Don't Leave Me With Myselfby Dubs RewatcherChaptersOneTwoThreeFourOneEvery Friday, Rainbow Dash spent fifth period the same way. First, she walked to her locker. Then, she saved the world from aliens. Fingers moving at superspeed, Rainbow entered in her lock combination and tore her locker open. “Forty-five minutes on the clock,” she murmured in her deep Announcer Voice. “The contract’s been signed. If Captain Rainbow Dash scores twenty half-field goals before time runs out, the aliens leave Earth forever. If she fails, they steal all our babies.” This one’s for you, babies. She pulled out her soccer ball, slammed the locker shut again, and zoomed down the hallway. If she hurried – and when did she not? – she could make it to the soccer field within thirty seconds, and make her first goal before the late bell even rang. She zipped through the nearly empty halls, burning her rubber soles until she rounded a corner and saw the double doors leading outside— —and also Roseluck, walking in the middle of the hall and carrying a box big enough to block her vision. Rainbow slammed both her feet down flat. “Watch out!” Arms outstretched, she smashed into Roseluck, knocking them both to the floor. Sprawled across the linoleum, Rainbow groaned. Then, rubbing her head, she sat up and chuckled. “Sorry, Rosey. You okay?” In front of her, Roseluck crawled across the ground to her cardboard box. The crash had sent it flying, spilling its contents all across the hall. “Ugh, Rainbow!” she said, stuffing bags of balloons, streamers, and confetti back inside. “Can’t you ever watch where you’re going? These Fall Formal decorations need to be delivered, like, yesterday!” “I was watching!” Rainbow said. She shrugged. “I just, uh, couldn’t slow down in time. You know how it is. Magic superpowers and all?” “Hmph. You and that magic are always—oh, goddess above!” Roseluck scrambled over to the other side of hall and picked up a crown of roses. Half the flowers had been dented and crushed. “This was supposed to be the centerpiece of the Fall Formal wreath. And you smashed it!” Rainbow cringed. “Crap. Sorry.” Roseluck glared. “These roses took a whole season to grow. They’re from my mother’s private garden!” “Yeah, okay?” Rainbow felt both her chest and face go hot. “I said I’m sorry. What more do you want?” Looking away, back down to the crooked ring of flowers, Roseluck snorted. “I want some less obnoxious classmates, for one.” Rainbow blinked—then scowled. “I’m obnoxious? You’re a—” A third voice cut in: “Buzz off, Rose.” Rainbow held down her curses and looked up. Sunset Shimmer appeared, one hand on hip, narrowed eyes locked on Roseluck’s throat. “Buzz off?” Roseluck repeated. She held out the flower crown. “She’s the one who ruined it! These flowers—” “You can buy more at the corner store right down the block,” Sunset said. “Now why don’t you leave us alone?” “At the corner—” Roseluck clenched her fists. Grumbling, she picked up her cardboard box and stomped off. Rainbow watched her go with a smile. Sunset offered her hand. “You planning on sitting around all day?” Rainbow had gotten so caught up in arguing that she’d completely forgotten she was still on the ground. She took Sunset’s hand and laughed as she stood. “Hell yeah! You totally showed her.” “I did, didn’t I?” Chewing her lip, Sunset gazed off in the direction Roseluck had gone. “Goddess, that really was mean, wasn’t it? She probably worked super hard on those flowers, and I just went right back into Bully Mode. I should go apologize.” “No way!” Rainbow said. “She was being a total jerk. I apologized to her and everything, and she still yelled at me!” “To be fair, you did basically run her over. I heard the crash from two halls away.” “Yeah, but—whatever.” Rainbow blew a raspberry, but then elbowed Sunset in the side. “Hey, that reminds me: happy anniversary.” Stifling a yawn, Sunset raised a brow. “For what?” Rainbow gestured to a banner that hung across the hall in front of them: “Fall Formal! CHS Gymnasium, this Saturday!” “Oh.” Sunset sighed. “One year since I went crazy and almost killed everyone.” “Aw, don’t look at it like that,” Rainbow said, grinning. “You went crazy, yeah, but you got better. Tomorrow, it’ll be one year since we became friends! And you’re already, like, the goodest good guy ever. It’s awesome!” Sunset shook her head, but smiled. “I dunno if I’d say that, but thanks.” “So, you gonna celebrate?” Rainbow leaned in. “Maybe bring Twilight over for a Sexy Former Demon Party after the dance?” The smile disappeared. “Way to ruin the moment.” “Hey, you brought up the demon thing first.” “No, we’re not having a ‘Demon Party.’” Sunset shrank a bit. “I appreciate Pinkie’s enthusiasm, but I don’t wanna make a big deal out of what happened last year. Twi wasn’t around then. She doesn’t know how bad I got.” “You didn't tell her what happened?” “I did! Kinda,” Sunset said. “I mean, she knows about the whole demon thing, and she knows how you girls took me down. But she doesn't know that all of that was my own fault. Or about my plan to conquer Equestria.” She gave Rainbow a weak smile. “I’ve been meaning to tell her. But it’s like you said—I’m good now, so it’s not important. Right?” “I guess.” Rainbow shrugged. “I’m just saying, you better tell her someday, or someone else will beat you to it.” Sunset’s face hardened. “You better not.” Rainbow shielded herself with her hands. “Hey, I never said me! I’m the best secret keeper ever.” “Sure you are,” said Sunset, settling back down. Rainbow took a breath, clearing out her annoyance. “I’m headed out to the field,” she said, jerking her head behind her. “Wanna come be my goalie? I’ll go easy on you.” “No thanks,” Sunset said, yawning again. “I’m headed to the library to take a nap. I’ve got the next two periods free, and I’m gonna conk right out.” For the first time since they’d met up, Rainbow took a good look at