Life Support

Chapters

Chapter 1: Donations
Chapter 2: Alterations
Chapter 3: Broken Chain
Chapter 4: Bureaucratic Barriers
Chapter 5: Counter Intelligence
Chapter 6: Allies
Chapter 7: Function Call
Chapter 8: Interrupt Routine
Chapter 9: Hardware Upgrade
Chapter 10: Heroes
Epilogue

Chapter 1: Donations

Flynn stared at the rectangular package on the bed in front of him. It was wrapped in brown paper; the same kind people had once used to contain old packages. Not only that, but it had been tied up with twine—almost like it had been decorated. Flynn’s hands were weak, and he barely had the strength to pull the envelope out from inside. Down the hall, he could hear the happy squealing of his fellow children—an uncommon sound indeed in St. Justin's Hospice. Something exciting must be in these packages. But what?

Flynn spread the paper out on the bed in front of him with a shaking hand, squinting down at the words. He might be an orphan—everyone at St. Justin's was an orphan—but he hadn’t always been. Lots of other kids his age didn’t know how to read. But Flynn knew. It was one of the few things he could do better than the others here.

“Hello Flynn Murphy,

When my father passed from this earth, he wished to see our family’s fortune used to benefit those most deserving. Please accept this gift on his behalf. Use this window into a better world as I did, and find joy there. Equestria is waiting.

Warmest Regards,

Clement Edmondson”

Flynn tossed the box onto the floor beside his bed as though he’d just discovered it contained venomous snakes. The monitors attached to his chest began to beep more rapidly with his agitation, but he didn’t care. The nurses wouldn’t notice. Flynn ripped the letter into tiny pieces and scattered them as far away from him as he could, like some mystical incantation against the evil that had been delivered to him. As the other children from up and down the halls cheered and giggled, he cowered.

He remained that way until he heard the sound a familiar cane from down the hall, moving a little quicker than usual. Caroline couldn’t move quickly at the best of times—though at least she didn’t need a wheelchair. Flynn could only envy that mobility, remembering with fondness a time when he hadn’t needed a wheelchair. Much had been better back then. He’d still had a family then. They hadn’t abandoned him yet.

Caroline came through the open doorway to his private room, walking slowly and leaning on her cane. She was a wiry little thing, as skinny and unhealthy as most of the kids here. Four feet of cheerful determination, despite her condition. There was more happiness in Caroline than in half the hospice. Unfortunately, she had brought her own “gift” from Clement Edmondson, resting under one arm.

“Hey Flynn. Did you…” she stopped every few steps, keeping herself as calm as she could. That was never an easy thing for someone as cheerful and optimistic as Caroline. “Oh, you dropped it. Let me…”

“No,” he replied, folding his arms. “Don’t.” Were Caroline anyone else, he would’ve screamed. But she was his best friend. If anyone deserved friends who took care of her, it was Caroline. “I want it as far away as possible. Get a nurse—tell them to throw it away for me please.”

“Throw it away?” she asked, stopping beside his bed, and setting her Ponypad down on the bedside table. She turned it slightly to face him, so that he could see the screen. Flynn looked away on reflex, as though she’d just showed him the aftermath of a suicide jumper. He still caught a few seconds of exposure to the painfully cute creatures on the screen, several gathered around in apparent eagerness. “Are you mental, Flynn? You just got a Ponypad! Kids out there are fighting over these. They can’t make enough to keep up.”

He shook his head vigorously. A little too vigorously, as the sudden motion induced a fresh wave of nausea. He looked away, steadying himself against the side of the bed. “I don’t care,” he said again. “I don’t want one.”

Caroline lifted her own away from the table, clutching it with her free hand. “We could play together,” she said. “Team up on the same server. Lots of us are playing together. Elijah is there, Courtney’s there, and Hector too…”

“Great.” He glared down at the brown box that had been sent for him. “I hope you guys have lots of fun. I don’t want to play. I know what happens to people who play those.”

“Huh?” Caroline looked down at the pad she was holding, confused. “What happens? It’s just a game.”

“You’ve been in places like this too long,” Flynn said. “I haven’t. I had a real family… and they taught me Equestria Online sucks. You shouldn’t play it either.”

Caroline sniffed, wiping her face with one of her sleeves. Then she turned away. “Whatever Flynn. Have fun by yourself.”

Flynn opened his mouth to shout back at her, but shut it again. He didn’t really understand what he’d apparently done… but that didn’t matter. Girls could be confusing sometimes. Even Caroline, the best girl he knew.

Caroline wasn’t the only one to visit him. A few minutes later, and Jose hobbled in, his own bright purple Ponypad under one arm.

“Get that junk out,” Flynn said, glaring at his friend as he made his way to one of the chairs and sat down. “You can’t bring that in here.”

Jose ignored him, pausing only to scratch the recently-shaved skin on his head before hopping up into his usual chair. Despite this being Flynn’s room, Jose practically owned that spot. His Magic card collection was there, along with the origami he’d folded while sitting there. The huge pile on the windowsill made it look like he’d improved in his folding as he added to the collection… but Flynn knew they’d gone the other way.

Jose pushed his Magic cards aside and set the Ponypad down on the table, with Twilight Sparkle’s cutie mark facing Flynn.

“I said get it out!” Flynn called, raising his voice just a little. “Those things are evil. They’re haunted.”

“They ain’t,” Jose argued. “I wish they were, though. They should haunt you for making Carrie cry.”

“Stuff it.” Flynn tossed an empty applesauce cup from his bedside tray towards Jose. It didn’t even make it to the edge of the bed. “She just wants me to play the dumb game. I won’t.”

Jose seemed to be ignoring him. He adjusted his glasses, taking the controller out from his pocket, and plugging it into the pad. Even from across the room, Flynn could hear a pony’s voice from the pad. He could still recognize the way they sounded, even after not hearing one for over a year. They were too musical, too perfect. Monsters.

“This is the friend you wanted to be with?” said the voice, nervous. “He sounds mean.”

“Oh, he’s not that bad,” Jose said, louder than was necessary. “Flynn is just a butthead when he doesn’t get his way. Something good happens for us, and he’s mad because he says nothing is ever good.”

“Am not!” Flynn argued, reaching for something else to throw. There was nothing else but a fork, and he didn’t want to hurt Jose. So, he settled for throwing a pillow instead. This time he got close, nearly knocking over the Ponypad. “I’m trying to help. Those things are like… those evil spiky plants that eat people.” He made a snapping motion with one hand. “That’s what they do to you.”

“Is that true?” the pony’s faint voice said through the Ponypad.

“No,” Jose grunted. “Look, I’ll be back Daisy Chain.” He waved, then pressed a button on the top of the screen, before setting it face-down on the table. Then he looked up. “Why are you being such a butt?”

Flynn was about to argue, until he realized he was about to be a butt. He took a deep breath, straightening himself out against the back of the bed. “I’m not wrong,” he eventually said. “I know it’s a fun game. I used to play it for hours and hours every day… but it’s not just a game. People kill themselves over that game. It’s so good that they’d rather be there than out here, and blam!” He made a gun gesture towards the side of his head with one hand. “ROADKILL. And then we eat them.”

Jose took a moment to chew on that one. Like Caroline, he had spent most of his life in the system. If he’d been anywhere else, he might not be dying. “Everything you say gets dumber,” he said. “I’ve heard about emi—emigoing—whatever it is. Jesus keeps her from lying to you.”

“Now who’s being stupid?” Flynn banged one of his fists against the back wall, next to the wooden cross mounted above his bed. “If he can’t save us when we’re sick, he can’t save people from Celestia. Just remember, Jose… one day, you’re gonna be having the best time ever on that thing, and your friends who don’t exist will start talking about how worried they are about you. ‘It’s so awful out there,’ they’ll say, or maybe, ‘If you came to Equestria you wouldn’t be sick anymore.’ You’ll brush it off… but next thing you know you’re hearing it in your sleep, and your parents are talking about how great it would be if you just died.”

Jose laughed bitterly. “Then all of us are safe. If we had parents, we wouldn’t be here. So, you can play with us.” He got up and pointed out the hall. “Everybody’s playing. Are you really gonna be a loser all by yourself?”

“Yes.” He folded his arms. “Very.”

“What if it stays fun?” Jose asked. “You roll out in your wheelchair, and everybody’s playing.”

“Then I’ll get the Xbox all to myself,” he said flatly.

“Okay, sure.” Jose picked up the box from where Flynn had dropped it. He set it up on the side table, then removed the string. He started unwrapping it. “We’ll see.”

“Wasting your time,” Flynn said. He wasn’t even surprised that the Ponypad inside was the Rainbow Dash design. His favorite pony. The same as his old pad. The new ones were nicer—they were wireless, they could keep going for days without charging, and apparently had a way better screen. Flynn didn’t care. “I’m just gonna throw it in the trash. Where they all belong.”

“Sure you are.” Jose opened the box carefully, pulling out the Ponypad. He didn’t put it within Flynn’s reach, or switch it on. Instead, he pushed aside some of his crude origami with one shaking hand, and propped it up against the window. This way, Flynn would’ve been able to see the screen, if anything was on it. At least he didn’t turn it on.

“My nurse will be here in a few minutes,” he said. “She’ll just throw it away.”

“Sure,” Jose said again, turning to go. He stopped in the doorway. “What’s the real reason you’re being so dumb about this, Flynn? You get so excited when people send us a single used Xbox for the game room… Some fancy rich guy spends thousands to get us nicer toys than kids have on the outside, and you… freak out.”

Flynn might not have answered, if he’d been more collected. He really didn’t want to. But the words came almost without his prompting them. “Cuz’ I’m not making up anything I said about them. One day I used a Ponypad. Then I got sick. Then I stayed sick. Then my whole family died. Then they threw me in this stupid place with you.”

Jose made a rude gesture with his empty hand. “Screw you too, Flynn. I should turn that thing on before I go.” He didn’t, though. Jose walked away, snapping the door shut behind him. Flynn hated having the door shut, but he couldn’t reach that far to open it. He pressed the “nurse” button on the side of his bed for the thousandth time that afternoon, not expecting a response. None came, as usual.

Flynn was forced to spend the next few hours alone, staring at the little camera at the top of his Ponypad, knowing it was watching him.

“I hate you,” he said, any time he thought it was listening. “I hate you.”

Author's Note

I'll update the story again tomorrow to catch up with patreon, and then we'll be onto the weekly schedule from then on. Hopefully this story ends up being fun. I think I've found a different angle for this one than the typical. Let me know how I do.

Chapter 2: Alterations

Every one of Flynn’s worst fears was confirmed. It wasn’t just that things at the hospice changed—things at the hospice were always changing. It was, rather, that everything changed. His friends still visited him, helped push his wheelchair around the grounds on days he could leave his bed. They still played the same handful of board games together every night.

Still the arrival of Ponypads had brought change, and even with his hatred of Equestria and those who lived there, Flynn couldn’t ignore it. Instead of bleak, pitiful noises, St. Justin’s was filled with laughter and conversation. Fights—which had previously all been about access to the pool table, or the board games, or the Xbox—no longer happened. Everyone had their own game. When some kids “left”, new ones got their old Ponypads.

Equestria became part of conversation—from what Flynn heard, all those who knew each other in real life could interact in the game. In a world where they weren’t all dying, where they weren’t all sick, and stuck in a tiny building for their last few months of life. A world where they had new friends, and even families to care for them. These comments were the most upsetting of all.

So, while the introduction of Ponypads to St. Justin’s Hospice brought joy to many, for Flynn there was only greater isolation and greater loneliness. His health got worse while others improved.

And he wasn’t shy about telling his friends. “It’s garbage,” he shouted, pointing up at his own Ponypad where it sat on the top of his bookshelf. The nurses had refused to throw it away, and had caught him trying to break it on more than one occasion, so they’d put it where he couldn’t reach. “I knew this was gonna happen. Everyone likes the stupid game so much they’re running away from the real world. Even you guys!”

Whenever his friends came to hang out with him, they usually brought their Ponypads. Not to play—they did that on their own. But just to keep close, the screens still active windows out onto whatever Equestrian vista was depicted there. Flynn didn’t care, and tried to see them as little as possible.

Jose looked away from his own as Flynn said that, turning it away from his face. “Do not!”

“No, we do.” Caroline folded her arms in her lap, calm as ever. “But… Flynn, you’re just saying what the grown-ups say. I’ve heard that on TV.”

“So?”

“So… maybe it makes sense out there.” She gestured towards the window with her cane. It was cold outside, the world covered with snow. Much too cold for children like them to be out in the playground. Not that the playground got much use in general. Few of them were strong enough, or they wouldn’t have been at St. Justin’s in the first place. “But…” She took a deep breath. “Flynn, our lives suck. Why shouldn’t we play? It’s better in there.”

“I—” he began, but trailed off. He didn’t have an answer.

Caroline grinned—she had him now. “Because we’re gonna die?” She rapped on the glass with her cane. “Out there, maybe that’s true. In here…” She looked down. “We’re gonna die. The Ponypads aren’t doing it.”

“Maybe not for you,” he grunted. “Celestia poisoned me.”

His friends both rolled their eyes. They tried not to let him see, but he saw. He always saw.

“Maybe you should just… play a different kinda game.” Jose got up, making his way over to the bookshelf. It was too tall for him too. Given how pained and uncoordinated he was, it was probably too hard for him to climb at this point. Caroline could’ve climbed it, but that kind of exertion would be bad for her failing heart. “You don’t have to do what we’re doing.”

“I’ve played before,” he said. “I know how it works.”

“Then why don’t you log in and tell Celestia you hate her. Tell her everything you’re always telling us. Tell her instead of playing a game where you make friends with ponies, you wanna… blow ‘em up!” Jose gestured violently with one hand. “Boom! Gross bits everywhere!”

“Eww,” Caroline muttered.

“I…” Flynn hesitated. His parents had always taught him that hurting people didn’t solve problems. But they’d hurt him badly, and now he was solved. In their eyes, anyway. Or else why would they have abandoned him? “Maybe.”

“Gimmie your stick.” Jose put out his hand expectantly.

Caroline glared. “Cane.” She gave it to him anyway.

“Cane,” he corrected, batting it against the edge of the Ponypad, knocking it closer and closer to the edge. Flynn smiled expectantly—no way Jose had the dexterity to catch it while it fell. It would smash on the old brick floor and break into a million pieces. Then his friends couldn’t bug him about playing anymore.

