The World on Time

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The axe in Rarity’s magic swung against the window, powerful blows ripping great big chunks out of the thickened glass. The voices that had been screaming at her, pleading for her help, had gone silent.

The downpour did nothing to extinguish the fire. Despite being soaked to the bone from the deluge, Rarity still felt the heat of the fire on her face like a blast furnace against her fur.

The fire was slowly creeping towards her, licking along the ground. It was burning black, and Rarity could smell the stench of harsh chemicals in the air. Still, she persevered, chopping at the glass with all her might.

Lives were on the line.

The hole that had started minutes ago at barely a hoof-width was now large enough for a pony to fit their head through. Still not large enough. Rarity could see them through the thick smoke, two gangly creatures hunched over in a set of chairs. They weren’t moving.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The hole was large enough for a pony to squeeze through, and Rarity hoped it was big enough. She grabbed the two creatures in her magic and pulled at them with all her might. The first one she pulled through easily enough; it didn’t weigh much. The second one gave her trouble. The hole wasn’t big enough and something had caught. The flames were closer now, the blast furnace now a screaming inferno. She pulled harder. There was a ripping noise, and not a moment too soon, the second one came loose and tumbled out onto the ground.

A jet of flame shot out into the night sky from the window, and Rarity dropped against the ground, trying not to get burned. Crawling a few paces away, she looked at the machine.

The cramped compartment that she had pulled the creatures from was flashing over, the very air burning in a sweep of flames. If she’d taken a moment longer… No, worry about what’s happening, not what could’ve happened she chided herself.

Rarity let herself lay panting next to the two gangly-looking creatures in the wet grass: the rain still fell. The rescue had taken a lot out of her. The prim-and-proper unicorn she was, she hadn’t gotten up that morning expecting to play rescue pony.

After a moment to catch her breath, she stood up and appraised the situation.

The rain had soaked the surrounding area; the fire seemed content to burn along the mysterious contraption without spreading anywhere else. Despite the situation, Rarity took a moment to appreciate the construction: a massive white machine with purple and orange accents. She smiled a little: A designer after her own heart.

The two smoldering creatures she had just pulled from certain death were lying on the grass, sprawled like ragdolls. Memories of mostly forgotten first-aid classes, taken long ago, bubbled to the surface.

“You’ll be okay, help is on the way!” Rarity yelled, more for her benefit than theirs. Her mind flickered from thought to thought. Assess the situation? Administer care? Treat for shock?

What if they’re hurt on the inside? Rarity flared her horn, preparing to cast a diagnostic spell, only to extinguish it when groans of pain changed to screams of agony.

Something’s wrong, Rarity thought. Something’s terribly wrong!