Sunset, and winced at the result. Frizzled and knotted hair, crooked mascara, inside-out t-shirt—Sunset looked like she’d spent the last week in a blender, being twisted up and thrown back out. She stared at Rainbow with baggy, glazed-over eyes. “Are you okay?” Rainbow asked. “Did you get mugged or something?” “What? No, of course not.” Sunset waved her off. “I just didn’t get much sleep.” Rainbow looked at Sunset’s neck, from where her magical geode usually hung, tucked beneath her shirt—and realized it was missing. “Are you sure? Where’s your amulet?” Sunset glanced down, then shot Rainbow a raised-brow smirk. “Taking a good look at my boobs, yeah?” Rainbow placed a hand on her heart and sent back a smirk of her own. “Let’s just say I’ve got an eye for detail. Now seriously, what’s up?” “It’s nothing! I’m just... not wearing my geode anymore.” Sunset touched the empty space below her neck, but shook her head. “Don’t worry, it’s pony stuff.” “So? I’ve got the wings, the weird ears; I’m basically half-pony.” Rainbow grabbed Sunset’s shoulder. “C’mon. If it’s bothering you, I wanna know what it is.” Sunset pursed her lips—then shrugged. “I guess you deserve to find out. Friends don’t keep secrets, right?” Rainbow remembered the stash of King Size chocolate bars she kept hidden under her bed. “Yep,” she said. “Secrets suck.” Crossing her arms, Sunset leaned against a nearby locker. “When I was in Equestria, studying with the Princess, I was a really bad kid. I’d bully other students, stay out until who knows how late. I broke every rule I could, because I thought it made me independent. And y’know, unicorn magic is great and all, but there are still spells you’re never supposed to learn. Never supposed to cast.” She looked to Rainbow. “I cast one of them.” “What was it?” Rainbow thought about all the weird and fantastical magic Sunset had told her about over the months—spells to breathe fire, to move the sun, to grow wings and fly. Just how bad did a spell have to be to get banned? “What did it do?” “I put a monster inside of my own head,” Sunset said. She tapped her skull. “It’s called the Marabunta, and it was meant to keep other unicorns from invading your thoughts. If it captures an intruder, it takes the form of their deepest fear and tortures them until they lose their mind.” She growled and turned away. “It’s not like I was ever at any risk of being interrogated. I just wanted to be edgy...” “You should’ve just worn all black and gotten a tattoo. That’s what Fluttershy did.” Rainbow craned her neck to look into Sunset’s eyes, trying to find a gargoyle behind her pupils. Sunset pushed her away. “So, what? Is it trying to get out of your head?” “No, and that’s the problem!” Sunset touched the empty space below her neck again. “I’ve gotten so good with my memory powers—my mind-reading powers—that whenever I even wear my geode, the Marabunta starts freaking out. It scrambles my thoughts, gives me awful nightmares... It’s like it thinks I’m invading my own mind.” “You put it there, can’t you get rid of it?” Rainbow asked, throwing out her hands. “I’ve read Daring Do. Whenever she gets hit by some ancient spell, there’s always a counterspell to get rid of it. Just get one of those!” “It’s not that easy,” Sunset said. “There probably is a counter, yeah, but I’d have to cast it on the Marabunta myself, which would mean going inside my mind alone to confront it. What if it takes me before I can kill it? I’m lost forever!” She growled. “I don’t know what else I can do but stop wearing the geode. I really screwed myself over on this one.” Rainbow looked away—and then turned right back. “I could go with you.” “What?” Sunset’s eyes narrowed. “How?” “You step into other people’s minds all the time,” Rainbow said. “So, what’s stopping you from bringing someone into your mind?” Sunset stared. Then, scratched her head. “That’s not a bad idea. I mean, I dunno if it would work, but we could try.” “Yeah!” Rainbow pumped her fist. “I’ll grab the girls, then we’ll go into your head with you and hold down the Maribelle while you blast it!” “I don’t think I could handle having that many people in my brain at once,” Sunset said, touching her head. “Channeling too hard into just one person’s thoughts gives me a migraine as is.” “Fine. The two of us can go by ourselves, then.” “It might be dangerous,” Sunset said. “Are you sure you want to try this? If you get caught by the Marabunta, it’ll try to drive you insane with your deepest fear. Can you handle that?” Rainbow scoffed. “I don’t have a deepest fear. I’m not scared of anything!” Sunset’s wary gaze lingered for a moment, but she soon nodded. “Alright. Next period, I’ll grab my journal and ask Princess Twilight if she can find a book with the countercurse. Assuming she does, why don’t we meet at my place after school?” “Fine by me,” Rainbow said. “You need me to bring anything?” Sunset tapped her chin. “Yeah, actually. I think we should have a third person with us, to look after our bodies while we’re in my head. We’re gonna basically be comatose; what happens if the apartment burns down? It won’t matter if we kill the Marabunta or not if we get barbequed.” “Have anyone in mind?” “It’s gotta be someone responsible,” said Sunset. “Someone who’s quick-thinking, and can help if something goes way wrong and the Marabunta escapes my head.” Rainbow smiled. “I think I know just the girl.” Fluttershy twiddled her thumbs. “If the building does burn down, chances are I’m only strong enough to carry one of you.” “Eh.” Rainbow shrugged. “It’s Sunset’s apartment. Let her go down with the ship.” Sitting together in the back of their Woodshop class, Fluttershy put the finishing touches on a two-story birdhouse, outfitted with its own balcony and bird bedroom, while Rainbow Dash just tinkered with a doorstop. “So Sunset has a... monster in her brain?” Fluttershy asked. “That sounds scary. How are you going to fight it?” “Of course it’s scary, that’s what makes it so cool! Sunset’s gonna get her counterspell, then we’re gonna go in her head and kick some Macaroni butt!” Laughing, Rainbow picked up her hammer and swung it out like a sword, making Fluttershy scoot back. “She’ll hold it down, then I’ll rush in there like zip, zoom, zap—and then it’ll be like ‘Oh nooooo!’ but I’ll be like in your face!” Eyes closed, Rainbow thrust out her hammer, hit something solid, and heard a sharp cracking sound. The entire class stalled. Going stiff, Rainbow turned her head, and found her hammer stuck through the side of Fluttershy’s birdhouse. Fluttershy covered her mouth. “Crap, crap!” Rainbow said. She pulled out her hammer, tearing off another chunk of wood. “I didn’t mean to do that!” Fluttershy stared at the broken foundation of her birdhouse with wide eyes. “I spent a week on that,” she said. She took a quivering breath. “It was supposed to be a present for all my bluejay friends.” A murmur rose from the class behind them. Throat drying up, Rainbow leaned into Fluttershy and hissed, “I’m sorry! I swear, it was just an accident—” Rainbow saw a single tear forming at the edge of Fluttershy’s eye, and terror gripped her chest. “Miss Dash!” The temptation to superspeed out the window fell over Rainbow. Gritting her teeth, she turned around to face Mr. Doodle. “How many times do I have to tell you?” Mr. Doodle yelled, stomping up to their workbench. “No playing with the tools! This is the third time this semester that your inconsiderate recklessness has ruined someone else’s work!” “It’s not ruined.” Rainbow glanced back at the birdhouse, and found that half of the second floor had caved in. Her eyes fell to her shoes. “Sorry.” “Yes, yes, you’re always sorry.” Mr. Doodle scowled. “Sorry isn’t a magic word, you know. It doesn’t just make everything okay! There’s gonna come a day when just apologizing isn’t gonna cut it anymore!” Rainbow took the scolding like a newspaper to a dog’s head. She studied her shoelaces. “Yeah.” The class hung around them, silent, staring—until Mr. Doodle stomped his foot and made everyone jump. “What is everybody gawking at? We’ve still got twenty minutes left, people! Get to work!” While the room kicked into normal gear, Rainbow turned back to her desk and slumped across it. “I hate this class.” She looked to Fluttershy. “I’m not reckless, am I?” Fluttershy, picking chunks of splintered wood out from her birdhouse, sniffled. After a too-long pause, she said, “No. Of course not.” Rainbow stared for a moment, hands clenched. Then she sighed and grabbed a glue-gun. “Here, lemme help.” “So, tomorrow.” Sunset moved close to Twilight and grinned. “Am I finally gonna get to see you dance or what?” “I don’t think so,” said Twilight, giggling. “After the Crystal Prep Freshman Ball, I made a vow to never dance again. Count yourself lucky: this way, you won’t have to fetch the nurse when I fall on my face.” “You can’t hide forever. One of these days, I’m gonna see you shake that cute little butt of yours.” Cheeks pink, Twilight rolled her eyes. “In your dreams.” Sunset held down a yawn. “I wish.” The two of them walked this path home most days, cutting through the woods behind CHS to get downtown faster. The two only shared one class, so sometimes this was the most time they spent together all day. “By the way,” said Twilight, “Pinkie Pie wanted to see you. She—” “I know,” Sunset said with a groan. “I already bumped into her. She wants to throw this big party for me after the Formal to celebrate my ‘anniversary,’ and wants me to give a speech or something.” “Ooh.” Twilight smiled. “You’re good at making speeches.” Sunset snorted. “I just wish people would stop reminding me.” “It’s a big occasion, isn’t it?” Twilight asked. “Even if your last Fall Formal wasn’t the best, that’s no reason to keep sulking.” “It’s dumb!” Sunset said, throwing up a hand. “It’s like celebrating a serial killer going on a rampage! Police might’ve taken them down afterwards, but a whole bunch of people still got hurt.” “Don’t say that.” Twilight frowned. “You are not a killer. You’re a girl—a very cute girl, in fact. Even if your shirt is inside-out today.” “Some people still look at me funny, like I’m about to grow claws again and tear their throat out. Trixie asks me to teach her demon magic at least once a month.” “You shouldn’t pay attention to them,” Twilight said. She squeezed Sunset’s hand. “All that matters is that you’re trying your best to do good. Are you trying your best?” Probably not. “I think so.” “Good!” Twilight nodded. “Keep doing that, and you’ll keep being amazing.” Sunset couldn’t have hid her grin, even if she wanted to. “Goddess, you are so cheesy.” “I’m the cheesy one? You spend Calc class drawing pictures of us fighting monsters together.” Twilight offered Sunset a tiny smile. “All your friends have forgiven you. Pinkie just wants to make you happy, in her own silly way.” “I know.” That’s not the problem. They stumbled out of the forest, exiting onto a forked intersection. One road led deeper into the city to pass by Sunset’s apartment, while the other led to the quieter residential areas where Twilight lived. “Speaking of calculus—do you wanna come over and start the integration problems Miss Cheerilee assigned?” Twilight asked, voice cracking in excitement. “We could probably finish in twenty minutes if we worked together! That’d leave us time to do—y’know. Other stuff.” A primal heat filled Sunset’s body. She grinned and opened her mouth to accept, but then remembered the bare space above her chest. “Sorry,” she said, “but I can’t. Rainbow is coming over to help me with... something. A project.” “Rainbow?” Twilight tilted her head. “You two don’t have any classes together, do you?” The truth nipped at Sunset’s gums, trying to wiggle its way out of her mouth. But she swallowed it back down. What was she meant