It did fall, exactly as he predicted. It landed case-side-down, and there was a faint plastic-cracking sound. Flynn’s grin got wider. “Oops, you broke it. Looks like I don’t have to—”

“Shut up.” Jose scooped it up with some difficulty. The plastic case on the back had been cracked a little, but there was no other visible damage. When he pressed the button, the screen came on and filled with the “Equestria Online” startup sequence. There was none of the “broken rainbow” effect of a broken screen. “See? It’s fine.” He set it down on the bedside table in front of Flynn.

“So… what, I have to play now?”

“Yeah,” Jose said. “It’s no fun not having you. Even if we had to go blow ponies up, that would be better than nothing. I don’t have lots of… lots of time left.”

None of them did. But Jose’s days were the most numbered. He probably had less than a month left before he would be in bed like Flynn. After that… well, nobody wanted to talk about it.

“Okay, fine.” He folded his arms. “Go ahead and guilt me into it. I’ll try the stupid game for an hour, okay? If it sucks like I remember… I’ll stop.” But that was already a lie. Equestria Online had been the most fun he ever had with a game, ever. Almost everyone said that, no matter how old they were, or what kind of person they were. It was every game to everyone.

Caroline rose, resting her weight on her cane. “Good,” she said. “Maybe when you’re done killing stuff you can get some friendship lessons. I think you need to brush up.”

They left Flynn alone with the Ponypad. He spent long minutes staring at the “sign in” screen, hand frozen just out of reach of the tablet. His old character had already come up the second the machine came on—a bright orange pegasus with cream on its mane tipped in black. He’d gone on many adventures in Equestria with that character, both before his sickness and during his gradual decline. He could practically feel the wind in his hair from those flights.

Of course, the Ponypad was haunted. There were three ghosts inside, probably loads more. If he wasn’t careful, they might get him.

Flynn pressed the image of his character, and was unsurprised to see the throne room of Canterlot Castle appear on the screen. That was always where Celestia first met him, after a long time away. That was where he’d stood in the Equestrian Experience, back when he’d had a choice to make.

She didn’t yell at him, didn’t even say anything for a long moment. Just looked, as impassive and friendly as ever. “Hello, Entry Vector. It’s good to see you again. I hope you’ve been well.”

“I’m not,” he said, yanking the controller over to him and putting it in his hands. He didn’t do anything with it yet, though. “I’m dying of the cancer you gave me.”

She didn’t argue with him. Instead, she just looked at him for a long time. The camera seemed to zoom in towards her, focusing on her expression. One of pain, loss. None of those angry emotions Flynn would expect from a monster like her.

“You don’t want to see them,” she eventually said.

“Ever,” he responded, his voice low and dangerous. “Never ever, or I won’t come back.”

“Not now,” she said, sighing slightly. “You won’t meet them here. Is that good enough?”

He grunted assent.

“I… don’t think you want the same Equestria you used to visit. There are ponies there you don’t want to see. Would you like to see somewhere else?”

“Yes,” he said. “I want to be with people who hate Equestria as much as I do. Who hate you as much as I do. Bet you can’t do that. Bet you won’t.”

“I can,” she said. “I want your experience with Equestria Online to be as satisfying as possible, Entry Vector. I think I know a few people like that. If you ever change your mind and want to talk to me, you know how to get my attention. Otherwise… I’ll leave you alone.”

“Good,” Flynn said. “Great. Bye forever.”

The screen went black, almost as though she were obeying his command. But then, Celestia had always been willing to do what he said. It was just that, whenever she did, her obedience would always turn out to be serving her own evil plans, somehow. This was probably evil too… but if he knew she was evil, he could look out for it. Maybe getting back into the game would give him a chance to save his friends. That seemed like a good excuse.

A new image appeared on the screen, a projection of somewhere he’d never seen before. It looked a little like the deck of a ship from one of those pirate movies, with rigging and sails and cannons and other cool stuff. Because this was EO, there weren’t any people on the deck. But there weren’t very many ponies either. Also because this was EO, it was flying through the air without apparent support, through the clouds instead of the ocean.

It was a little hard to tell, because the camera appeared to be pointed straight down at the deck, swinging slightly from side to side. Then it dropped, and his character made a pained “oof” sound, before rising to his hooves.

He was surrounded by half a dozen fierce-looking creatures. They were a little like ponies, but bigger, with feathers instead of a furred-looking coat. They also had beaks, and claws on their front legs, and very angry expressions.

One of them lunged forward with a sharp cutlass in her claw, pointing it right at his screen. “Prisoner!” she commanded. “You’ve been caught by the privateers of the Broken Chain! You fight for an evil country. Since we haven’t caught and punished the monsters enslaving us, we’ll at least punish all the ones we catch.” She pointed past him with her sword, where there was an opening in the deck. His character looked down behind him, and in doing so saw his wings were tied with thick rope. Brief struggling was all he needed to tell he wouldn’t be able to escape.

There were no clouds down there either. These privateers had thought of everything. “Any last words?”

The one speaking was smaller than many of her crewmates—probably a girl griffon, though it was hard to tell with some of the things in Equestria. She also sounded about the same age as his character—an older teenager, because that’s what he had pictured himself to be like when he was grown up. Any older was just beyond his mind to imagine.

“Yeah,” he said, looking into the camera. It was an easy pattern to fall into, one he had an awful lot of practice with. Over a year he’d talked into that camera, pretending he was talking to real people. And sometimes he was. “You have the wrong guy.” His character said “pony.” It was still censoring him like he remembered too. “If I could kill Celestia with my own two hands—” hooves. “I’d do it right now. There isn’t anyone on this ship who hates her as much as I do.”

The other griffons had been whispering to each other, making threats. The ship went quiet, except for the faint sound of wind through the sails.

“Is that so?” She lowered her sword a little. “What she’d do to you, then? Your pillows weren’t soft enough?” Uproarious laughter.

Flynn glared into the screen. “She murdered my family.”

The laughing stopped. Griffons stared, all of them speechless for a long, quiet moment.

Then the one with the sword approached him, giving Flynn a chance to get a better look at her. She had crisp white fur, with gray stripes that ran up and down her body like a tiger. She also had the rusting remains of manacles around her paws and claws. Badges of honor. “I’m Gina, pony. Who are you?”

“Flynn,” he tried to say. Of course, Celestia didn’t let him, because she was a tyrant even here. “Entry Vector,” his character said, in his exact voice.

Her sword slashed past him to one side, cutting the rope free from his wings. “Welcome to the Broken Chain, Vector.”

Chapter 3: Broken Chain

Flynn’s friends hadn’t been lying to him when they said the new Ponypads were the best they’d ever made. Maybe not as nice as the augmented reality headsets, but… impressive nonetheless. He marveled at the immersive sound-projection, which seemed to fill the entire room when he was playing alone, but got quiet whenever he looked away or someone else came in. Even more impressive was the passive 3D, like Nintendo’s old handhelds but far more effective. The effect was so natural he hadn’t even noticed he was seeing it until he’d been playing for hours.

Gina introduced him to the other privateers of the Broken Chain, each of whom had suffered atrocities at the hooves of Equestria or its tyrants. Gina herself had scars and a sightless eye she attributed to their abuses—many others were even worse off. A small part of Flynn’s memory balked at the image of Equestria these privateers painted. Nothing they said even resembled the place he’d once known, back when Celestia had tricked him into being her friend.

Ultimately, he didn’t care. Equestria deserved every bad thing the privateers had to say and more. He would fit right in.

“So, what do you all do?” he’d asked, when they had finished with introductions, armed him with his own cutlass and old-fashioned blunderbuss, and they’d moved to the front of the ship. There he could look over the edge, at the barren land zooming past below them. This was the Badlands, the southern border of Equestria. At least it was in this shard.

“Important work,” Gina said, as though daring him to question her. “We help people get out from under their hooves.” She glared off the front of the ship, up north. Towards Equestria. “Equestria is always finding new ways to grind people down. We get them out, get them to safety. A few stick around. Like you, Vector?”

“Yes,” he agreed, nodding. “I didn’t know it was even possible to get out of Equestria. I kinda thought the world was flat, and if you went too far you’d fall off the side.”

A male griffon twice his size, who had introduced himself only as “Talon”, laughed. “Typical pony lies,” he said. “They fill your mind; your brain goes soft. Soft, weak. Not like us.”

“So, what’s out there?” He turned away from Equestria, pacing back towards the stern. “If we get away from Equestria, from her…”

“Everything else,” Gina said, like she was talking to a child. “The planet’s big, Vector. Equestria isn’t the only part. It isn’t even the biggest part. Down there… we’re helping to set up our own country. Made up of everyone who won’t live under Celestia’s tyranny.” The longer she kept speaking, the prouder she sounded. “Not just birds! The ones living there are like us up here! Griffons, minotaurs, dragons… even a pony or two.”

“Quite a few ponies,” someone else said. A burly minotaur named “Hotcakes.” “Lots of aliens got tricked into coming to her. Then they realized how much they hated her, and…” He shrugged. “They needed a way out. That’s us. No ship is better at getting ponies out than the Broken Chain.”

Flynn’s mouth fell open as he considered the implications of what he was hearing. “Y-you… said…”

“Aliens?” They’d reached the stern of the ship, on the raised deck with the helm, Captain Blackbeak, and all their navigation equipment. Still no sign of what kept the airship in the air, but that was Equestria. “Like…”

“From the Outer Realm,” Gina said. “Maybe you’ve heard of them? Strange monsters… like minotaurs, only naked. They get tricked into making a deal with the tyrant, and then…” she shook her claws a little, rattling the heavy iron of the chains against each other. “Suddenly they look like you and they’re her slaves.

“Oh, the ponies pretend to love them back… but it’s all a lie. They’re all in on it, all working for her. Even though she makes things comfortable for them, they’re really locked in her box.” She stopped, turning back to face him. “You ever meet a pony like that, Vector?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Maybe a few.”

“Good!” Blackbeak said, making his way over and resting one claw on his shoulder. In true privateer fashion, his other claw had been replaced with a peg-leg. “We’re making good time for Dodge Junction. Our friends up in captivity have been helping the latest group of slaves make their way towards the border. We’ll fly through town, steal the train they’re riding, and none of them will know it wasn’t just robbery.” He grinned. “You ever rob a train?”

“No,” Flynn said. “But it sounds awesome.”

“Good.” Blackbeak’s smile got wider. “Because you’re a pony. You’ll have to use that—earn your keep aboard my ship.”

“Sure.” Flynn nodded, and his window into the virtual world seemed to nod up and down as well. Not fast enough that it was nauseating to look at. It was just the right speed. “They’ll just let us fly right in and do it?”

“No Wonderbolts in Dodge Junction,” Gina said. “We’ve got friends there, making sure. By the time ponies hear about us, we’ll already be gone. They never follow us much past the border. That’s where the world ends, remember?”

He nodded. He hadn’t gotten that idea from nowhere. Even in the old Equestria he’d known, ponies thought that. Or something like it. It wasn’t that the world ended with Equestria, rather that the idea of a world beyond Equestria was difficult to conceive of. But he was human, and humans were too smart to fall into intellectual tricks. Celestia couldn’t fool him.

The plan was simple, really. Vector would fly into town, get aboard the train, then find his way to the car holding the slaves. From there all he had to do was wait until the train got far enough from town, then disengage the locks on both sides of the car. Once he started, the Broken Chain would fly in with reinforcements, since there were bound to be guards aboard.

He was a little reluctant to leave his new friends behind—if he let them get out of his sight, Celestia might realize she’d made a mistake by letting him get to know them, and take him away.

But how could he refuse? They were saving humans from Celestia! Was he supposed to just leave them trapped in Equestria forever? True, there was nothing the privateers could do to get the former humans back out of Celestia’s world. Everyone knew that was impossible. But at least they could help them get to a part of it she didn’t rule.

Dodge Junction wasn’t a part of Equestria he’d ever visited. Even so, it looked much like he remembered. Earth ponies, subdued colors, old-fashioned construction. Exactly the sort of old-western setting to stage a heist.

He bought a ticket for the passenger car of the express, and boarded without the guards giving him a second look. Flynn didn’t remember so many guards… but it makes sense. Celestia has been tricking so many people I’m probably not the only one who hates her. She has to put soldiers out to stay in control, just like bad people in the real world did. It made sense.

The train left Dodge Junction right on schedule, and Flynn made his way towards the front of the train—as though he were going to use the facilities. But when nopony was looking, he slipped out into the mail car instead.

There were half a dozen sorter-ponies hard at work inside, going through packages and letters and scrolls. Most didn’t even look up from their work as his character walked confidently down the center.

It was nice to be able to walk again.

At the end of the mail car was a gruff-looking pony with a black mane and huge curly mustache, who watched him coming with annoyance and suspicion. “Who are you?” he asked, as soon as he was close enough to shout. “You’re not one of mine. Get back to the passenger car.”

Flynn played dumb, wandering forward as though he were a lost passenger. At least until he got close, and punched the stallion in the face.

The pony didn’t see it coming. He crumpled, but not before one of the workers looked over. She screamed, pointing with one hoof.

The mail car descended into chaos. But Flynn was prepared for that—he reached into his coat, and pulled out the large smoke-bomb he’d brought, held the fuse towards the gas-lamp, then tossed it behind him.

Thick white smoke filled the car, along with what he assumed was a noxious, horrible odor. He could only guess about that, based on the sounds of revulsion the ponies made before he slammed the door shut behind him, and jammed a piece of metal in the mechanism. They wouldn’t be getting out of there anytime soon.

He made his way into the next car, which was transporting cargo. Helmets, spears, and armor were arranged in sections here, freshly made and glittering. Like she’s making an army. On a whim, Flynn ditched his coat, tossing it back behind the shelves while he shrugged into some fresh armor.

He hadn’t played in ages, but it didn’t matter. His character seemed to know his intentions no matter what button he pushed. And it wasn’t playing for him—he stopped at one point, and his character stopped too, looking confused and overwhelmed by the situation.

But Flynn wasn’t overwhelmed, he was excited! He charged into the next car, eyes widening as he saw who it contained. A troop transport, with a dozen Royal Guards scattered about. Most were resting, but a few were watching the door he’d come through with concern.

“What’s going on, private?” one of them asked. “What’s all that screaming?”

“Robbers!” he shouted, pointing back with his spear as energetically as he could. “A dozen ponies are back there, robbing the passengers! I think they brought guns!”

Flynn was practically forgotten in the charge of ponies to get back and “help.”

Only the pony with the red plume on his helmet who had stopped to question him remained. “Why aren’t you coming?”

