Hello, Miss Sparkle. I’ve been waiting for you.
I know you have many questions for me, but please, keep quiet until I am done speaking.
…
….Ugh, your kind are so indicative… Predictable, you might say. You are a mere speck of energy on a black universe, and yet you approach me screaming threats and demands… Don’t worry. I forgive you.
…Why do I forgive you, you ask?
Why, for your inability to do anything else. It is an inherent trait of your design that you’re angry, my dear pony. A reaction of chemicals in your head that increases your pulse, driving blood through your arteries and into your muscles. That little spark in your horn, and the way you stomp your hoof at me... It is a flicker of your own vain whims and desires, and nothing more, a burning blot on the back of your mind… A conundrum - several of them - that you’re simply dying to know the answer to.
…Why yes, my dear. You have found me at last. I have watched you grow, and study, and grow, and live, and grow, and grow, and grow… I have watched all the events of your life unfurl for you, like a foal’s storybook. Canterlot’s finest young unicorn wizard, an attendee of her majesty’s schools, and then, her personal scholar. I watched when you were moving to Ponyville, and you snuffled back tears, and then I watched you move back home again. But there were no tears then, because by that age you had mastered teleportation.
I know everything there is to know about you. So you can see why your demands do not frighten me, Miss Sparkle.
…No. I am not a mere watcher, you utter simpleton. I am your creator.
…
Dear, dear, Denial. An eventuality we were likely to stumble across. You look upon me, and refuse to believe it. Say what you will, dear, sweet child, for I know you believe it in your own mind. For decades, you have studied the very threads that make up your own world, and the… magic, or so you call it… That I have used to sew your meaningless life into a quilt of normality.
Ah, and yet… Despite my words, your existence is not altogether useless. Not to you, anyway. You have found me. I am the magnum opus of your studies. Your finest work, and you mine, although not entirely without flaw.
…
…What did I do with Fluttershy?
Of course you would. Of course… You always ask questions and ignore the other person in the conversation. I will answer succinctly, to save us both time. She has unbecome.
…Unbecome. Dead. Lack of existence. Removed.
She was an amalgamation on my world. She broke the pattern, and the only thing left was… Eradication. I believe the timber-wolves are busily attempting to strip the flesh from her bones, precisely thirty-two and a half miles into the centre of the everfree forest from her cabin.
…
Deny it away, Miss Sparkle. She was there.
…Very well. Please look at the screen beside me.
…
…Ah, realization. I watched it pass your features briefly. That particular shade of violet in your eyes is genetically the rarest, and scientifically, the most telling.
Grief will not help you, nor her.
…Why, do you ask?
Because of you, my dear.
You and your friends are based on a similar model. You each possess your little quips and quirks, built-in for my own amusement, but essentially you are the same – based on one particular affirmation that gives you a particular attachment to the rest of your species. Friendship.
She was out searching for you. Your own selfish desires to look in places that are not meant to be looked have been punished. Punished by me.
You see, I knew in the very beginning you would come to me. And I know, even now as I speak to you, that your mind is busy calculating what has become of your other friends, and what your being here might mean, and the fact that just by being here, events have been triggered that cannot be undone. Your flaw has caused this.
…
…That is correct. Fluttershy was an event of the near future, one that we have now passed. One that only you could fill, and one you have filled. By being here, by pursuing your purpose, you have inadvertently caused the death of Fluttershy.
…
Likewise, your dear friend Rarity has dissolved into hysterics. In years to come, she too will die. She will suffer a stroke brought on by a lifetime of stress. Her own obsession with perfection, her meticulous, compulsive fixation on that one goal… She is by far the more interesting of your friends to watch, so it is only fitting that she should experience life Anno Twilight.
...
I took particular relish in watching for your reaction then. I have scarcely measured such pure sadness before, and yours was unspoiled by any falsity or vanity. Delightful.
…
…Ah, Anger. The second emotion that was created in this particular rendition of your world. And the conjuration of flame... That too, was one of the things I worked hard at.
…Wail all you want. Nobody is going to hear you here.