to say? That she’d broken at least five magic safety laws and created a monster? That said monster now lived in her skull, and was tearing her mind apart from the inside? I told Rainbow. Why can’t I tell Twilight? The grin Twilight wore when she called Sunset “amazing” stuck in Sunset’s head like the most beautiful painting. She couldn’t taint it. “No, actually, I’m the one helping her,” Sunset said. Old instincts flaring back to life, she put on her practiced fake smile. “She needs to study for her Precalc test, and asked me to tutor her.” “She asked for help?” Twilight gaped. “Is she sick or something?” Sunset rubbed the back of her head. “I dunno. I guess she just really wants to pass this test.” Twilight pursed her lips, and the cold fear that she’d see through the lie crept over Sunset—until Twilight shrugged. “Well, okay. I suppose it is for a good cause. And who better to teach Dash than the Calculus Master?” Sunset chuckled. “I’m glad you finally admit the truth.” “Don’t get a big head.” Twilight turned around and walked off in the direction of her house. Waving, she called back, “Good luck with Rainbow! See you at the Fall Formal tomorrow!” Sunset returned the wave limply, guilt weighing on her. But with a deep breath, she pushed the bad feelings to the back of her mind. She doesn’t need to know. I’ve changed—all the bad stuff is in the past. As the sky outside grew dark, Sunset leafed through her journal, Fluttershy chatted with Sunset’s pet gecko Ray, and Rainbow lounged on the couch. For the fifth time since she’d arrived at Sunset’s apartment, Rainbow hesitantly laid her head down on the cushions and sniffed. “Has anyone ever told you your couch smells like strawberries?” In her loft bed, Sunset went rigid. “Uhm,” she said, looking away. “No. No one’s told me that.” “Ooh, strawberries are nice,” said Fluttershy. She smiled. “Speaking of, has Twilight told either of you about that new strawberry shampoo she’s been using? She makes it sound so luxurious.” Rainbow grinned. “Sounds like she’s been giving Sunset some free samples.” She thought for a moment about what she’d just implied, then leapt off the couch with a yelp. Face bright pink, Sunset said, “Could you guys quiet down? I’m trying to memorize the Marabunta countercurse Princess Twilight sent me.” Fluttershy flinched. Rainbow snorted and sat back down. In a different seat. A few minutes later, Sunset shut the journal. “Alright, I think I’ve got it. Rainbow?” “Finally.” Rainbow ran up the stairs to Sunset’s bed and jumped on, nearly knocking Sunset to the first floor in the process. When she saw Sunset’s glare, she snickered. That just made Sunset’s glare deeper. Fluttershy looked up at them. “Are you sure you two will be alright?” “We’ll be fine,” Rainbow said, flopping down onto her stomach. “We go into Sunset’s mind, grab the monster, blast it, and come right back. It’ll be easy!” “Thanks again for babysitting us.” Sunset pointed at her jacket, draped over a chair. “My wallet’s in my pocket. If you wanna order a pizza or something while we’re under, go crazy.” “No, no, don’t worry.” Fluttershy tickled Ray’s chin. “Ray and I will be perfectly happy entertaining ourselves.” Sunset turned back to Rainbow, then grabbed her geode from the nightstand and tied it around her neck. “Ugh, just wearing this thing, I can feel the Marabunta raging inside my head. When we find it, it’s not going to be happy.” “Sounds like a challenge,” Rainbow said, puffing out her chest. “Anything I need to know before we beat this sucker?” “I’ve walked around inside my own head before, so I’ve got some experience.” Sunset fingered the amulet. “I think I’ll be able to guide us through it, but there’ll be side effects: using the geode is going to make the both of us way more emotional. Spend too long inside my head, and we might just start having wild mood swings.” “So it’ll be like we’re on our periods.” “You’ve got such a way with words, Dash.” Giggling, Sunset offered her hands. “Here’s hoping this works. Ready?” With a smirk, Rainbow grabbed them. “You know it.” Sunset closed her eyes. A tinnitus-like ringing filled the air as the amulet hanging from her neck sparked to life, glowing a bright red. Rainbow could feel the magic flowing along Sunset’s skin, a sharp tingle, like tiny flickers of lightning jumping between their entwined fingers. Sunset’s eyes snapped open, beaming with pure white energy. Rainbow started to flinch back, but the apartment disappeared. A swirling purple vortex surrounded her, magic boring into her eyes and ears and skin. She tried to scream, but couldn't open her lips, couldn't move at all. The flashing lights blinded her, the magic twisted up her guts and wrung them back out. Then, nothing. Then, she fell through the sky. TwoRainbow Dash had heard the pickup line before: “Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” But it wasn’t until she’d been sucked into someone else’s brain through a magic geode and spit out of a vortex that she could give her definite answer: Yes. Yes, it did. Gravity claimed Rainbow Dash with force, pulling her from the sky, straight to the ground. “Aaugh!” she shouted, crashing stomach-first onto a hard, cold surface. She stayed still, but the needles in her head didn't fade. Holding in a barrel of puke, she scrabbled onto her hands and knees and scanned the area. Hundreds upon hundreds of bookshelves, each one as tall and wide as CHS, surrounded her. Above her hung the shadowy black sky she’d fallen from; she looked down, and found a perfect reflection of herself in the marble floor. In the corner of her eye, a hand appeared. “Need some help?” Rainbow took Sunset’s hand and rose to her feet. “Ugh,” she said, holding her head. “I feel like I just slammed back, like, fifty beers.” “You haven’t had a sip of booze in your life.” “Doesn’t mean I don’t know it what feels like,” Rainbow said, turning up her nose. Her