her sunken and weary eyes stared back at her from her increasingly gaunt features.

“Information on class twelve freighter,” Rainbow barked at the mirror. As the spells weaved their magic, Rainbow closed her eyes. Why was she doing this to herself? She’d just find the ship didn’t exist and the entire thing was exactly what it looked like: a dream. It was just a cruel fantasy conjured by her mind to torment her with false hope. She wouldn’t find anything.

Just as Rainbow raised her hoof to cancel the command, her reflection swirled and disappeared. In its place, an encyclopedic entry appeared.

Rainbow started. The ship actually existed. It was a beginning, at least. Not that it meant anything; she’d probably just picked up the class designation somewhere in her year aboard the Legacy, overhearing a conversation or reading it without noticing.

Rainbow sighed. Would it hurt her to look? She forced herself to scan the page. Not in production... Long duration… plasma thrusters… Five thousand tonnes… Superseded a decade ago… boring stuff… more boring stuff. It wasn’t a ship a pirate would use—it was too slow—but at least it existed. Finding the exact ship would be more difficult, however. Mostly because it would require her to ask for help.

Rainbow opened her meager list of contacts, pausing with her hoof over a pony named ‘Voltra’. Rainbow swallowed. It had been nearly a week—she couldn’t remember the exact number of days—since she’d spoken to another pony, and then that was only Cadence checking up on her. Rainbow sighed. If this dream proved to be anything, she would have to apologize to Cadence. Even if the dream proved to be nothing, she should apologize anyway, she knew. She’d get around to it, eventually.

Rainbow collected what remained of her pride and, with a few steadying breaths, pressed the call button. The mirror rang. And rang. Rainbow locked her legs so she would just jump away. The mirror kept ringing. Rainbow’s heart beat faster. She mentally scolded herself for being ridiculous, but it didn’t help in the slightest.

Finally, the mirror swirled, and Voltra appeared: an aging unicorn stallion with a perpetual frown, his black mane streaked with gray, his pale green coat fading, a pair of half-moon glasses perched on the end of his muzzle. “Dear me, Ms. Dash, you’ve really been letting yourself go.”

Rainbow didn’t have the energy to argue, so she just ignored him. “Look, Voltra, I need some help.”

“I’ll say. Have you been seeing the counselor?”

Rainbow glared.

“When was the last time you ate? Or had a shower, for that matter? I can practically smell you, and I'm on the other side of the ship.”

Rainbow scoffed. Now, that warranted a comeback. She paused with her mouth ajar. Nothing came to her mind. As seconds ticked by, she puffed out her cheeks. “Can you just help me without complaining about how I look?”

Voltra sighed. “My wife and I are very worried about you, Ms. Dash. So is Princess Cadence. She said—”

“—Ugh!” Rainbow stomped her hoof. “I don’t care what Cadence thinks!”

Voltra fell silent. After what felt like a solid minute of staring at Rainbow, he sighed. “How can I help you, then, Ms. Dash?”

“Finally,” Rainbow muttered, rolling her eyes. “There’s a ship I want to find.”

“I’m assuming it’s a Commonwealth ship if you’re coming to me for it?”

“Ah. Well, kind of. It’s a pirate ship.”

Voltra’s frown deepened. “I hope you don’t expect me to track it.”

“No, no, of course not. I just need to know if it exists. It was a Commonwealth ship, so they should have records of it, right?”

“Very well. Ask away.”

“It’s, uh, registration is… uh… I wrote it down…” Rainbow scanned her desk for the slip of paper. She found it on top of a dirty dinner plate. She picked it up, brushing off some lingering pasta sauce. “Found it.” She flashed a smile. Voltra sipped from a mug of coffee he held in his magic, his expression otherwise unchanged. “But… ahh, yeah, it’s registration is ‘17754’.”

“Hm. Let me see.” Voltra pushed his glasses up and turned to a second screen.

Rainbow tapped her hoof while she waited. Rationally, she doubted Voltra would find anything. But if he did… Rainbow refused to let her hopes get out of hoof. He wouldn’t find anything. No way.

“Hm,” Voltra started, taking another sip of his coffee. He scowled at something out of view, presumably another mirror, a moment longer before returning to Rainbow. “Well, you’re in luck. There is a ship with that registration. A class twelve freighter. Or at least, there was: it looks like it was taken over by pirates a year or so ago. Do you mind if I ask why you wanted to know?”

Rainbow zoned out. She felt her heart pounding. Could this be it? Could she actually find Fluttershy? If Fluttershy was there, could it mean Twilight was alive, too? There was no way the exact ship registration would just magically pop into Rainbow’s head. No, Twilight must’ve found a way to get inside her dreams. She could do that, right? If Princess Luna could, it was at least possible Twilight had figured it out as well.

But if Twilight was alive, why had she resorted to communicating through a dream? Unless… hadn’t she said ‘you can’t help me, Rainbow’? Rainbow gasped. Twilight was in trouble! But then why did Twilight tell Rainbow where Fluttershy was and not where she was herself? To protect her? How bad a situation was Twilight in? Did she even know where was? Was that why she couldn’t tell Rainbow: because she didn’t know?

A polite cough interrupted Rainbow’s train of thought. “Ms. Dash? If you’re not going to respond, I will have to end this call. Not to be rude, but you did interrupt my family’s breakfast, you know.”

“I… Ah... Thank you. I have to go. Thank you so much. And sorry about your breakfast.” Rainbow slammed the ‘end conversation’ button and then stood completely frozen. Occasionally, a tremor shook through her leg. This was real. Fluttershy was alive, and Twilight was too. Could any of the others be as well? Were they out there, somewhere? She had to know.

Rainbow felt a smile wiggle on the edges of her lips. It tugged at her face, propelled by an internal surge of excitement, unsure of how to form after weeks of absence. But slowly, it worked its way into a full grin. Rainbow felt giddy.

“My friends are alive!” she shouted to her reflection, throwing her hoof into the air. She threw herself into a backward summersault, which ended abruptly when she crashed into her bed. Right: six-by-eight foot room. Rainbow threw her forelegs out onto her duvet, grinning like an idiot. As if a cloud was lifting, she noticed for the first time that she stunk. Her whole room did, in fact. She sat up. The place was a mess, even by her standards. But cleaning would have to wait. She had to tell Cadence about this. Right now.

Faster than she’d flown in months, faster than she thought she would ever fly again, Rainbow burst through her door and shot off down the corridor, leaving swinging lights, startled ponies, and the miasma of not showering in a week in her wake.

Her friends were alive. They were out there. And they needed her help.