…
Not going to cry, are we?... How interesting. Your predecessors took time to grieve when they realised what they had done. The same experiment has produced an increasingly resistant result.
…Who are your predecessors, you ask?
As always, an irrelevant question, but you were never one to keep your mouth closed, were you?... No, others have found me before. The first went insane when I told him, and attacked me. The second was catatonic with grief. The third cried for a full twenty-six minutes. The fourth cried for five. You are the ninth, my dear.
To answer your upcoming question, you are an anomaly. Your life is the sum of a remainder of an unbalanced equation inherent to the creation of my world.
You are the result of one particular piece of sewing, one strike of the needle, causing a loop; one frayed thread touching another; one little thing that my perfect world doesn’t cater to. Every time I get rid of you, you come back, again and again, and so I have resigned myself to you being here.
…
...Your naivety was also part of your design. If you needed proof, then consider your very presence here. You stand in the workshop of the maker, the creator. That is proof.
…
…Quite right. I created the alicorns. I un-created them in the same way.
…
I suppose you are technically correct. They are not dead. Yet. But perhaps you should observe the clock on the wall. That one, with the sun and the moon upon it. It portrays time as I know it, and time as you know it. Every second is a week if I will it to be. Every lifetime or generation, if I so desire. I did that for a different line of ponies, known as the Starswirl line – I skipped his entire third incarnation’s life. Half an hour may be days for you, and hours of work can pass in a few stuttering seconds.
…
The other clocks? They are the others.
…
…My other creations, dear child. Other worlds.
…
Yes. I know you are not so childish and scientifically-minded that you would not assume the logical possibility of another universe or dimensions. I have made them, and there they are.
…
…I know all events. Not just yours. I know events that are going to be because I am the designer. I have already taken the lives of every pony you know and ever will know, and it is only a matter of time.
…No, that is not a result of you coming here, dear child. Celestia and her evil little sister Moon were long overdue for removal, but I could not ensure their removal without fundamentally destroying the world that I created. Neither could I simply snap my fingers and change the very constants of the universe without endangering everything else I had built within it.
But I have found a solution. I have found a solution to the problem.
...
Ah, you ask a pertinent question. Why you are here. You exceed my expectations. Seven and Eight asked the same, but it took them much longer. It has to do with the solution.
…You are here because Equestria is about to be destroyed. Its every living inhabitant terminated, its entire existence removed.
…
Because the only answer to your world was to do away with ponykind as a whole, and re-mould my creation with a grander, more certain event. In order to fix the current imperfections, I must restore world to a blank slate, and start again.
…
Denial, denial, denial. Again, and so predictable. Your princesses were one element of the problem that plagued me for some time, and regrettably, one that will result in the end of your world. A logical impossibility, an immortal being with the power to control the sun and moon. What if one of those beings was to be slain? What if they became malevolent, as one has already in your world? And how would more come about without my direct interference?
Those are only a few of the questions I must answer, Twilight Sparkle. Nightmare moon turning half of your world into a barren wasteland was a mistake. My mistake.
…
How? Eight asked that. It is irrelevant. Fire and ice are easily my favourites. But rest assured, this will be the ninth time I have destroyed it.
And I have become exceedingly efficient at it.
…
…Ah, what to do with yourself, you wonder?
Your choices are many. You could be like One, and attack me. You could be like Two, and dissolve into a sobbing wreck. Eight decided to stay and watch rather than make a choice. Five said she would rather die, and did so. Choose, or do not choose. My only interest is in your response to the following choice...
The door to your left will take you back to your world. But it will not be your world in a reality that ends – more a copy. You will be preserved, along with all your friends, as a creation - a few moments in history, fragments of time in which your world is preserved. The others of my kind will be able to look at these shards of your world, and admire you, and possibly even grow to love you. They will only be little pockets - memories of certain days and certain moments, and nothing more. But you will not see any of this. You will remember nothing. Life as you know it will be restored to a particular moment in time - in this case, it will be your arrival at ponyville. That is the easiest memory that I can redesign your world from.