skull throbbed at the sudden motion. “Where are we?” Stepping forward, Sunset gestured to the bookshelves around them. “Welcome to my mind! I guess your idea worked.” “Your mind is a library?” Rainbow laughed. “Who are you, Twilight?” Sunset rolled her eyes. “My mind is a lot of things. This is just where you enter—a room containing the contents of every book I’ve ever read. Think of it like a lobby. I’ve read your mind before, you have one too.” “I doubt mine is as nerdy as this.” “My mind isn’t nerdy. It’s... sophisticated. Cultured.” Rainbow snatched a book from one of the shelves and flipped it open. “This is just filled with algebra!” Sunset pulled it away. “Don’t touch that.” “Why?” Rainbow raised a brow. “Is it important? Does your brain, like, need math to survive?” “No, it’s just—” Sunset sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Listen, Rainbow. If you’re gonna go running around my mind with me, then we’ve gotta set some ground rules first. For one: no reading my memories without my permission.” Under a narrow-eyed glance, Rainbow tried to smile. “Why? You think I’m gonna blab to the whole school or something?” Sunset didn’t smile back. “Because snooping in someone’s memories is messed up?” “You look at other people’s memories all the time.” “Only when they’re evil.” Rainbow opened her mouth again, but closed it when she realized she had nothing to say. She just wanted to argue more. “Holy hell,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “You were right about the amulet messing with my head.” “Told you,” Sunset said with a tiny smile. She put the algebra book back on the shelf. “We should try to keep as calm as we can. But seriously, don’t snoop around, okay? My brain, my rules.” Rainbow ignored the hot flash of annoyance. “Fine. So, where is this monster of yours?” All she saw around her were shelves, stretching out beyond her sight and into darkness. “I dunno.” Sunset touched her geode. “I can feel its presence, but the Marabunta is designed to be stealthy, to ambush intruders. I doubt it’s just gonna hand itself to us on a silver platter.” She turned to Rainbow. “But considering a foreign body just invaded my mind, I imagine it’s not going to be happy either.” Rainbow smirked. “I’m foreign? You’re the horse alien.” “Not what I meant.” Sunset walked off, down a random aisle. “I haven’t totally explored this library, but I think I know the way to the next room. Come with me, and keep your guard up.” “Aye aye, Captain.” Rainbow followed after, running to catch up. Sunset’s mind-library went on for miles it seemed, stuffed with books upon books upon books of every shape and size. Just how many books had Sunset read in her life? Rainbow didn’t think that this many books even existed. She enjoyed a good adventure novel now and then, but Sunset’s mind looked like the king of all libraries. “Y’know,” Rainbow said, “as nerdy as this is, I was expecting it to be a lot weirder. Like, melting clocks and talking animals.” “Are talking animals really so weird anymore?” Sunset asked with a smile. “But you’d be surprised. Our minds are pretty straightforward, so long as you’re not Pinkie Pie.” “I was at least expecting to turn into a pony.” Sunset winked. “Feel free to walk around on all fours if you’d like.” “Kinky,” said Rainbow, turning Sunset red. “Speaking of kinky: what kind of dark hidden secrets do you have hidden in here? “I don’t have any hidden secrets.” “C’mon, everyone’s got a secret. Lemme guess: when no one’s looking, you pick your nose.” “What? Ew.” Grimacing, Sunset shook her head. “I told you this morning, I don’t keep secrets anymore. But what about you? Are you sure you really aren’t afraid of anything?” “Of course I’m not. I mean, have you seen me?” Rainbow rolled up her sleeves and flexed, showing off her lean, muscled arms. “How could someone as awesome as me be scared of anything? This monster of yours will be crying for his mommy once I’m through with him.” Sunset simpered. “Y’know, Dash, I get being confident, but some people might find that bravado of yours a bit obnoxious.” Rainbow dropped her arms and locked them to her side. “I’m not obnoxious,” she spat, louder than she’d meant. “I didn’t say you were. I just said that flexing in my face might be.” “Oh.” Rainbow turned her head away, trying to ignore how badly her face burned. “Well, that’s not either.” She didn’t pay attention to Sunset’s response. The echo of their voices faded, and silence bore down on them. Rainbow hated places like this, where every word she spoke was sent right back to show how dumb she sounded. She squinted, trying to see the end of the path they walked down, but shadows covered the aisles. The monster could’ve been hiding around any corner, behind any shelf, waiting for its prey to stumble into its trap. Any second now, it could leap out and snatch them away—would Sunset cast the counterspell before it drove Rainbow insane? It can’t show me my worst fear if I’ve got no fear. I’m not a baby—I can handle this. Rainbow steeled her jaw and forced the thought out of her mind. To distract herself, she turned to the books that littered the aisles. She couldn’t imagine what might be in these books—aside from boring algebra, of course. And if Sunset really didn’t have any secrets, why couldn’t Rainbow read anything? Snooping was only snooping if you were trying to get dirt on someone, not entertain yourself. That’s what Rarity said, anyway. As they passed into another aisle, Rainbow fell back from Sunset, then reached up and pulled down the biggest, coolest-looking book she saw. Bound in blood-red leather, it looked like it’d come straight out of a vampire flick. She opened it up to a page in the middle and furrowed her brow. Unintelligible scribblings stared back at her, some bizarre cross between gibberish and gobbledygook. Drawings of horses and skulls filled the margins. She chuckled. “Hey!” Sunset