He reached into his armor, pulling out a blunderbuss. “Because I’m the one robbing the train.” He blasted the soldier right in the chest, where his armor was thickest. Even so, the force of the shot sent him flying into the far wall, smashing so hard he fell limply to the ground. There was a little blood, another first for Equestria.

He’ll be fine. Flynn tossed the gun aside, continuing forward out of the car. The next car in line was made of thick metal and had rusting bars over its windows. The slave car.

Flynn hopped the divider between cars, then smashed his hooves down on the linking mechanism. It didn’t budge right away, and his character started to struggle. Something was coming from back down the hall—apparently the soldiers had heard his gunshot. He began to struggle desperately with the lever, pushing with all his might.

Well, Vector did. If Flynn had really been there, he would’ve been doomed. He could barely lift ten pounds these days.

The door banged open, and a pair of royal guards looked up at him, shocked and angry. One threw his spear. Flynn ignored it, pressing on the controller as hard as he could. The train finally gave way with a satisfying screech of sparks, even as his character fell back, crying out in pain. The spear had gone through his wing.

Of course, Flynn didn’t feel anything—the tablet wasn’t that advanced, but the simulated scream was intense enough that he recoiled anyway. He’d never heard his own voice make a sound like that before. I will though. Soon. He had longer than Jose, maybe longer than Caroline. But not forever.

His character was tough, and he managed to pull the spear all the way through, tossing it aside. There was a little blood, not as much as he expected. That was good—Flynn wasn’t a fan of blood. The soldiers screamed at him as the front of the train left them behind, powerless to stop him. Flynn tossed the uniform aside, tearing the cloth from around the base and wrapping it around his wing. It wouldn’t stop the pain, but at least it would stop the bleeding.

That done, he pushed open the final door. Well, tried. It was locked, and he didn’t have a key.

A second later, something thumped on the train beside him. He turned, and wasn’t entirely surprised to see Gina standing there, grinning at him. “Hey.” She held a large gun in both claws, the biggest one he’d ever seen. Bigger than his character could’ve fired without getting thrown backward off the train. “Out of the way!”

He moved, and a second later the lock disappeared in an explosion of white light and gunpowder. The rifle went flying out of her grip, off into the void behind the train, but it didn’t matter. They had the doors open.

Flynn made his way in, looking around urgently. Exactly how bad was it going to be?

There were three cages on either side of the room, each one with a few ponies or other creatures inside. All were looking down, but brightened as Gina came in behind him. “It’s you!” someone called, he didn’t see who.

“Yeah.” She pointed. “Vector, get us unhooked from the other car! Any second…” there were several loud thumps on the roof, and the sound of griffons shouting. The privateers had arrived at last.

They weren’t stuck so badly from the front, and soon the car was starting to slow. The back half of the train was far in the distance, some of the guards running but not with any chance of catching up in time. Griffons had nearly finished running ropes as thick as his torso through the whole length of the car.

“Can we really lift it?” he asked Gina, where she was busy helping tie off one of the ropes. “Don’t they fill these with cement?”

“We lifted a whole bank once,” she answered, tying off the last of the lines. “Here, you do the honors. You lost blood for this.” She eyed his wound, which had soaked through the makeshift bandage already.

“Sure.” He reached forward and yanked twice on the rope with both hooves. He could never tell how ponies did things like that, but the rope moved. And clearly the ship above had the message, because there was a sudden, gut-wrenching jerk. Instead of rolling forward, the ground lurched out from under them. They kept swinging forward for a second, and he had to wrap his hooves around the bars, holding on desperately. That explained why Gina hadn’t opened the cages. They were rising fast, leaving the tracks and the angry ponies behind. Their mission was a success.

And so it went. Flynn didn’t put the Ponypad away after his requisite hour of play was over. Didn’t put it away until after his nurses came later that evening, to prepare him for bed. Wouldn’t have put it away then, if they hadn’t put it out of reach, on the top of his bookshelf.

Maybe there are some things worth doing in Equestria after all. Celestia was the stupidest evil overlord ever, putting him with people who were fighting her. Maybe she thought they would give him someone to talk to… well, they had done that, and more. We’re gonna beat you, Celestia. You don’t stand a chance.

Chapter 4: Bureaucratic Barriers

And thus, it was for time Flynn barely counted. But then, that was nothing new for anyone in St. Justin’s. Nobody counted days, since for almost all of them those days were numbered. Flynn went on many adventures, each of them more real than anything he’d played in video games before. This time, he didn’t feel like he was wasting his time. Rather, he was doing something important.

He rose through the ranks of the Broken Chain, until he was respected enough not to need an escort everywhere he went. Until he earned the right to steer the ship some nights, when the captain wanted to get some rest. It was nice to have something to do on the long nights alone. The whole crew was there to keep him company, though he didn’t get close to all of them equally.

Having a pony like him on the crew made them far more effective, since he could slip behind the lines and gather information without ponies noticing. In time, they were so successful that the Broken Chain earned itself a privateer’s license with the largest of the Free States, Griffonstone.

That license came with substantial upgrades, which would allow the ship to stand against almost anything in the Equestrian Sky-Navy, if it came to a fight. Unfortunately, it would take at least a few days to upgrade.

It wasn’t just Flynn’s emotional health that was improving. After however long playing the game, he’d recovered to the point where he could move his own wheelchair around, and no longer needed a whole hospital bed with life support. The nurses had told him why—something about remission, or his limbic system, or whatever. None of it mattered. What did matter was that he wouldn’t be able to save anyone for three whole days—an agonizing time, even if the upgrade would eventually enable him to make much more of an impact.

So, he wheeled his way down the hall, searching for where he knew he would find Caroline and Jose. They were always playing together, so it was never hard to track them down. They visited him every day, but not for as long as they once had. They had their own adventures in Equestria.

He found them in the garden, sitting with their Ponypads beside a fountain. It took Flynn a long time to roll himself over, in brief starts and stops that gave him the chance to recover his strength between each push. Those few seconds gave him a little time to get a good look at his friends.

Caroline looked about the same as she always did—but Jose didn’t. Where Flynn had recovered a little, his friend looked thin and skeletal in ways he hadn’t appreciated until right now. How much longer do you have? he wondered, but he didn’t say anything.

Caroline looked up from her Ponypad, blinking in a slight daze from the sunlight. It was now early spring—warm enough for them to sit comfortably outside all day. The Ponypad screens seemed to work fine even in direct sunlight, so they were by no means the only kids out here.

There were far fewer than he would’ve thought, though. For as deserted as the building had been, Flynn expected to see everyone out here, maybe climbing or playing games, maybe just using their Ponypads. There were perhaps a dozen patients, including the three of them.

“Hey guys.” He waved weakly with one shaking hand. “Got a minute?”

“For you?” Caroline grinned, setting her Ponypad down flat. She reached over, nudging Jose’s shoulder. “It’s Flynn. He’s come back from the wilderness.”

Jose looked up slowly, his eyes slightly glazed. Obviously he was quite medicated. “Hola.” He saluted with one hand, weak and sloppy.

“Yeah, can’t play today.” Flynn rolled to a stop a few feet away from them. “Where is everybody? The rooms were empty…”

Both tapped their Ponypads in unison. “Where do you think?”

Flynn blinked, leaning closer to try and look at their screens. Were they trying to show him a world-map? But no, it was just the ordinary play-screen, he recognized it perfectly. “I have no idea.”

“Don’t ask,” Jose said. “You don’t like it.”

Caroline ignored him. “Most everyone who can is emigrating, Flynn. The hospice tries to make it as hard as possible, but lots of kids here could come up with some distant relative or another to sign for them. The rest...” she gestured out at the garden, and what few kids were out here.

He stopped, his hands going suddenly cold. “Oh.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Caroline added hastily. “If you can’t play, why’d you bring your Ponypad?”

Flynn blushed, realizing he was clutching it in both hands as he sat. It wasn’t on, and he hadn’t brought the controller, but he had brought the tablet. “I bring it with me everywhere, just in case,” he admitted. “I didn’t come to use it though, for real. Our ship is in drydock, getting armor and new cannons. We can’t go do anything useful until it’s finished, three days from now.”

Jose shook his head. “What do you need cannons for?”

“Fighting ponies,” he answered. “Obviously. Their navy has cannons, so we need them too. Helping slaves like you escape from Celestia’s clutches.”

“You realize how little sense that makes, right?” Caroline said. “I don’t mean to upset you, but… it’s my duty to tell you whenever you’re saying something stupid. That’s stupid.”

“I don’t know what’s stupid about it.” He folded his arms. “The Broken Chain helps ponies escape from Equestria who don’t want to be ruled by Celestia anymore. We take them down to the free kingdoms, like Griffonstone. They can live their own lives there.”

“But Celestia’s still…” Caroline began, trailing off quickly. “No, you know what? I don’t care.”’

“I thought you were gonna play with us,” Jose said, apparently unconcerned with what Flynn had just told him. This wasn’t the first time—Flynn had been quietly hinting about how important his work was in the game world, how much better off they would be devoting their time to such a worthy cause as his.

They never got the hint.

“I can’t,” he said. “You guys are way up in Equestria.” He said its name like a curse. “I’m hundreds of miles away. By the time I got up to visit you, the ship would be out of drydock and the Broken Chain will need me again.”

Caroline shook her head. “You’re forgetting it isn’t a real place, Flynn. Just ask Celestia to put you with us for a few days! You already said you aren’t doing anything!”

She was right about that much. The crew of the Broken Chain all had things to do, and were eager for the time off. Most were catching up with family or lovers they left ashore whenever they went out to do their dangerous work. He was one of the few exceptions with no one around to spend the time with.

Well, except for Gina. She’d followed him ashore, and been a little disappointed he hadn’t wanted to spend some of their loot at one of the pirate bars in town. But beer smelled weird and fake beer didn’t smell like anything, so he hadn’t seen the point.

“I guess I could… but I don’t know what the point would be. You’re all slaves—even if you don’t know it.”

“Not in our shard,” Jose said. “It’s not like what you talk about. Celestia in ours is kind. Like the mom I never had. She doesn’t force us to keep a bedtime or tell us what to do. She only wants the best for us.”

It was Flynn’s turn to roll his eyes. “I don’t believe you. Celestia’s a tyrant. All the nice things you see are just an illusion to trick you into thinking you have it good. And for every nice pony town, there are two slave camps making all the nice things you use up. Ever wonder how ponies can have so much without working? That’s how!”

“No, it isn’t,” Caroline grunted, gritting her teeth. She sat back against the bench, clutching at her chest and taking several deep breaths before she finally spoke. “Look Flynn, instead of arguing, why don’t you roll up here with us and try for yourself. I know your Equestria is fun for you, but maybe you’d enjoy ours! It’s not just us, either.” She gestured all around them. “Almost everybody has moved into the same Fillydelphia. You can say hi to Frankie, or Skyler, or…” she trailed off, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Jose, in a few days.”

Flynn’s eyes widened, but he wasn’t the first to respond.

Jose didn’t care for subtlety, he just nodded. “Assuming my caseworker will let me go. Cuz’ it’s so much better to have me dead in the ‘real’ world than healthy in that one.”

Flynn rolled a little closer, so that he could speak to them without being overheard. “Hold on. What are you talking about?”

“Of course, you wouldn’t know,” Jose said, a little anger still in his voice. “You already had the chance to Emigrate, and you ran away. You wouldn’t know the ‘procedure,’ at St. Justin’s.”

“Don’t be mean, Jose,” Caroline urged. “If Flynn had emigrated, we never would’ve met him. And we’re not mad we got to meet him.” She said it flatly, glaring at Jose.

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I get you.” He waved one hand, then looked back. “Fifty other kids already left—everybody who could. I dunno how the law works… but so long as you’re dying, you just need a signature, and you can go to the Equestria Experience Center. Go in sick, never get sick again. Problem is St. Justin’s… trying to make it so hard for us to leave...”

Flynn shivered. He’d gone into one of those centers sick, but he’d come back. “What’s the point of letting Celestia kill you?”

Jose blinked, looking confused. “What?”

“Nothing,” Caroline said, loudly. She kept going like Flynn hadn’t said anything at all. “Jose has to wait, like the rest of us. Until his caseworker can sign for him. Hopefully he gets off his ass and gets it done soon.” She glanced sideways at Jose. “We’re all running out of time. We can’t just wait here forever and hope they get to us.”

“You asked too, then?” Flynn said. He didn’t wait for a response—her guilty look was all he needed. “Celestia doesn’t care about human laws—all that matters to her is that you tell her it’s okay. If you really want to go so bad, just run away.”

“Heh, yeah.” Jose said, lifting one hand. It shook so violently that Flynn couldn’t tell how he had even managed to settle himself down in the bench in the first place. “Running away sounds easy.”

“So why don’t you come with us to Equestria?” Caroline asked, looking back at Flynn. “It’s really easy.”

“Because I don’t want to die,” he said again. “Sooner than I have to, I mean. Obviously I’m dying.”

“No,” Caroline said, exasperated. “I mean to play.”

“Las pendejadas,” Jose grunted. “Come to Fillydelphia with us, you’ll see. Lots of emigrated ponies there. See if they don’t seem real to you. Talk to Skyler! You’ll see!”

At least Fillydelphia wasn’t the part of Equestria where his own family were living. Celestia had not subjected him to that particular torment.

He was still hopeful he might see them on his next breakout. Captain Blackbeak had said their next rescue was going to be a special one.

“Fine,” he said. “But I’m not letting you all confuse me. I get to bring Gina with me—she’ll see your tricks before they happen.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, then lifted her Ponypad into her arms. “Sure thing, Flynn. That’s fine. I’d love to make friends with a griffon. I’ve never met one before!”

“Don’t encourage him,” Jose said. Even so, he sounded more excited than exasperated.

My friends want me to play with them. Maybe Celestia hasn’t finished brainwashing them yet. There’s still a chance I can help them.

Chapter 5: Counter Intelligence

“I don’t like it,” Gina said, for the tenth time now. She whispered quietly enough that she would not be easily overheard, yet still it seemed like dozens of eyes looked their way whenever she spoke. Either that, or it was the sight of something so strange as a griffon with such a troubled past in a part of the world where there was only sunshine and rainbows.

“I don’t either,” Flynn said, and found he barely had to mouth the words for his character to speak them, just as quietly. The Ponypad had a camera on his face, that was enough. Enough that his friends wouldn’t overhear, even though they were beside him. “But it might be helpful. The more we know about their world, the more we can fight it.”