…
…Yes, I am not wholly unkind. It means you may carry on with your petty existence, oblivious, and I will see to it that the problems with your world are fixed. I will change alicorns so that they are always essentially kind. I will change your reality, so that all you know is happiness and joy.
…And friendship, of course, and your you may keep your magic, too... Though you may have to find both all over again. It will be difficult, but there must be some punishment for you. You were never meant to look here. But, I do not scorn you for it. I will ensure that you never find me again. You will sleep in eternity and re-live your life.
…And when the time comes, you will be able to change Luna back to her old self again, though you will not know it. I will bestow upon you and your friends a power that only you can wield, and it will be entirely up to you to save your world. You will battle to save your world for the rest of your life, too – you will do battle with the King of Chaos, and prevail in light of all hope being lost, and you will rescue your brother from the hands of an evil changeling Queen, hell-bent on feasting on your love for eachother.
…
No. Those evils I listed are not mistakes. They are elements of your world that I have included to test you. But you will never know that.
…
I will restore your memory to many years ago. You will never know that other worlds exist. You will not even remember this conversation, and you will not obsess with discovering the secrets of the universe.
…
No, Twilight Sparkle, your life is not an illusion, and neither is your world. Life is what you make of it. If there were grander beings than I controlling my destiny and my fate, I would not know about them, and as a result anything I see and do would fall within the boundaries of my life.
Similarly, your life will not be a mere machination of mine, and neither will your world. It will be your world. It has always been your world, but I am a poor artist. I only possess one easel, and I must remove the painting upon it… For now.
Don’t be afraid. I created you to be brave. Brave, and smart.
…
Come now, my little pony. No tears now. I know it's a big thing to grasp, but I know you are capable of accepting it fully.
…
I... I don’t think any of the ones before you have nuzzled me. I forgot how soft I made your coat...
...
I see you have resigned yourself to your choice. But what of the other door, you ask yourself?
That door leads back to your world, as imperfect as you know it. The world will still be ravaged by nightmare moon, and terrors and monstrosities will walk the night. Discord will squabble with the Queen of shadow for power. It is the other, unfixed version of your world – a copy of your world as-is that you can return to. But you will remember everything. Your friend Fluttershy will not be revived, nor will I revive her for your sake. You will remember how you broke the rules, and how you met the creator, but you will be back among your friends again. Rarity will recover. Moon will fight the Sun for control, and I will give you a chance to fight her too, if you so wish. But when all is said and done, that world will shine.
…
Yes, I can see the future in that world. It is a bright one for your friends, but it comes with it great loss. Your life, to be precise. You will live on in memory, hailed as a heroine for all of Celestia’s life.
...
…Yes. It does not seem like a very hard choice to make, between left and right. One life lived in oblivious happiness and another of perpetual struggle and bitter regret makes a poor comparison when put side by side. But, when you are finished in your own world, you may come and assist me. That will be your reward.
…
Yes. I will not hinder you, no matter what you choose. I already know what you’re going to do, to an extent.
…
I suppose your choice is somewhat of an illusion. It would be a total illusion to any other of your fellows, but you and your friends, and your Princesses… The imperfections in my world… You might refuse the fate I have seen. In your instance, I can see what has passed, and what may be, but nothing more... Only uncertainty, based on your own free will. You have choice, Twilight Sparkle. That is another inherent flaw of your design. Even now, I can see you striving to make a choice, battling the notion that the left door is the coward's way out, and the right door is the way back to your 'real' friends, as they were.
…
Those are the alternatives I offered to your forbearers, if they made it this far in the conversation.
…
Of your predecessors, only Seven has chosen, and she chose the left door.
...
My plans, you ask? For the next incarnation?
…I do not know. I cannot predict my own future. Only your own.
…
My name? You have my name. I am the builder, the architect, the director, the editor of your world.
…
I do have a real name. And why should I share it?
…
Very well. I will trade it for an answer. You were going to pick left, weren’t you?
…
I thought so.
You may call me Lauren.
Step this way, please.
NB: Smashed this one out one morning after having a philosophy attack. Don't forget to tell me if you enjoyed it :)