turned around and frowned. “I thought I said not to look at anything!” “Sorry, sorry, it’s just—” Rainbow turned the book around, showing Sunset the page she’d opened up to. “This looks like something an emo kid would doodle in their math notebook.” Sunset went white. She shot towards Rainbow, grabbed the book from her hands, and tossed it back onto a random shelf. “Whoa, whoa!” Rainbow said, checking her fingers for papercuts. “What was that?” “Nothing.” Sunset hurried forward. “Just a stupid book.” “That was not nothing.” Rainbow ran and grabbed her shoulder, twisting her around to see her face. “C’mon. I thought you said you had no secrets?” Sunset stared, blank faced—then snorted. “It was a book of dark magic. Worse than the Marabunta—the kind that’s made to hurt innocent people.” “...And you have it memorized?” “No!” Sunset shouted. She sputtered, then added, “Well, yeah, I do, but that’s just because I have a good memory. You remember pretty much everything you read, technically, you just can’t access—” She stopped and face-palmed. “It’s before I became friends with you girls, okay? When I was evil.” Shaking, she managed to look Rainbow in the eye. “Really.” “Okay, okay.” Cursing herself for not thinking before she spoke, Rainbow put on a smile and patted Sunset’s back. “Don’t worry about it. I bet you have lots of weird pony stuff in here.” She paused. “And, uh, sorry for snooping, I guess.” Silent, Sunset nodded. The floor beneath them shook, sending a few books tumbling to the floor. Sunset and Rainbow grabbed each other as the tremor passed through, and shared a wide-eyed look once it ended. Rainbow swallowed. “Was that...?” Sunset took a deep breath. “I think so. That must mean we’re going in the right direction.” Her embarrassment seemingly forgotten, she let go of Rainbow’s jacket and resumed walking. “Come on, we’re not far from the exit.” Taking one last glance at the book of dark magic, now lying open on the floor, Rainbow followed. Eventually, they reached the end of the darkened horizon—a marble wall, with a single unmarked door fitted into the middle. Sunset opened it up, and the two walked through. They entered a narrow hallway, each wall dotted with countless doors, just like the one they’d just opened. Sunset blinked. “We went the wrong way.” “What?” Rainbow’s whole body wilted. “We’ve been walking for, like, twenty days. And now we have to go back?” “No, we should be fine.” Sunset headed forward, one hand brushing the wall. “This just isn’t what I was expecting to see. I’ve never been in here before.” “Well, what’s behind the doors?” Rainbow tried to peer through a keyhole, but just found darkness. Sunset opened a random door. Her face went red and she slammed it shut again. “I think I know what hall this is now,” she said, backing away. Rainbow leaned forward. “Yeah?” For a moment, Sunset kept quiet, glancing between the closed doors. Then, with that same blank face she had taken on about the book, said, “Stay here, don’t open anything. Please. I’m going ahead to look for the Marabunta. There’s a chance it could be hiding behind one of these doors, so—” “Excuse me?” Rainbow stomped up to Sunset, hands on her hips. “Could you get over this weird snooping phobia you’ve got? I did not get thrown into a magic brain vortex just to sit on my butt. I came here to help you fight!” She pointed to the door Sunset had opened. “And what happened to not keeping secrets? We, like, just went over this!” “There’s a difference between something being a secret and something being—” Sunset waved her hand around, like she was searching for the words in the air. “—personal. And besides, you’ve got super speed, and this hall echoes like crazy; if I find the Marabunta, I’ll call for you, and you can run and meet me.” “Can’t I just follow you?” “I’m probably gonna be opening lots of doors, and I’d rather you not peek in.” Sunset pursed her lips. “Again.” “Ugggghhhhhh.” Rainbow threw her arms up and banged her fists against a wall. “This is so dumb!” “Hey, it’s my mind,” Sunset said, hands on hips. “My brain, my rules.” “I heard you the first time you said that.” Rainbow slid down the wall and groaned. “Fine.” Sunset nodded and walked off, checking different doors as she went. Rainbow glowered. Fluttershy sighed. Rainbow and Sunset—both of whom’s eyes had become like searchlights, blazing with white energy—had been gone for almost an hour now. Ray had fallen asleep just a few minutes later. Fluttershy had no phone service in this part of town, and had forgotten to ask Sunset for the WiFi password. Already she’d organized all of Sunset’s bookshelves, checked all the outlets to make sure there was no danger of a fire breaking out, and rebuilt her birdhouse. Now she just sat by Sunset’s desk, hands folded in her lap, waiting for her friends to return. Her eyes wandered around the apartment, searching for something new to clean. They fell upon Sunset’s jacket, still hanging from another nearby chair. She knew she couldn’t call for food—no phone service—but still she stood and picked Sunset’s jacket up. “Goodness,” she said, stroking the faux leather. “This is so smooth. No wonder Sunset wears it so much.” She felt the insides, and found they were just as soft as the outside was smooth. She glanced up at Sunset and Rainbow. Still caught in their trance. Slipping the jacket on, Fluttershy walked over to Sunset’s mirror. She giggled at her reflection; her pink locks didn’t complement the black leather as well as Sunset’s red-and-orange did, but she still looked quite nice. Hot, even. Placing her hands on her hips, Fluttershy smirked as hard as she could. “I’m Sunset Shimmer,” she said, trying to imitate her friend’s deeper voice. “I ride motorbikes and fight brain demons. I’m a total bad girl.” She laughed again, and moved to take off the jacket—but stopped when she noticed Sunset’s walk-in closet, door ajar. She