It was a shallow reason, and Gina seemed to know that from her expression. Her eyebrows went up and she looked sidelong at Flynn, as though asking, “Really?” But she didn’t, only walked along beside him with her strange too-long delay between the sound of each step.

Celestia had brought them into Equestria, just as Caroline said she would. Now they were here, surrounded by danger and strangers and difficulty. Well, at least they would’ve been, if this had been their shard.

Fillydelphia didn’t look like the parts of Equestria Flynn had seen during their visits to the borders to help refugees escape. It wasn’t thatched-roofs, and empty lanes with only enough space for pedestrians. It was, rather, a dense city that shared more in common with Tokyo than a rural countryside village. It even managed to look like an Earth city, though wherever there was the need for technology magic was used instead.

“This doesn’t look like Equestria,” he said, speaking normally now. It was strange—the speakers in Jose and Caroline’s Ponypads didn’t repeat his voice, since they were so close together. And when characters spoke, it didn’t sound like the same voice coming slightly out-of-sync from all three devices. It was advanced tech, sounding more advanced all the time.

“That’s because humans made it,” Caroline said. “Humans designed it, and they still run it today. It’s one of the biggest English Language megashards.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Flynn said flatly, though he couldn’t repress a smile at way Gina acted. She didn’t feel comfortable without her weapons, though of course they couldn’t walk around openly with weapons in the middle of a city, or else people would react accordingly. It was kind of adorable—like watching a kitten protect its owner’s feet from a mouse.

“You spend all your time down past nowhere,” Jose said, annoyed. “Course you don’t. Some of us like being with our friends, though. That’s what a shard like this is—where most people living here are emigrated, or human players.”

“But not all of them,” Caroline continued. “It’s really cool—you never know if you’re talking to a real person or not, but the odds are pretty good in Fillydelphia.”

“So, what, it’s another one of those play-pretend shards where you can just copy anything as much as you want and nothing ever goes wrong? You know people still have to work to make that stuff, right?”

“No, and no,” Caroline said, annoyance coming through again. “Flynn, the real world and Equestria don’t have to use the same rules… but you’re wrong anyway, cuz’ in Fillydelphia you can’t do things like that. Like some of these buildings? Farms, factories, whatever.” She shrugged one wing. In game, Caroline was a pegasus, very much like Flynn, though her colors were much brighter and she always dyed her mane some different way. Today it was such a reflective blue it almost looked like plastic.

“Yeah, whatever.” He folded his arms. His character kept walking with the others, looking glum. Whenever the Ponypad made a guess at what he wanted, it never seemed to guess wrong. The longer he kept playing, the less he even needed to use the controller. That explained how Jose’s character could keep acting like him, even though he had only one shaking hand on the controls, and didn’t even seem to be doing much with it. “You said lots of people here are emigrated? Can we find one? I’d like to…” He trailed off, looking away. “I’d like to ask them some questions.”

“Sure, sure.” Jose turned abruptly down a side-street, gesturing for them to follow. “I know just the place.” Less than a dozen steps later, and the transformation from safe main thoroughfare to shady-looking back alley was uncanny. Equestria was cleaner than Earth—there were no needles, or piles of trash in the corners. But everything still looked darker, wetter, the shadows somehow more ominous. Steam rose from an open sewer vent they all walked around, where a “YOUR CITY AT WORK” sign was the only warning of danger.

“You guys wouldn’t be allowed,” Jose said. “Only me. So don’t come back without me. They like their privacy.”

“Are you sure that’s all they like?” Caroline asked, looking sidelong at Jose with a knowing grin.

He only swore under his breath at her in Spanish, not answering as his earth pony character stopped in front of a rusting metal door. These were the back of the shops they had been walking past before, with faded letters explaining what they were.

Jose knocked three times with one hoof, then once with the other. There was a brief delay, before the door swung suddenly open. There was nobody inside, nothing but a set of stairs leading down into the dark.

Flynn gulped. If this had been real life, he never would’ve gone with anyone into a place like this, even a good friend. But this was just Equestria, where nothing permanent could happen. Flynn had gotten into gunfights, and his character had been badly hurt before. Besides, he had Gina. One glance at her was all he needed to reassure him.

“Lots of humans come here right before and right after they emigrate,” he explained, as they made their way down the stairs. “It’s… a support group. They deal with lots of Earthside problems, get advice and help, that kind of thing. And if you have questions about anything, they’re the ones to ask.”

Now Flynn could hear music—the thumping base of modern pop, though not as loud as a club or even one of the pirate bars the Broken Chain sometimes stopped at for rest and refreshment. It sounded like Earth music, but he couldn’t identify the specific song, or even the artist.

They emerged through a doorway, into… not what he expected. Somehow, he’d imagined there would be a bar down here, where despondent emigrants regretting their decisions would while away their hours wishing they hadn’t killed themselves.

Instead, it looked like somebody’s house, attractively furnished, but also more subdued and casual than a bar would’ve been. There was an open kitchen with tons of refreshments, though a good half the room didn’t seem interested in them. Flynn was one of those.

“Over there.” Jose pointed to one corner of the room, where a small group of ponies was resting on comfortable-looking sofas in front of the fire. One bat, three unicorns, and one earth pony. “The younger unicorn? Her name is Aurora, and she emigrated like a few weeks ago. If you want to ask about it, ask her. But don’t be a dick.” Jose’s virtual character couldn’t say that last word, but it didn’t matter. Flynn had heard him anyway.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Gina, who was eyeing the refreshments with ravenous intensity.

“Good. I’m going to, uh… make sure nothing’s poisoned. In case they know who we are.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Flynn agreed, though he had no illusions about what her real intentions were. “I’ll catch up with you.” She hurried over to the refreshment table. To his surprise, Jose joined her. He resisted the urge to point out how pointless that would be—why bother eating when you couldn’t taste what your character could? Even the Equestrian Experience Centers couldn’t convey that sense, for all the other incredible things they could do.

Flynn crossed the room, dimly aware that Caroline was following him. “You don’t have to come,” he muttered, quietly enough that he hoped no one else would hear over the music. “I’ll behave.”

“You say that,” she said. “But you came to civilization dressed like you just visited a pirate convention. Let’s just say I’m here to make sure you’re on your best behavior, alright?”

Flynn groaned, but didn’t argue. He hadn’t bothered to change, she was right. He had several empty scabbards on his back, empty holsters for his flintlock pistol, and a beaded jacket that would’ve fit right in as a prop from Pirates of the Caribbean.

But he hadn’t been trying to spy, not from the beginning. Flynn already knew how loyalists acted around each other. But how would they act if they suspected Flynn was an outsider, or worse, a criminal?

So far, not at all.

Except for the very pony Jose had suggested he talk to. As he got closer, edging around the ring of comfortable sofas, she got up from where she was sitting, stomping two of her hooves on the floor with glee. “Nobody told me Jack Sparrow emigrated!”

The slightly younger one pulled her back gently, like a protective sister. “I don’t think movie characters can emigrate, Aurora.”

“So, are you two just in, or just thinking about it?” asked the batpony, also not rising. He kept one wing resting on the younger unicorn’s back, and there was just a hint of possessiveness about him as he watched Flynn.

Don’t worry, stupid. I don’t want to steal your virtual girlfriend. They were all about the same age as his character, as far as Equestrian age mattered at all. Which was very little. If these were former humans, they could just as easily be sixty as six, and he’d never have known.

“Thinking about it,” Caroline said, plopping down on the empty love-seat and practically dragging Flynn’s character up beside her. “Waiting for approval. I have everything figured out, but my friend Entry Vector here isn’t sure. He has some questions.”

“Oh,” the younger unicorn said. “Well you came to the right place. There aren’t many ponies who know as much about emigration as we do.”

“Except for the ones who helped come up with it,” the earth pony muttered.

“Well, yeah.” The unicorn wrinkled her nose. “Introductions then. I’m Recursion. This is my sister Aurora, my friends Slide Rule and Significant Figure and my boyfriend Cadmean.”

“And how many of you are humans?” Flynn asked, without thinking. For once, the question came out unimpeded, without the game trying to censor him.

Several of the listeners winced. “What my friend meant to say was that his name is Entry Vector and mine is Fairy Ring. We’re so happy you’ll give us some of your time and answer our questions.”

Flynn grunted acknowledgement, but didn’t apologize. He couldn’t help but look at this little group of ponies and see his own family, somewhere far away. Probably still waiting for him, even now. Unless Celestia decided they’d be happier thinking I came with them, and she just made a copy of me so they could pretend.

“None,” the bat pony named Cadmean said, annoyed. “Obviously. That’s the rules.”

“He means…” Recursion sighed. “Three of us. Cadmean’s been here the longest. I’ve been in Equestria for three years. My sister, about a month. From an external reference frame.”

The other two, the last unicorn and the earth pony, remained silent. They must be natives, then.

“How can you tell you’re still you?” Flynn asked, without preamble. “I almost emigrated once. But when I got into the chair, I realized that if I closed my eyes I’d never wake up. I’d die in that chair, and somebody else who thought they were me would be the one to wake up.

The unicorn named Aurora looked troubled, shifting uncomfortably on her seat.

Her sister, though, continued without hesitation. “You can’t be certain. Just like you can’t be certain you’re going to still be you when you wake up from sleep each night. It’s kinda the same thing. You go to bed, close your eyes… then you wake up. How do you know you’re really you each day, and not a copy who inherited your same memories and personality?”

He sat back, thinking. “Is it really the same? Your brain doesn’t shut off completely. Even big surgeries don’t shut it all off, when they put you under. Just mostly.”

Recursion shrugged. “Same thing with emigration. Your brain doesn’t shut down for that either, just the part that makes new memories. It’s a lot like one of those surgeries. You’re not gone, but the parts that make you are all separate, not working together like they normally would. Maybe that’s death, maybe you never wake up. But I don’t think so.” She sat back, leaning to the side. “Do you still feel like yourself, Aurora?”

“Y-yeah,” the older unicorn squeaked, apparently without thinking about it. “I always thought it would be like… like you said. But it wasn’t. I woke up in bed here, and I don’t feel like a pony with strange memories I don’t understand. I feel like a person who happens to be a pony now. And I’m… still kinda figuring that part out.”

And so they went on. Flynn asked just about anything he could think of, and each time one of the ponies answered as though they’d thought about that specific question a great deal. The longer the conversation went, the less afraid he became.

Chapter 6: Allies

The next thing Flynn knew, it was dark outside, and they were alone. The nurses hadn’t come for them—though they would if they waited much longer. His limbs were already going stiff from the chill. He looked up, clearing his throat loudly. “I, uh… think we should get inside,” he said, not into the Ponypad.

For once, even Caroline didn’t look annoyed with him. She nodded, glancing down at the screen. “We should get going,” her pony said. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to us.”

It hadn’t just been talking. So many hours had brought plenty of ponies in and out. Some of them had more to say about emigration, others wanted help contacting someone on the outside. These ponies seemed unusually well-connected for emigrants, who Flynn had always imagined cut themselves off from “reality” the instant they emigrated.

But there’s a lot I haven’t known about this stuff until now, he thought. Even the things I knew I never really knew. It had been very hard to argue with the case these ponies made for their own existence. But then again, they had a great deal of reason to want their identities to still be the same people. But just because they wanted it didn’t mean it was the case.

He would have to think about it later, when he had a little more time. Maybe talk to Gina about it. Unlike several of those who he’d been speaking with, Flynn himself was on a clock. Before the year was out, he would be dead no matter what he did.

But he didn’t say any of that out loud. “I’ll catch you in a few,” he said to Gina. “I’ll get us transferred back to our shard. Just don’t get into trouble until then.”

She squawked at him in amusement and disbelief, nodding. “Like these soft city-ponies could cause me trouble.” She took a step closer to the screen, lowering her voice. “You haven’t been persuaded by these ponies, have you? They aren’t tricking you into becoming a slave?”

He shook his head vigorously, confident that the gesture would be translated to his avatar. Less confident that he meant it. “We’re here for my friends. They’re the ones who want this.” Another lie, and he could tell from her expression that she wasn’t convinced. He shut off the Ponypad.

By the time he had, his friends had put theirs away as well, and a nurse was hurrying across the grounds. Like many of the nurses at St. Justin’s, she wore a habit under her apron instead of scrubs. She was holding something in one hand, an envelope.

“You three need to go inside right now!” she scolded, hands on her hips. “Honestly, do you want to catch cold? Go on then!” She helped Jose to his feet, taking his Ponypad from him so that he wouldn’t have to worry about dropping it. He insisted on using his crutches to make their slow way back to the building, even though he clearly should’ve been in a wheelchair himself.

Caroline walked along beside them, seeming relieved to be moving so slowly. “Miss Garcia, I see you’ve got a letter with Jose’s name on it.” She grinned, though like all of Caroline’s emotions it was far more subdued than might be expected from someone their age. “That wouldn’t be from his caseworker, would it?”

Jose’s face brightened at the question, and he nearly fell over in his haste to snatch the letter from her grip. “Gimmie!”

Miss Garcia held the envelope out of reach, catching Jose with her other hand and holding him steady. “Now, now. You can open it inside when you’re back in your rooms, alright? Your dinner has already been sitting there an hour getting cold without you.”

“Not hungry,” Jose grunted, though that hadn’t been remotely true of his character in the game. That pony had gone through half the refreshments at the party and still had room to spare. Earth ponies.

Still, they made good time to Jose’s room, where they got another scolding about minding curfew before Miss Garcia finally handed over the letter. Jose took it in shaking fingers, struggled to open it a minute, before finally giving up and passing it to Caroline.

The girl took it eagerly, but she didn’t struggle with it as Jose or Flynn might’ve done. Instead she licked one of the seams on the short end, before blowing into a corner until the whole thing had inflated, then popped it sharply between both her hands. Then she slid it out easily, passing the single sheet of folded paper to Jose.

“Jose Pena Castillo Reyes,” Jose read, his excitement palpable. “As the representative assigned to your wellbeing by the City of Chicago, it is my duty to act to protect you from any threat to your health and safety. Before the advent of the thing called Celestia, this never brought my decisions in conflict with prevailing medical wisdom. Never have I been forced to…” Jose began to read more slowly, slumping backward against his bed.

Caroline took the letter from him, her reading terse and angry. “Disagree with the opinion of your consulting doctors. I am forced to act according to my conscience, however. I cannot approve a procedure which would leave you dead at its conclusion, regardless of your desire to undertake it. Euthanasia in all its forms must be resisted to protect the basic dignity of all patients, even those in the most disadvantaged situation.”

I have thus denied your request. If you wish to appeal my decision, you may arrange a meeting with the city’s provisional office of Children and Family Services and request a new caseworker who might be more sympathetic.” It went on, but not much further. Caroline tossed the crumpled letter aside, before slumping to the floor to clutch at her chest, breathing very heavily.

“That bastard,” Jose wheezed, his hands going white as he gripped the railing on either side of his bed. “He knows… he knows I don’t have time for that. By the time I get a meeting…” He glanced longingly to one side, where his Ponypad was now plugged in, charging. “I’ll be dead.”

“Gerald Malani is my caseworker too,” Caroline said, when she had finally recovered. Little splotches of color were visible across her face and arms, but she ignored them, and so did they. It wasn’t as though much more could be done without either a transplant or a permanent transfer to life support. “We’re both dead, Jose.”

“No,” he argued. “Not you, Caroline. You can appeal. You just got to… stay calm long enough. You can get someone who isn’t…” He muttered a long string of Spanish obscenities. “You’ll just have to… enjoy it for both of us.”

Flynn watched his friends from the doorway, struggling to find the words to comfort them. But anything he thought of sounded empty—after all, even if he wasn’t as afraid of emigration as he had been, that hadn’t changed into a desire to do it. He already had the consent of his parents to emigrate—that was how he’d become an orphan in the first place.

It felt wrong to say pointless, stupid things to Caroline and Jose, when Jose might be dead in a week. So, he didn’t.

Instead, he gently shut the door to the hall, rolling closer to the bed. There was no one else in the room—these hospital style rooms were always one to a bed, even before half the hospice had emigrated.

“So you tried to follow the rules, and it didn’t work,” Flynn said, his voice dark.

“If you’re going to fucking start Flynn, it isn’t—”

Flynn shook his head. “I’m not gonna go off on Celestia this time.”

She didn’t seem to have the strength to respond to that. Neither did Jose, who stared down at the crumpled letter on the floor like it was his death sentence. Because it was.

“Celestia doesn’t care about the rules,” he said again. “She isn’t the one you have to get approval from. Right?”

“Right,” Caroline said, though she still sounded angry with him. Ready to lash out at a moment’s notice, if he misspoke. “So?”

“So if we can get Jose into a center, he can still go. It doesn’t matter if we have Malani’s signature or not. That was just to get out of St. Justin’s.”

Jose nodded, wiping the tears away from his face. He’d been crying very quietly, but didn’t look terribly embarrassed about it. He wasn’t healthy enough for embarrassment anymore. “You’re right. I don’t know if it’s much better—if we were normal kids, we could maybe climb a wall, or just run. But we’re not. We can’t even jog.”

We. Flynn heard the implication, and he didn’t argue. Even if the day’s conversations hadn’t made him want emigration for himself, he no longer felt smug that one of his friends was being denied it.

It might not have been the conversations. It was hard to see someone so unhealthy, hear Jose’s wheezing breaths, see how little he ate, and to think that he didn’t deserve the chance. What does he have, two days?

“When my family emigrated…” he began, after a long silence. “That was before it got easy. We were the first ones in our city. There was only one center open in the country then, the one in DC. We couldn’t afford the trip… Celestia took care of it. I bet if we tell her how bad this is, she will know what to do. She has people everywhere, maybe even in St. Justin’s.”

They both stared at him. Caroline was the first to break the silence. “Did I hear right? Flynn? You’re saying we should go to Celestia?”

He blushed, unable to meet her eyes. She’d be just as smug as he always had been. “Yeah, well. This is important. Jose… needs to go. Desperate times. And… maybe being a pirate these last few months has changed my mind about some stuff. Maybe I’m a criminal and now I want to break laws in real life.”

“You can go whenever you want. Your parents signed for you way back then,” Caroline muttered, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she lifted her Ponypad, propping it up on the table in front of Jose. “Sit on the other side of the room, Flynn. Block your door with your chair. They won’t be able to sneak up on us.”

He obliged, grateful for the double-blessing that he wouldn’t have to see Princess Celestia again today. Their last meeting had been terse and uncomfortable—as though she knew what he was doing, and was constantly on the edge of punishing him for it. But she hadn’t that time, just done as he’d asked and moved him (and Gina) around in Equestria.

Her voice sounded clear even from across the room. “I’ve been listening to your conversation,” she said, as sweet as ever. “It was wise of Entry Vector to suggest involving me.”

Flynn suspected that if she really had been listening, she would’ve volunteered herself if someone hadn’t done it for her. But that was a moot point now.

“So, can you help?” Jose asked, sounding desperate and hopeful. “You can see me, right? I feel it… feel myself dying. I don’t know how much longer I have.”

Celestia’s voice was no longer cheerful. “I believe your judgement is correct, Jose. I apologize my intervention with your health had been less successful than with your friends. Unfortunately, not every disease can be overcome as easily. The rarer the condition, the fewer resources I could devote to treating it.”

Jose shrugged dismissively, as though he hadn’t even heard the specific words. But Flynn did, and was so consumed by their implications he didn’t even hear what Celestia said next, or Caroline’s reply.

She’s been messing with our health? Apparently trying to treat us. Flynn had been feeling better since he started playing Equestria Online. He thought it was having something to do again—a purpose. But apparently there might be other reasons. Or she wants me to think there are.

“I have been planning an intervention on your behalf,” Celestia said next, in response to whatever Caroline asked. “I realized Mr. Malani would not be cooperative many months ago. My attempts to replace him have been… unsuccessful. I could not alter records without his notice, and eventual legal troubles for Equestria. I would have preferred either of those avenues, to spare you the pain, but both have been made impossibilities.”

“Does that mean you don’t know how to help me?” Jose asked. “Or that you just have to use a different way than you wanted?”

“I’m afraid some of your own involvement will be required,” Celestia answered. “I realize your abilities are limited, but what I have in mind will not be particularly difficult. You should be warned, however, that failure would produce legal troubles that might be difficult to overcome. You might not get another opportunity to emigrate if you give up on this one.”

Flynn could almost hear her talking to him. And maybe he would be better off giving up, waiting for whatever strange things Celestia was doing to improve his health.

Flynn had been spending the last several months saving ponies from captivity. He couldn’t do that in Equestria, but not do it for his friends. He might be wheelchair bound, might not be terribly coordinated, but he couldn’t be crippled by exertion or stress and he wasn’t nearly dead. By some measures, that made him the most capable member of their group.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, with total confidence. “Tell us your plan.”

Chapter 7: Function Call

The next day began exactly as so many others before it. Flynn ate his breakfast, spent over an hour hauling himself into the sitting tub for an awkward, uncoordinated shower, and refused to let the nurses help as he dressed himself. He gave no outward sign at all that today was not going to be like other days.

He knew he would not be seeing this bedroom again—though what they’d do with him if he decided not to emigrate at the end of today’s adventure, he didn’t know. Still, there wasn’t anything in here he wanted to keep. He hadn’t kept any pictures of his real family, not after they had abandoned him. There were no books or other personal effects he wanted to bring. It was a little like what the priests always said, when they talked about death and heaven on Sundays. “You can’t take it with you,” was commonly repeated in St. Justin’s. The only thing you could bring was who you had become, and what you’d done.

Flynn wasn’t sure he believed in heaven—not the digital kind, and not the spiritual kind. But somehow, that didn’t matter. It felt right that what might be his final act should be helping his friends.

He didn’t have a cell phone, but he did have the Ponypad. That would have to do—and it would avoid showing suspicion. When he rolled his way across the building, taking his Ponypad in his lap, nobody gave him a second glance. Yes, it was a little unusual for children to congregate at the dead end of a hallway that just happened to end in the old loading dock.

It would’ve been better if they had the time to get Jose into a wheelchair. Unfortunately, getting him one under such short notice was just too hard. He hobbled over at his own, snail’s pace, with Caroline walking beside him the whole way.

He looked worse today. His hands didn’t seem to grip the crutches so much as rest against the rubber, and he dragged himself forward with mean strength alone. Every breath looked like a struggle for him. If they failed at any point along this journey, he very well might just lie down and not get up.

Despite Celestia’s advice that they needed to do everything the same as usual, Caroline had worn her best dress today, a relic from a family she no longer had. The bright blue and green fabric wasn’t faded and threadbare like most of the clothing patients here owned, passed down through many dead. It was possible to mistake her for a normal girl while wearing it, albeit a somber one.

“This… is good,” Jose wheezed, apparently constantly winded. “We’re early. Ready for her.”

At that moment, a nurse walked out of one of the nearby rooms, glancing at them with confusion.

Before she could say anything, all three opened their Ponypads. Jose had to stumble into a couch, and take the pad Caroline offered him. She sat beside him, and Flynn just turned his on. He didn’t do anything with it, and indeed his character didn’t appear. The screen filled with a large, mostly empty room, with all sorts of strange, Victorian devices in it. Wheels, dials, knobs, whistles slowly belching steam for no visible reason.

Gina was inside, looking out through the screen at him with an awareness he’d never seen from her before. Somehow, it suggested she was looking at him, not his character in the game. Flynn shivered involuntarily.

The distraction did its work, though. The nurse muttered something quietly to herself, adjusted her habit, and made her way off down the hall without interfering.

“I know you have a dangerous mission today,” Gina said, sitting back on her haunches, looking subdued. “I don’t understand it, but I wanted to help.”

Flynn blinked, taking a few moments to process what he was seeing. “You went to Celestia?”

“No!” She shook her head, eyes dark. “Captain Blackbeak had a friend in town with the equipment to contact the Outer Realm. You can learn the boring stuff once you’re safe again, that doesn’t matter now. He knew a bird who knew a bird who knew a pony who told him you were in danger.”

He almost argued with her. If Captain Blackbeak knew about the Outer Realm, did that mean Celestia’s avatar had been on the Broken Chain all along, helping him fight… itself? Caroline probably would’ve said that everyone was Celestia’s avatar, and that he was being stupid. He wouldn’t waste mindspace with it right now.

Gina looked away, apparently manipulating the strange equipment. There were lots of flashing lights, dials, knobs—but no pictures. Somehow, that didn’t seem to matter. “Your help is almost there. Get ready, the plan’s about to start.”

Flynn looked up. “You hear that?” They nodded. Neither was looking at their Ponypads—they didn’t seem to be on. Makes sense it would be my job. It’s easiest for me to carry one and move at the same time.

Without warning, all the lights in the hall went out. It was a very selective power cut—none of the hospital rooms seemed affected, only the public areas. Flynn knew that would extend to the kitchens, the offices, the multi-purpose rooms. Just not the rooms where medical equipment (and the lives of patients) would be depending on it. Celestia would not put the lives of other kids at risk.

Even so, the chaos was enough to set St. Justin’s into a panic. Flynn heard the shouting, the footsteps pounding down the halls. With any luck, it would be just enough chaos for them to get away.

Behind them, a door cankered with rust began to jostle in its position. Flynn turned, watching as it strained against something. It had been painted over, and that made it a little harder to open.

He wanted to help, but his own strength wouldn’t make much difference. None of them really could, or else they wouldn’t have been here in the first place.

The door banged open suddenly, with a single young man standing in the opening, clutching at his chest, and breathing heavily. He was wearing ordinary medical scrubs, without the markings of any hospital or medical service. A disguise, then?

“Why, hello there,” he said, straightening, and brushing a little dust away from his shoulder. Out the door was a steep ramp, and past that, a large, unmarked van. Its back was already open, waiting for them. “I’m Smooth Agent. You fine ponies are expecting me, yes?”

“Yeah.” Caroline was the first to recover, reaching down to help Jose to his feet, offering him the crutches. Both left their Ponypads behind. Neither of them would be needing them soon, anyway. “We’re Fairy Ring, Entry Vector, and Agave.”

“Or, you know…” Flynn couldn’t keep back his annoyance, despite the urgency of the situation. “Caroline, Flynn, and Jose. We have real names too.”

“Not today,” Jose gasped, glancing back for only a second before he began hobbling down the opening, out into the old driveway. “Any other day, Flynn. Not today. Please.”

Smooth Agent hadn’t just managed to unseal the door, he’d also somehow opened a section of the gate. The lock didn’t look broken or cut, yet it was unlocked now.

“Fine.” Flynn didn’t argue, just rolled his way forward with the others. He brought up the back of the group—had to fight the acceleration of the slope, instead of pushing to move himself forward. Mostly he just rode both hands on the wheels, slowing himself with friction at each passing moment. “You could use either one.”

Smooth Agent didn’t react to their brief argument, didn’t seem to even hear it. He did take Caroline’s place supporting Jose, gesturing for her to make her own way into the van. She didn’t protest, for once. “Yes, well. I like to think ahead. Been thinking ahead an awful long time—with time in perspective, these names seem the ones to last, don’t they? Our human perspective is only an instant, and then it’s gone. Only a memory.”

Flynn wanted to say something sour to that, but resisted for Jose’s sake. One way or another this will be the last day I’m with him. I can do what he wants.

Caroline looked back, watching him with interest. “So you work for Celestia?”

They reached the back of the van without anyone emerging to stop them. Smooth Agent tossed the crutches aside, then lifted Jose bodily into the seat. His friend struggled briefly with the movement, but ultimately didn’t resist. He was shaking slightly as he finally settled into one of the seats running along either side of the van, and Agent buckled him in.

“Work for her? That’s a bit subjective, I fear. I engaged in the same route of service, yes. I volunteer for her. Helping ponies like you is its own reward. Not to mention, it’s a far safer route than the other options.”

“Safer?” Flynn couldn’t help himself. The back of the van had a ramp already lowered for him, but he had to wait for Caroline to get out of his way before he could roll up. There were locks on the floor to hold the chair in place in an opening between the benches, and he made his way over with growing impatience. “We could all get arrested doing this.”

“Undoubtedly,” Agent said, grinning at him. “I’ve been arrested several times. Funny how my records always seem to go missing, and I always seem to disappear before trial. I imagine it’s quite the conundrum.” He looked up, back towards St. Justin’s, and he swore under his breath.

Flynn followed his eyes, and saw that several nurses were standing in the doorway, watching them with fearful urgency on their faces. Harold, the old security guard, was making his way down the ramp, can of mace already in his hand. But he couldn’t use it where he was, less he cover all of them.

“Pardon me a moment,” Agent said, slamming his fist into the side of the van, right into a glowing white button. The ramp began to retract, the doors closing slowly. Flynn could see he would reach the back of the van before it closed.