scurried over and peered inside. She found dozens of leather jackets. Tight, vibrantly colored miniskirts. Stilettos sharp enough to piece steel. “Oh, my.” Ten. Minutes. Rainbow had waited for ten minutes, and Sunset still hadn’t returned. Just how many doors did this hall have? Rainbow was starting to wish that the Marigold would just attack already. Even that would be better than just sitting there, staring at the ceiling. For the third time since Sunset had left, Rainbow shouted a curse. When the echo faded, flooding her with silence once again, she slumped over onto her side. She hated this. She hated the quiet, hated that Sunset didn’t trust her, hated that Sunset had left her behind like a piece of trash when all she wanted was to help. Why was Sunset acting so weird? Why was she treating Rainbow like an idiot? Maybe she’s got a crush on me. “Nah.” Maybe it’s because all I do is make people angry. Rainbow balled up her fists. Memories hung in her head: teachers, coaches, former friends, all scolding and yelling at her for no good reason. Reckless, they said. Rude. Selfish. Stupid. We don’t want you here. She shook the thought off and stood up. “This is stupid.” Probably just Sunset’s geode messing with her emotions again. “I can help,” she said, walking up to the door Sunset had opened. “And Sunset can get over her dumb snooping obsession.” She turned the knob, threw the door open, and walked inside. She saw two familiar people. And a familiar couch. Sprinting back out, she closed the door tight, then swore never to visit Sunset’s apartment again. As she tried to calm her speeding heart, she picked another door further down the line and entered it. She found herself standing behind the counter at Sugarcube Corner, next to Mrs. Cake. The store was packed, each and every table filled with chatting customers. And just on the other side of the counter, talking and laughing with Mrs. Cake, stood Sunset. Yet it wasn’t the Sunset that Rainbow knew. This Sunset was smaller, scrawnier, younger—first year of high school younger. She shared one last laugh with Mrs. Cake, then placed her order. Once Mrs. Cake walked away, however, Sunset’s smile disappeared, replaced by a snide scowl. She took a tiny glance around the store before snatching two dollar bills out of the tip jar. When Mrs. Cake returned with her food, Sunset’s smile came back on, and she handed the bills over as payment. “Hey!” Rainbow said. “That’s real low, Sunset.” If anyone could hear her, they didn’t show it. Sunset waved goodbye and walked out of the shop, humming as she went. The world faded to black for a moment, then the scene—This must be a memory, I guess.—began to replay. Rainbow stepped back out of the dream and closed the door. Scratching her chin, Rainbow headed further down the hall. What was the theme here? What did these memories share? Things Sunset was embarrassed about? Ashamed of? Didn’t want anyone to know about? Cold guilt tugged at Rainbow’s chest. Looking through Sunset’s memories was messed up. She knew that. But she also knew that Sunset needed help. And she’d never get it with Rainbow just sitting around. Rainbow headed to the next door. Deep breaths, Sunset repeated to herself, trying to snuff out the churning in her gut. Deep breaths. She’d gotten the trick from Twilight, who had long ago taught her the value of a deep, calming breath. And she needed it now more than ever, watching herself berate Flash Sentry. She’d watched the memory three times over, standing in the corner of her apartment. She remembered the day too well—a Friday night in the middle of May, nearly two years ago. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” her younger self said, her words booming through the apartment. Sunset cringed away. If only she could have heard herself back then, heard the absolute evil in her voice. “You’re an hour late. Where were you?” Flash recoiled too. “I told you, I had band practice.” “On Thursday nights, you come here and watch TV with me. We’ve been over this.” “I know we always hang out on Thursday,” Flash said. “But Thunderbass can’t make it to practice tomorrow, so we moved it up to tonight. I texted you—” The younger Sunset stomped her foot. “I don’t care about your stupid boy band! When I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand?” Flash stared. “I just think—” “I asked you a yes-or-no question. This isn’t hard.” Flash sighed and slumped into the couch. “Yes.” “Good.” The younger Sunset smiled and sat down, wrapping an arm around her boyfriend. She flicked on the TV and cuddled up close to him. Tracing a finger in circles on his chest, she murmured, “You’re such a sweetie pie.” The fake sugar in her younger self’s voice was enough to give Sunset food poisoning. Sunset hurried out of the memory, through the open door in the middle of the room that led back into her mindscape. She closed the door and walked on. “No Marabunta in there,” she said. By now, Sunset was searching through these awful memories less to find the Marabunta, and more to satisfy her own masochism. She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t keep from opening the doors and reminding herself how how awful she’d been. The hallway went on forever. She waded through the memories with slumped shoulders, watching herself disobey Celestia, backstab her classmates, cheat to reach the top. Barely thirty doors opened, and already Sunset had to stop, leaning against a wall to grit her teeth. Through these doors sat every evil thought she’d ever had. She didn’t need to force herself to relive all that. She couldn’t. She took another long breath and stood up straight. She was acting like a whiny child—Who cares if I’ve got some regrets? Everyone has regrets. For everyone’s sake, she needed to pull herself together and keep searching. It’s been a year since I became good. These memories can’t change that. She entered another memory