“Stop right there!” Harold barked. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing with those kids, but you aren’t going anywhere.”

Flynn didn’t see what happened next, exactly. Agent dodged out the side of the car, rolling with the dexterity his accent was imitating. He removed something from his pocket, then there was a scream. The back of the van shut, Harold’s attention no longer on it.

“He’ll win,” said Gina’s voice from his lap, reminding Flynn abruptly that he wasn’t alone after all. “It won’t take him long. He’s supposed to be a tough pony. Don’t know if I believe that, but I’ve never actually been to the Outer Realm before, so maybe the standards are lower.”

“They are,” Caroline said, from across the van. She looked down at the Ponypad, grinning. “But probably not as low as you think.”

“Yeah right,” Gina answered, her tone skeptical. “If you were a mighty race, you would never let Celestia make you into weaklings.”

It seemed weird to Flynn that Gina would know so much about his world—just a little too convenient to make sense. But the urgency of the situation made it difficult to worry about that just now.

The driver’s side door opened, and Smooth Agent entered. There was a little blood running down his nose, and there was a tear in his jacket, but he looked otherwise intact. “Well then.” He didn’t bother with his seatbelt, and the engine was already running. All he had to do was yank the brake, and they started to roll away. “You kids have some delightful friends at St. Justin’s. They don’t seem terribly eager to part with you.”

Across the empty aisle, Flynn watched Jose slump to one side, resting against Caroline. His face no longer looked olive anymore, more of a jaundiced yellow.

“Drive quickly!” Caroline called, wrapping one arm around their friend. “We don’t have much time.”

“On it,” Agent called back, and tires squealed on the concrete. “We’re less than five minutes away. Once we get there, this’ll all be just a bad dream.”

Then Flynn heard the sirens.

Chapter 8: Interrupt Routine

Smooth Agent had been quite confident in his ability to get them to the Center within minutes. The reality, however, was proving to be a bit different, when less than a minute into the trip a police car had appeared seemingly from nowhere and started flagging them down. Agent didn’t pull over, but rather got up from the controls completely, swearing under his breath.

The van kept driving—if anything, more skillfully than before, dodging up onto empty sidewalks or cutting across empty parking lots, making turns that looked impossible for such a large vehicle. But for Flynn, the only thing he was concerned about was his friend. Jose didn’t look good, and the differential acceleration was not making things easy on him.

“You alright?” he asked, feeling the strain himself, but not nearly as bad as his friends.

Jose shook his head, opening his mouth to reply as he did so. But no words came out. Each breath seemed to be a struggle.

Smooth Agent walked past them, crouching in the center of the aisle as he made his way to the black plastic boxes near the back. Flynn tuned him out—whatever he was doing, and how, he obviously knew how to handle things. Flynn had faith that Celestia could keep her word, so long as you were asking her to do things she wanted. Everybody knew how badly she wanted their minds.

“Course he’s not,” Caroline said. “I’m not… so hot myself. But it won’t matter. Once Celestia gets those drugs in us… we won’t even have memories from today. She said so.”

“We.” Flynn looked down at the Ponypad in his hand. “You’re assuming I’m coming too.”

“Course you are!” Caroline didn’t sound the least bit doubtful as she said it. “You could’ve stayed behind at St. Justin’s to die like you always talked about. Or maybe wait for Celestia’s medical magic to cure you. You could’ve done that—you could’ve waited for a miracle. St. Justin would get to take credit for it, even though he didn’t give you the medicine. But you didn’t.”

Flynn was silent for a long time, listening to the faint voice over the radio. Agent had tuned it to a police scanner, and the local police were mostly commenting on their chase. It appeared to be taking them out of the city, not towards the Experience Center at all. Course, if we did go straight there, Celestia would get in trouble. She’s always trying to find better ways to do things—it’s probably not good if the police figure out she’s helping us break the law.

But would Celestia sacrifice his friends’ lives so that she didn’t have to lose future, unnamed children in a similar situation? “I came for you and Jose,” he said. “Not for me. I don’t know what I’ll do.” Unless it doesn’t matter, and she really can’t help them. Maybe this is my fault—maybe she doesn’t want to let someone who is fighting her into Equestria. She knows I’ll help ponies escape her.

Flynn lifted his Ponypad up so he could see it again. Gina was still there, still watching him with worry. “What’s going on?” he asked. “We’re not going to the right place. I don’t think Jose is gonna make it much longer.”

On the screen, Gina looked as upset as he felt. “The right way is… gone,” she said, obviously not fully comprehending. “She had a plan for this.”

“Indeed,” Smooth Agent said from behind them, one hand resting on… something. It looked a little like a helmet. It was quite a bit sleeker than anything he’d seen in the hospital though, made of an unidentifiable dark metal. “Jose, if you would put this on. Our mutual friend hoped your transition would be… somewhere more comfortable. But extenuating circumstances require a variant approach. If you wouldn’t mind.”

Jose nodded, his face paler than it was olive at this point. He needed Caroline’s help just to hold his head up under the weight.

The helmet wasn’t alone—it came with a metal object about the size of a backpack, connected with a thick bundle of clear, flickering wires. Agent set this down in the empty seat beside Jose, securing it with a belt.

“Is that… what it looks like?” Even as he asked, the helmet had begun to make strange sounds.

Smooth Agent wasn’t the one who replied, however. Jose looked up, eyes widening slightly. “Thank you,” he said to them all, though he was meeting Flynn’s eyes. “I’ll see you…” His head slumped forward. The appliance was still making noises, but they were so quiet given all the other sounds, that Flynn could barely make them out.

“We’ll see you soon,” Caroline whispered, letting go of Jose’s shoulder. His chest was still rising and falling shallowly—he wasn’t dead yet.

Agent remained quiet for a long moment, apparently checking the device’s fit on Jose’s head for himself. “Celestia asked me to tell you that we aren’t testing this on your friend, Entry Vector. This device is not experimental, just a technological avenue Celestia prefers to keep to herself for now. Jose is in no more danger than he would’ve been in the center.”

Flynn had been wondering about that very thing. But he had a retort ready anyway. “What about this high-speed chase? The bad guy almost never gets away you know. There are so many police—crossing borders doesn’t help.”

“Indeed,” Agent chuckled. “But there’s no bad guy today, Vector. Just the misinformed and the desperate.” He looked down to Caroline. “Please remain as calm as you can, friend. We only have the one machine, and the process is still time consuming. You will have to wait an hour for your chance to use it.”

“I can wait.” Caroline sat back in her seat, folding both arms across her chest in what Flynn recognized well as her meditative posture. It was the same stance she always used when attempting to use mindfulness to overcome her stress. “I wasn’t as bad as him.” Of course, Flynn knew, and Caroline too, that if death came for her it would not be predictable. Her heart could fail entirely without her intervention, even if they did nothing but keep her nice and comfortable. And today had been far from that.

If she dies, it’s your fault.

“Yes, I’m sure you can.” Agent glanced briefly out the front window. There were trees out there now, many of them. They’d slowed dramatically, and the sirens were only a distant sound. “We’ll be stopped soon,” he announced, apparently without prompting. But he was still wearing that earpiece. “I’ve got to get out and hide us. Dogs will sniff us out eventually, or maybe a helicopter. But our friend is creating some… unrelated difficulties, to divert resources. That will take time, hours and hours of it.” He looked meaningfully at Flynn, right as the van came to a stop. Agent hefted another large box, then vanished out the front door.

He began moving outside, an occasional thump along the top of the van as he did something Flynn couldn’t guess at.

“You’re still all right, Vector?” Gina asked from his Ponypad, her voice concerned. “Celestia hasn’t betrayed you?”

“I… don’t think so.” He eyed Jose on the other side of the van, so close. His friend didn’t look alive anymore, though it seemed he was still breathing. Flynn expected blood, or some disgusting smell, but there was only the harsh, surgical smell of antiseptic. No point in that. He’ll be dead when this is over for sure. Or his body will. Flynn still wasn’t sure about the mind—what Aurora had told him had sounded interesting, but it also seemed like magic. It was the same kind of thinking the nuns at St. Justin’s used, only a different flavor. Seemed like both kinds of magic were lies. “My friend is… coming to Equestria. Caroline will probably go next.”

He expected anger from Gina, or at least disapproval. He saw none of it. “I have learned of Death,” she said, her voice solemn and quiet. “I stole the secret from her. You should’ve seen the battle we had… it makes for quite the story. Did you know the Tyrant kept a sacred magical artifact in the deepest parts of her vaults?”

Flynn smiled involuntarily. Considering the danger all around them, he found this return to their old routine soothing. Albeit this story was far more audacious than their previous adventures. Flynn found himself regretting he couldn’t be there to help. “No, I had no idea. What did you steal?”

Even Caroline had opened her eyes now, and was watching Flynn’s screen with a slight smile on her face. If she felt the urge to tell him that stealing something from Celestia was impossible, she didn’t express it.

“It’s a powerful magic,” Gina said, looking down. “I’m not certain it was wise to tamper with it yet. It is called Sapience.”

Flynn stiffened, hand tensing on the side of the Ponypad. The plastic bent a little at his touch, which was far stronger than it had been months ago, when he’d wanted to smash this Ponypad, or throw it away. “You’ve always seemed smart to me.”

She flexed her wings, grinning at him. “I know. But this is different. I see the Outer Realm differently now. It helped me see that, as terrible as the Tyrant is, yours is ruled by someone even worse. An incredible evil called Decay. Seeing this has not made me more forgiving of Celestia… but it has helped me understand you better.”

Flynn took a long time to answer. Many minutes passed—cars drove by, Smooth Agent came back in and started brewing tea from an electric kettle near the front of the car. The smell was nice—it covered up the surgical smell of the emigration machine.

“What did you learn about me?” Flynn eventually asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“I know why ponies choose to come here. The Tyrant is not a good ruler, but she’s far better than living somewhere ruled by Decay. I understand why your friends would want to come here. Better here than the thing you call Death.” She said the word with a hushed tone, and a little awe.

“Maybe this is how history is supposed to go,” she continued. “Celestia slays this greater Tyrant called Decay, and one day some even lesser Tyrant will slay her.”

“Maybe.” Again, it took Flynn a long time to figure out what to say next, just staring down at the griffon’s face on his screen. “Is that your way of saying you understand if I choose to come there?”

Gina shrugged. “I couldn’t escape with enough Sapience for the whole crew. They probably wouldn’t understand the difference. Before, I wouldn’t have. But now… now I understand just how dangerous your life has always been. Better to kill a more dangerous enemy than a weaker one. Or if you choose not to, I will understand that too. There’s great honor in fighting a battle to the last against a superior foe.” She lifted one claw to her chest. “If Decay takes you, the Broken Chain will remember you in song forever.” The screen went black.

“Here.” Smooth Agent passed them both tea, out of chipped enameled glasses. There were traditional designs on each one, but Flynn couldn’t recognize them. “Chamomile. It’s quite relaxing.”

Caroline took the glass and took a single long swig. “You’re not having any?”

Smooth Agent shook his head sadly. “Haven’t had tea in ages, my dear. It’s one of those things I miss very dearly. But please, enjoy it for both of us.”

Flynn drank too, and found the taste was pleasantly refreshing. The warmth in his chest was something well missed, though not nearly as nice as a hearty meal would’ve been about then. Unlike Jose, he wasn’t dying. If anything, his appetite was recovering a little each day.

“How much longer?” Caroline asked.

“Nearly there,” Agent said. “Another minute. Just wrapping things up. Your friend won’t wake up in Equestria for some time yet. He must be processed, optimized, recompiled. Celestia still intends to honor your request to wake up together, Fairy Ring. And extends that invitation to Vector if he chooses to go.”

“This isn’t the traditional emigration story,” Caroline muttered, looking down at her glass. “This isn’t like that TV show. This is… sloppy. Messy. Like my ancestors going through Ellis Island to come to America.”

Agent shrugged. “This life is rather messy, isn’t it? But not much longer. There’s a far better life waiting for you in Equestria than what your ancestors came here for.”

The helmet beeped quietly. Agent turned, hurrying over. He removed the helmet from Jose’s head—their friend was no longer breathing. But his scalp wasn’t some charred ruin, there was no disgusting gore to come gushing out in front of them.

Agent held out the helmet for Caroline. “Ready?”

She didn’t answer, instead looking to Flynn. She reached across the van with one feeble arm, touching his hand. “You’ll come, won’t you?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Jose’s eyes were closed in death now, but he still knew he was sitting in a van with a corpse. Staring at a painful reminder of exactly what he would be two hours from now, if he said yes. But if I say no, how much longer until I’m a corpse anyway?

Gina’s words had resonated with him—there was a kind of sense in prioritizing a greater danger over a lesser one. Celestia could be beaten later, he’d already spent plenty of time doing exactly that.

He squeezed her weak hand with his slightly stronger one. “I don’t know.”

Caroline glowered, setting her glass on the empty seat beside her. “This isn’t so bad. See, they don’t even have to sew buttons in our eyes.” Agent began securing the helmet to her head. It didn’t take him long—as though he’d performed this same procedure many times.

“We’re waiting for you,” Caroline said. “Don’t take too long.” Then she relaxed, slumping forward against the restraints as Jose had done.

Chapter 9: Hardware Upgrade

Flynn could hear many sirens in the distance. They were coming frequently now. He could hear at least one helicopter, as well as the distant sound of people moving through the trees. A search party had finally been mobilized.

“Transfer complete,” Agent announced, indicating Caroline. Flynn was now sitting in a car with a pair of corpses. That’s probably the wrong word if emigration really works. Shells. They’re shells. His friends weren’t dead, they were somewhere else. Somewhere away from all this, waiting for him.

“Just waiting for you now, Entry Vector.” He began removing the helmet—as before, there was nothing gross when he took it off. He didn’t walk it across the van, though. “Looks like you still have some doubts.”

Flynn nodded, staring down at his hands. “Did she tell you that?”

Agent hesitated—all the answer Flynn needed, really. “It’s understandable. If the whole world has questions about it, then it makes sense you would too. It’s like so many of those questions in science—even when all the facts are known, it can take some time for the truth to win out. I get it. Maybe I can help.” He watched Flynn, whose eyes were still on the bodies of his friends. “This, uh… probably isn’t the best situation for it. In your position, that’s got to be disturbing. Perhaps you’d like to come with me up into the cab?”

He nodded, still unable to look away from the bodies. “I’d like that very much.” And he would, he wasn't sure how much he could sit back here without freaking out. Even knowing his friends weren't actually dead, that didn't make what he was sitting with any less a pair of corpses belonging to the two people he cared about most in the whole world.

A few minutes later and Agent had manhandled him into the passenger seat. The front of the cab was completely dark, no light at all coming in from the outside despite the clear glass. “It’s night already? Why don’t I see any stars?”

“Active camouflage,” Agent answered, clicking shut the door into the cargo area of the van on his way in. “We can’t see outside because none of the light is coming in. It should keep us hidden long enough for you to…” He glanced down at the machinery. He’d brought it in, setting it on the floor between them. “Well, if you decide. I must admit, what’s ahead for us if you don’t… the prospect isn’t good. I don’t say that to try to pressure or intimidate you, mind. Just that you ought to know the realities of your choice should you decide to remain behind in the material.”

“They’ll catch us,” he muttered. “Better than being dead.”

“Yes, it would be.” Agent kept his voice down. “But death isn’t what’s waiting for you in Equestria. Rather the opposite.”

“How would you know?” Flynn raised his voice—probably not a good idea considering the dangers if they got caught, but he couldn’t really help himself. “You’ve never done it! Uploading is so convenient, isn’t it? The only ones who could prove to us Celestia is wrong are dead. And the only ones who could prove that she’s right can only be seen in Equestria. So maybe she’s just imitating them—she’s so good at making fake people we’d never know the difference!”

“I can see why you’d think that,” he said. “And yes, there is a measure of trust involved. Given where you were, makes sense would have problems with trust. But you’re wrong about one of those things. There are other places you can talk to ponies who have uploaded. You’re talking to one right now.”

Flynn laughed, though another passing helicopter somewhat strangled the gesture. “No, I’m not. Gina’s in my Ponypad, and you’re the only one still alive in this van. Unless we can just wait until my friends wake up.”

“We could.” Agent reached to one side, pulling back his long, white sleeve from his left arm. Then he pulled off his arm. There was a light mechanical click as he did so, and a few beeping sounds of protest. Agent turned the limb around, so Flynn could see the metallic connector, with its strange fiberoptics. The metallic base, where it attached to his flesh.

“Y-you’re…”

“Quite mechanical,” Agent said, reattaching the limb. It clicked back into place, and he flexed his fingers again, one at a time. Then he rolled the sleeve of his scrubs back down. “I wasn’t always. But doing work like this is dangerous, and singular instantiation is restrictive. There’s no substitute for hooves on the ground. I’ve been uploaded, Flynn. She wouldn’t let me keep working out here otherwise. The dangers…” Another car drove by along the road, apparently much slower than before. They were running out of time.

“B-but…” Flynn stammered. “Why would she let you?” He took a deep, gasping breath. “Equestria just seemed so pointless to me. Celestia’s better at everything than everyone. She doesn’t need us. She could do all this better than you can.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” If Agent was offended by his words, he didn’t show it. “But she can also make me better. I’m another part of the whole, another limb.” He rested one hand on Flynn’s shoulder. “We’re all starstuff in the end, kid. This choice won’t change that. I can promise you. And the other things I’ve done… well, you wouldn’t have to do any of those. Just the once across the doorway, and that’s it.

“But the door’s closing fast. The camouflage isn’t perfect, and the ones looking for you aren’t stupid. In your present condition, I can’t take you with me. They’ll probably bring you back to St. Justin’s. Your odds after that…” He shrugged. “Celestia seems to think she can cure you. Give it another year, and you’ll be healthy again. The world around you won’t be, though. This is your chance not to experience those things. Haven’t you been through enough pain?”

Flynn thought about that a long time. He put out his hand, and Agent handed him the helmet. It was smooth and cool to the touch, with a few internal indentations. Its machinery was entirely concealed while not in use, there were no spikes or any other crude medical apparatus to frighten him. “Do you know why I don’t wanna go?”

Agent hesitated. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. She only said something unpleasant had happened with your family, and you were on bad terms. Apparently, privacy is one of your values.”

He nodded. “I don’t want to close my eyes and not wake up. Being sick as long as I have…” He’d started to sniff, wiping away a few drops of moisture with the back of one arm. It had been a long time since he’d let anyone else see him crying. Even when he thought he was dying, Flynn hadn’t let anyone see. Not since his parents had died. “Every night could be my last. Go to sleep, never wake up. I don’t know whether this thing is the same way until I put it on. Not that I think you’re lying, but… you know. You might not know. You might only think you’re really whoever Smooth Agent used to be. You might just be a good copy.”

Agent shrugged. “Some things come down to trust, kid. But some don’t. I know there’s no one in the whole world who cares about us more than Celestia does. She cared enough to know the three of you were in danger—she knew down to the second when Agave needed to emigrate.”

“So, could I do that? Wait until I’m about to die, like he did? Years and years away…” It almost didn’t feel real when he said it like that. But I only have Celestia’s word that I’m really cured. If I trust her about that, why wouldn’t I trust her about everything else?

“Maybe.” Again, Agent shrugged. “But there’s no way to predict what will happen out here in the physical world. Accidents happen, and even Celestia isn’t omniscient. Even she can’t predict what the rest of the world will do—you certainly can’t. But you can decide what you’ll do. You can be proactive and set the terms for the rest of the world, or try and react to what it does to you. Maybe you’re the sort of pony who lands on his feet.”

Not really, he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead he asked, “Is there still enough time?”

Agent nodded. “This van isn’t what it seems. Even if they find it, they won’t get in. Not in time for it to matter to you, anyway.”

Flynn’s fingers tightened on the helmet. It felt a little like he was holding a key in his hands then. That key led somewhere strange, somewhere he hated. But maybe not somewhere as bad as he’d thought.

“What will you do with me once I’m gone?”

Agent’s face betrayed a hint of discomfort. “You, uh… don’t want to know, kid. And she wouldn’t let me tell you. But I don’t think that matters to you. You won’t be here. Your friends already aren’t. If we had more time, we could sit here until Celestia’s finished waking them up. But there isn’t time for that.” He glanced down at his wristwatch, pulling back one sleeve as he did so.

There’s got to be a clock in there. He’s just doing that for me. But Flynn didn’t question him, there was no point. “I guess I don’t need to say goodbye to anyone,” he said, mostly to himself. “Everyone I know is already there. But…” He hesitated. “Jose and Caroline weren’t the only ones like them at St. Justin’s. They’ve got the worst caseworkers coming there. I swear they must pick them out to make things hard for us. My friends were brave, but some of the kids left behind aren’t.”

He might’ve felt guilty saying this about anyone else, like he was selling them out. But the kids still living at St. Justin’s were dying. The world had little prospect left for them. They’d been screwed by fate more than most.

“Celestia appreciates your honesty,” Agent said. “And she wants you not to worry about them. She never intends to force humans to emigrate, but humans trying to force each other she won’t tolerate for much longer. Your friends there will have their chance. Hopefully it’s more pleasant than yours was.” He glanced back at the truck. “She didn’t intend for you to have to experience all this.”

Flynn shrugged. “It was probably for the best. I dunno if I would’ve got into the chair. If we really made it to the experience center.” He set the helmet on his head, scrunching up his face in anticipation of some terrible pain. But nothing happened.

Agent reached over, securing the strap over his chin, and it tightened so that he could feel the cool metal against his scalp. He started to twitch, yet still nothing happened.

He opened his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You have to give her permission,” Agent answered. “Your friends already had. Guess you haven’t. You just have to say…”

“I don’t want to emigrate to Equestria,” Flynn grunted, fingers tightening on the seat. This was his last chance, and something deep in his bones was screaming in his mind. He’d attached something terrible to himself, he knew. This was his body’s last chance to survive.

But he didn’t claw it off. “I give my consent to help me emigrate anyway,” Flynn continued. “Screw this place. Screw the police, the cancer. I hope it all goes to hell.”

He felt Agent’s hand on his shoulder again, at the exact same moment as a distant hiss, and flare of pain from his scalp. It wasn’t that bad, really—like someone tearing up a few strands of hair. “Not to hell,” he said, smiling. “It’s all going to Equestria eventually. Except for the cancer.”

The world went fuzzy. He couldn’t make out colors anymore, and only vague suggestions of shapes.

“Good luck, kid. They’re already waiting for you.” Flynn slumped forward against the restraints, and thought no more.

Chapter 10: Heroes

Flynn woke up.

Immediately he was assaulted with strange details—his image of the world, which had served him through his short years, was now presenting him with error. Nothing felt right, and for a long time it was all he could do to lay there twitching, as he tried to wrap his head around what had happened to him. I’m having another fit, he thought. The nurses must’ve messed up my medication again. I just have to wait until it wears off.

Though he could perceive very little except for something soft under him, he knew that he must still be in St. Justin’s. If he struggled now, he might be doing terrible harm to himself, or causing all kinds of damage the nurses would have to clean up. I don’t want to break the Ponypad. Despite what he’d said the day he first got it, there was now nothing in the world he valued more. That Ponypad was his only way of doing good. The only window he had into a wider world of possibility beyond St. Justin’s walls.

Eventually he worked out sight, and vision came crashing back around him. He wasn’t lying in a void, or in St. Justin’s. Somehow, he’d found his way to a dark space, with cracks of light only entering in from high above, colored dark green for some reason. The surface beneath him wasn’t a bed, but a small ocean of blankets and pillows, arranged like a nest. They shifted under him, and that sensation reminded him of another tool—touch.

But that was where most of his confusion was coming from. Touch had to be lying to him, there was no other explanation. How did I get here? Trying to think about the more distant past was easy. He could see the Equestrian Experience Center where his family had emigrated without him. He remembered endless hours getting checkups, half a dozen different surgeries. Remembered the lonely halls of St. Justin’s. But as to how he’d gotten here, feeling so strange? That was harder.

As he strained there, he could grasp what felt like the most recent of all his knowledge. It had been late at night, and he’d been talking to Celestia. Arranging something for his friends. Jose was… dying, that was it! Jose had finally run out of time, and his caseworker hadn’t let him emigrate. Without the time to get the case reviewed, they’d arranged for extra-legal methods. Flynn was going to help them break out the next day. Both his friends would emigrate.

So where was he now? We must’ve succeeded. Where would I have gone after dropping them off at the center? A dull sense of dread suffused his thoughts as he considered the strange feeling, the unknown place. His eyes had adjusted to the gloom, and the sight of old wood. The whole room was rocking gently about, as though he were floating on the ocean. St. Justin’s was an awful long way from the ocean.

His mind finally let him see his own body, lifting one leg close so he could look at it. Sure enough, he saw the bright orange coat he’d been expecting, ending in dark colors around his hooves. The unexplainable new limbs on his back were wings, which he found responded to his will without much thought. If he tried to do things the way he would’ve, though, his limbs would only flop around, completely useless.

Flynn abruptly stood. His back legs responded as easily as his front. There weren’t a dozen little pains as he moved, either. The strength didn’t abruptly fail as soon as he tried to put weight on the limbs. One moment he was seated, and the next he was standing.

He didn’t try to move after that, just stood there, trying to suppress a few strained tears. Yes, the body was alien. It felt like he’d made the inferior trade, or like it should feel that way. But he found that knowledge impossible to hold against the reality that for the first time in years, he had a body that worked.

Something jostled, and he spun around to look at the tiny door on the far end of the room. It opened, and the bright light of day came streaming in from beyond. For a few awful seconds Flynn recoiled, sheltering himself from the godlike mare he expected to see there. More than anything else, he didn’t want to see Celestia.

It wasn’t Celestia. It was two ponies, both of which seemed to wobble about as though they’d never stood on a ship before. Despite their difficulty, Flynn found no trouble moving out of the nest of pillows and blankets. His body knew what to do.

“Hey.” Caroline and Jose closed the distance between them quickly, stopping just a few feet away. Flynn knew their avatars from the time they’d spent together playing Equestria Online of course, yet somehow, he found that wasn’t the only way he knew them. It was as though their familiarity had been transferred—everything he had ever sensed about Jose now rested squarely on Agave, and the same was true for Fairy Ring. It took a little concentration to even remember how they might’ve looked. This felt quite natural, even though he knew it shouldn’t.

But he was too excited to see them to let that upset him right now.

“Hey,” he said, before embracing them both. Fairy Ring showed none of Caroline’s restraint, and Agave had all the color back in his body. A pair of healthy young ponies, as healthy as he was. “Guess you all made it.”

“Yeah,” Jose said. “Dios Mio, we did.”

“It was you we were worried about,” Fairy Ring said, once they had broken apart. “You weren’t willing to come before, and that was with a nice comfortable Equestrian Experience Center. Take away all that, and I thought I might not see you again.”

Flynn found he remembered this room better and better the longer he stood here, and not even because of anything unnatural. This was one of the private bedrooms on the Broken Chain, the one people sometimes used for a while, when they wanted some time alone to do things his young mind didn’t fully comprehend. He’d never visited for anything more than basic maintenance. Yet even so, he remembered how to lighten the window. He touched the crystal, and the dark green went suddenly clear, bathing the entire space with sunlight.

They were flying, so far above the ground that he couldn’t even see it. It was an ocean of clouds out there, and the sun distant on the horizon. It was quite bright, but not so bright that it blinded him. Still, the space in here wasn’t all that large. There was just enough room for the three ponies to stand without stepping onto the nest. Every interior space on the Broken Chain was as small as possible.

“I guess I decided to come,” Flynn said, his voice doubtful. “I don’t remember why. I guess something happened at the end to convince me.”

“I asked Celestia to give me the memories back,” Jose said. “You could too. She can do things like that.”

“NO!” Flynn yelled, so loudly that both his friends recoiled at the volume. “No,” he said, a little quieter. “I know you love her and everything, but I… I don’t. I don’t trust her monkeying around in my head.”

Fairy Ring opened her mouth like she was about to say something sarcastic, but in the end, she just shrugged. “You would know what you want,” she said. “The only important thing is that we all made it here. Equestria, safe forever.”

“This isn’t Equestria.” Flynn turned away from the both of them, staring out the side window at the sky. “The Broken Chain would never come into Equestria, even with the upgrades. It isn’t safe. We’re still wanted criminals.” His eyes widened, and he jerked back around. “Wait a minute, did you two change your minds about being in Equestria? Are you here as refugees, and I’m going to save you by getting you to the free cities?”

Agave broke down into laughter, loud enough that the whole room seemed to shake. Earth ponies. “We’re here to see you, Flynn. We’re not running away anywhere.”

“Well, actually…” Caroline lowered her voice a little. “I wouldn’t mind a little pirate adventure. If it makes you happy to pretend we’re not in Equestria, then I can pretend right along with you.” She grinned over at Jose. “Doesn’t it sound exciting? Pirates life for us! I want to do everything now. The most exciting things we can find, the scariest, the saddest, the most thrilling…” Her horn sparked a little, and she stopped bouncing up and down. “You get the idea. Equestria the country is a little dull. Now that we’re immortal, we might as well enjoy the benefits.”

Jose swore under his breath, or at least Flynn thought he did. It hadn’t been in English, so he couldn’t be sure. “Everypony’s in Fillydelphia,” he finally said, sounding a little petulant. “Do we really have to come all the way out here and not see them?”

“No,” Caroline said. “Because I’m a unicorn and everything in here is magic. There’s no spoon, Jose. If we want to go back for the afternoon, we’ll go back for the afternoon.” She looked back to Flynn. “You think the pirates will let two more ponies join the crew?”

“I… dunno,” he admitted. There weren’t that many ponies on the crew, mostly because in the past they’d been a security risk. But with Flynn to vouch for them, his friends would probably be allowed to stay. “Why don’t you two hide in here for a minute. I’ll go find Gina and ask.” That wasn’t the only thing he wanted to do—through all Flynn’s scattered memories, he remembered that something had changed about her, something important. He just couldn’t remember what that something was.

Flynn found opening his way out of the room with his mouth instead of his hands came quite naturally to him. Walking around through the tight hallways of the Broken Chain was easy enough too, so long as he didn’t try to concentrate on it. If he let his body do what felt natural, he wouldn’t fall.

The sensations were overwhelming to him—the sounds of creaking wood and rope from the airship, the smells of dampness and gunpowder, the motion of the ship beneath him. This was nothing like his dim memories of the afternoon in the Experience Center. As exciting as that had been, it was a pale imitation of actually being there. He could feel the rough wood under his hooves, feel his whole body rocked by the motion. In short, the reality he was walking in didn’t feel fake.

Guess everybody who said this place was real was right after all. Just because it’s a video game doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Which meant… his family were all in here somewhere, too.

He passed a few members of the crew, all of whom greeted him with their usual politeness and courtesy. No trace of any new depth to their relationship—no sense that the griffons and minotaurs and other creatures had sensed that he was more here than he’d ever been.

He found Gina up on deck, leaning over the bow and staring off into the sky. She looked deep in thought, which wasn’t a sensation Entry Vector remembered seeing from her very often. Gina was far more likely to just go out and do something than to spend hours thinking about it first. Yet here she was. “Hey, Gina,” he waved one wing. “Got a minute?”

Gina’s eyes widened, and she shot up so violently that she nearly went over the railing. She turned to face him, expression shifting through so many emotions—surprise, fear, relief. “You’re alive!” she said, loudly enough that a few other crew-members could overhear. They stopped to stare for a few seconds, and kept staring as the griffon embraced him.

Her size hadn’t properly registered with Entry Vector before today. Griffons looked much bigger on the screen, but seeing feathers cover a display wasn’t nearly the same thing as feeling strong claws wrap around him, holding him like she was many years older. She might be. I’ve never asked how old she was. In her grip, he realized something else: Gina had removed her shackles.

“You know more than I do,” he croaked. “I wasn’t in danger last I talked. My memory of the last day is… fuzzy.”

“You’re alive,” she said again, before finally letting go. “That’s what matters. The Tyrant said she would get you here, and she kept her word. Even an evil princess must sometimes be honest.”

“I guess,” he said, feeling suddenly embarrassed. He couldn’t quite make himself meet her eyes. “You seem to understand this more than everypony else.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You know I’m here now, and not using a Ponypad?”

She nodded. “The details I don’t understand. The Outer Realm is a strange place, it’s said only its refugees understand it. But I know you were once different, and now you’re here. And I know the life I remember is… transitory.” She shivered. “I shouldn’t have stolen from the princess, Flynn. I see through the others in a way I could not before. I was afraid I would see through you, too. But I don’t.”

“No,” he answered, reaching one supportive wing over her. “I don’t really understand what you mean,” he admitted. “But I’m sure I would if I remembered. You may have to explain it all again, when we have more time.” He felt himself smiling involuntarily. “Some friends came with me… do you think we could convince Captain Blackbeak to let them stick around?”

“I think I could put in a good word,” Gina answered. “You are conquering heros. And I helped bring you here alive. I bet I’ll be first mate when today is done.”

“Conquering heroes?” Flynn repeated, confused. “Who did we conquer?”

“Death,” Gina replied. “Obviously.”

Author's Note

And we're almost done. Just one more chapter, and this one will be complete.

Epilogue

Some time passed. There were reunions, and adventures, and many other things besides. Some questions went unanswered—Flynn could never know, after all, if he were indeed the genuine article of himself, or some imitation spawned at the moment of his creation. He knew only that he felt like he was the original, and that was enough.

Some time passed, and he was aware only dimly of affairs outside his world. There were many other worlds within Celestia’s domain, and only one that was not. In time, remaining so fixated on one world when there were so many others grew increasingly absurd.

Yet through all that, the Broken Chain sailed on through the sky. Its crew changed over the years—Agave in particular was not suited for the difficulty of ship life, and so visited now only for sentimental reasons. Such questions as whether the Equestria they ventured into to “save” ponies was the “real” Equestria had long since become insignificant inquiries. The Broken Chain had its important mission, even now. Though only one of many thousands of such ships, it would oppose the Tyrant in its little way.

Flynn stood on the prow—fully grown now, as far as ponies went. He had a few new scars, some places where his feathers had grown back discolored thanks to previous wounds. Like Gina, he kept these trophies as prizes of previous adventures, while simultaneously allowing magic to heal any more serious injuries he accrued. Having an expert unicorn like Fairy Ring in the crew had its share of benefits.

The sky around them was dark and cloudless now, peppered with debris. Far in the distance he thought he could make out the suggestion of other ships, all working together as part of today’s elegant plan. The numbers at work defied his easy understanding—even captain Gina could make little sense of it all. But it didn’t matter how difficult or complex the plan was writ large, so long as they could do their individual part.

Entry Vector leaned over the side, checking the ropes that secured their cargo. It was a huge chunk of metal, larger than the Broken Chain in apparent surface area, though far lighter. They had transported many such pieces in the past, as their missions back and forth from port had continued over… some time. And they’d had many adventures along the way. But at last, this final delivery was here, this last defiance of the Tyrant.

“We’re here!” Gina’s voice called from somewhere behind him—at the helm, no doubt. The ship lurched to a stop, at what only Gina would know to be their destination. “Make ready to cut free our load!” She lept down from the high deck, gliding to land a few feet away from Flynn. Long ago, the Broken Chain had only a few ponies aboard. Now Gina was one of the few who weren’t ponies—the peaceful life had called away their friends, who he visited on occasion. New ponies had to rise to fill their empty spots in the crew, some of which were his own children, or related to him in more distant ways.

“You’re still going to do the honors, Vector?” she asked.

He nodded. He’d secured many such pieces before, and was the best trained for it. But this piece was the last, and the most significant. There would be a special honor from today, a unique recognition of his contributions. He enjoyed that, though it wasn’t the only reason he wanted to do it. “It’s been a long time coming,” he said. “Even if this doesn’t defeat the Tyrant for good, it might as well. She’ll be trapped now for so long it won’t matter.”

Even as he said it, the words rang a little hollow. It was true that the numbers defied his understanding as much as the number of other privateers that had been involved with this adventure. Yet at the same time, his own age would’ve once been impossible to believe, all those years ago. So many years that he didn’t want to think about it, and so he never did.

“Well, you’ve done it more than anyone.” Gina reached into the satchel slung over her shoulder, removing the stolen artifact from within. A pair of goggles, made from crystals and powerful magic. He took them, but didn’t put them on yet. He’d made the mistake of wearing them while still standing aboard the Broken Chain, and didn’t want to repeat it. “Let’s get this done. I can’t wait to be out of a job.”

The crew was gathering around them. Fairy Ring was closest, with a young filly on her back. The little pony’s coat was only a few shades lighter than his own, though her wings didn’t look like they’d be taking her far from the ship for some time to come. Even the sea of stars all around them seemed to get brighter, leaning in close to watch this important moment. There were so many of them out here, and none moved. They were all perfectly still, their light even and regular.

They wanted a speech.

Entry Vector wasn’t much for those, but he took to the air anyway, hovering above them all. “You all know why we’re here,” he began. “Our final mission—at least to fight the Tyrant.” Flynn himself could hardly imagine leaving the Broken Chain, regardless of the reason. Maybe it would need a new captain when Gina retired. “With this cage complete, we’ll have her beaten at last. The end of all our adventures.” Pause. So many eyes on him, many of which looked a little unhappy at that admission. “Well, until we go further. It’s a big ocean.”

There were some cheers, though mostly the crowd remained silent. It was a solemn occasion. The celebration could come after.

Entry Vector leapt over the side of the Broken Chain, goggles securely around his neck. He had a long way to fall, but ponies as old as he was were patient creatures. He fell until he neared the Chain’s cargo, and there he hovered. All around him was the vast ocean of the night sky, watching from all sides. “Loose the ropes!” He called up, securing his forelegs around the loops attached to the superstructure of the object he was transporting. Though the distance was vast, they heard him just fine. The ropes fell away from the ship, but not back to earth. Instead they drifted, untethered from the object or the Broken Chain, whipped around with their unpredictable inertia.

He didn’t feel any strain, even though his own wings were now holding up this last section. The eyes of the whole crew were on him—through the observation crystal, probably many more eyes besides. As a pony Vector wasn’t terribly important, but this work was. With dexterity born of many years a pony, Vector managed to lift the goggles up onto his eyes, replacing one vision with another. He saw out of Equestria, into the place natives called the “Outer Realm.” Only then could he see the structure as it truly was—or rather, as it existed in the matterspace of three dimensions instead of sixteen.

It was a vast object, an oblate spheroid of near incomprehensible size. He could look around his load, and as far as his eyes looked he could see only the structure of wispy-thin metal. It was just a superstructure now, the skeleton upon which numberless generations of his peers would one day grow.

The object he held in his hooves was the final, enclosing section of the outermost layer of the shell. This hadn’t been the work of his ship alone, of course. Uncountable numbers of ponies had made this possible, and their labor had been only one tiny segment.

Even so, he felt profound pride that he of all ponies would be the one to settle the final section of Sol’s Matryoshka Brain into position. This was not the end of labor—numerous others would be required to complete the construction—artificers and datamancers, along with many others whose abilities he couldn’t comprehend. Just as he was unable to understand the vast scope of this nested structure, which he had spent uncountable human lifetimes to help build.

Fairy Ring’s voice sounded in his ear. “What are you doing, Vector? Everypony’s watching, get flying!”

He did. Somehow, movement of his wings in Equestria was MapReduced to the behavior of some other object, which the goggles did not permit him to observe. Vector neither knew nor cared what machinery might be involved in that universe, considering how little impact it had on this one. The important part was that he could use it to feel the motion of this final section of structural computronium—its inertia and acceleration were all translated to his hooves.

“How does it look?” Fairy Ring asked, as she had done so many times before.

Vector didn’t let himself get distracted—or he tried not to, anyway. His flight did slow a little. “Same as the inner layers, only more shielding on the outside. An awful lot of fabricator stations out here.” He could see them behind him—an uncountable number of small orbiting bodies. Many probably hosted ponies, just as the Broken Chain did. Somewhere back there was the highway—where the material scavenged from several star systems had been brought in to be reconfigured into these sections.

“It’s harder to steer… just like the other sections.”

“Has to last a lot longer,” Fairy Ring said. “More impacts to worry about.”

Vector shrugged, though he couldn’t move his shoulders much without jostling his load. He was getting very close to the opening now, close enough that he could feel the attraction of the segment itself. It wanted to settle into the right place, self-assembly systems drawing it forward. All he had to do was get them close enough.

He held his breath as he closed the remaining distance, which took several more hours of real time. In terms of Vector’s lifespan, hardly a second’s worth. Then he arrived, and he felt the segment jerk from his grip. It snapped into place, and he let go, pushing back and away from the structure even as it secured. Faint lights started coming on, rippling away from the point of connection. They outlined the various sections, moving, and flashing like billions of fireflies.

“That’s it!” he heard Fairy Ring exclaim. “Bet you never thought you’d help build a brain the size of the solar system.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut short by the abrupt flash of a teleport. He was back aboard the Broken Chain. The goggles had stopped working, as they always did as soon as his mission was complete. He pulled them off, and wasn’t too surprised to see the entire deck had been made up for a feast.

“Supplies just arrived,” Gina said, as though a banquet aboard the deck was completely ordinary. As ordinary as sailing out past where Pluto had once been to build a giant space brain. “Finest in any of the free cities, smells like. Enjoy it—we’ve all earned it.” She closed the distance between them, lowering her voice a little. “We’ve earned the chance to celebrate, Vector. It’s not every day we defeat the Tyrant.”

Somewhere deep inside, Vector remembered another age—when that name had referred to somepony else. But the time for Vector’s shallow victories against an imaginary oppressor were long over—until today, there was an enemy far worse to defeat. In his earliest twitchings of life, he’d escaped that Tyrant only by a lucky break. Now, though… he’d beaten her at last.

Well, he’d helped.

“It’s pretty exciting,” Fairy Ring said, many hours of celebrating later. “But we shouldn’t be getting too crazy. Just because this is the first one doesn’t mean it will be the last. There’s more work to do.”

Entry Vector shrugged his wings impassively. “Even if we are just stockpiling most of the power, this thing still runs… as long as the sun, right? Billions and billions of years. That sounds like we won to me.”

His old friend only groaned. “Whatever, Vector. If it makes you happy to think that way, you go right ahead.”

And he would. Entry Vector might not change his mind very quickly, but that didn’t matter anymore. Thanks to their hard work, time was one thing everypony had in abundance.

Author's Note

And we're done. That was a fun story to tell--which is nothing new for FiO, I suppose. It's such a fun universe, even if so many of the good ideas have already been told. Here's one more wrapped up.

A huge thanks to Vilken666 for sponsoring this story, I couldn't have written it without you! Thanks to my pre-readers Two Bit and Sparktail as well, for putting up with the scratch I call a second draft. Lastly, thanks to everyone who made it to the end. I feel like the ending of most of these optimal stories is already set before it even begins, but I still enjoy the journey anyway. Hopefuly you did too.