and found herself standing in the CHS cafeteria, one week after her “reformation.” She recognized it by the bags under her younger self’s eyes from the mornings spent rebuilding the school, and from the yellow goop splattered across her shirt. Her younger self had been eating lunch with all her new friends, chatting away, when she’d spilled applesauce all over herself—and Sunset yelped and cursed, and Rarity and Applejack helped clean it up, but Rainbow and Pinkie laughed and made jokes—Sunset clenched her teeth, her fists, but kept quiet, not wanting to make a scene—but then Fluttershy started giggling, and it sent Sunset over the edge— With bared teeth, the younger Sunset shot up and towered over Fluttershy. “Oh, ha ha, you rabbit shit-smelling freak!” —and that sent Rainbow into a frenzy, shouting and swearing right back—and the two almost got into a fight before Applejack pushed them apart—and the younger Sunset stormed off, applesauce still dripping down her skirt, while Fluttershy cried— Sunset backed out of the memory and shut it tight. The girls nearly kicked her out of the group for that. It had taken a week for Sunset to approach them again. Sunset was stressed out and sensitive back then. It didn’t take much to set her off. But she'd apologized to them, and they’d apologized to her, and everything was fine. Everything. The next door sent her backstage at the Battle of the Bands, months later, when she’d gotten into an argument with Trixie and nearly punched her out. She still remembered fantasizing about it for minutes after, wishing she could have slugged that awful smile right off Trixie’s face. And then the next door, sending her out into a half-destroyed soccer field, right in the middle of the Friendship Games. Shaking, she watched her younger self—This was only six months ago.—scream at Twilight with the same venom she’d once aimed at Flash Sentry. She watched Twilight run away, sobbing. She’d never apologized for that, had she? She’d just let it pass, assumed Twilight had forgotten about it, assumed Twilight had forgiven her. Her chest tightened as she stepped back into the hall. A year since the Fall Formal, and still she had such a stupidly short temper, still she got mad about the tiniest things. A year later, and she was still just one step away from reverting into that awful, demanding brat who just wanted to hurt everyone. She tried to take another deep breath, but couldn’t hold it. Head down, she trudged back to Rainbow Dash. Six doors later, and the most exciting memory Rainbow had found was the first time Sunset tried on a bra. Either horses had their boobs in a way different place, or Sunset had thought it was a fanny pack. Snickering, she scurried back out into the hall. Some part of her told her to stop; she knew she had no right to see Sunset’s past like this, and that small wriggle of guilt still lingered. Sunset would be pissed if she found out. But another part told her to go on. Who cared if Sunset got mad? Rainbow was searching for the monster to help Sunset, not humiliate her. And besides, Rainbow would never tell anyone about what she saw. Sunset’s secrets—most of which were pretty funny—were safe with Rainbow. Rainbow picked another door. This one opened up to the courtyard in front of Canterlot High, way early in the morning. The school’s entire entranceway was missing, ripped from the foundation, which meant that this had to be some time soon after the Fall Formal. It didn’t take long to find Sunset, kneeling in front of the entrance steps, spreading cement between concrete blocks. Rainbow ran to get a better look, but skidded to a stop when she caught Sunset’s voice. “Screw this,” Sunset spat at the ground, an awful glare stretched across her face. “Screw this, screw this, screw this. Screw everyone. Screw those stupid girls.” Rainbow stopped just behind Sunset, and recoiled when she jumped up, screamed, and threw her cement trowel across the courtyard. “Ugh, I never should have agreed to become one of the stupid good guys! I should have killed them all when I had the chance!” With bloodshot eyes, the past Sunset turned around and gazed right through Rainbow, to the horse statue in the center of the yard. “These girls think they can change me, make me one of them. They can’t. As soon as I get the chance, they’re dead.” Rainbow Dash stared, a chill racing down her back. Then came Sunset’s voice again, but this time from behind her: “What the hell, Rainbow?” She turned around just in time for Sunset—the real Sunset—to grab her by the collar and drag her out of the memory, back into the hallway. Once the door closed, Rainbow shook her off. “Hey, watch it!” “I told you not to look at anything!” Sunset said, jabbing a finger too close to Rainbow’s face. The guilt washed over Rainbow. Sputtering, she hit Sunset’s hand away. “So what, I’m not even allowed to see now? You want me to rip out my eyes?” “You’re not funny, Dash.” Sunset sneered. “I’m being serious.” “I was just—” Seeing Sunset’s glare, Rainbow looked away. “Fine, I’m sorry. I won’t do it anymore.” “That’s what you said when you looked in the book. An apology only works if you’re actually sorry.” “I’m here to help you!” Rainbow shouted, voice cracking. Who was Sunset to decide if she was really sorry or not? “Why don’t you trust me?” “Because you keep looking at stuff you’re not supposed to! Even when I tell you specifically not to!” Sunset growled and shook her head. “You’re so annoying. You never listen!” Rainbow fell back a step—then saw red. She grinned. “Oh, I’m annoying, huh? Why? Because I found out about your plan?” Sunset stared. “What?” “You know what I mean. Your plan to kill us all?” Rainbow said, forcing a laugh. Her head buzzed. She didn’t mean this, she knew Sunset would never hurt them, Rainbow just wanted to hurt her. “Maybe you brought me here just to kill me!” “No! No.” Sunset looked ready to beat Rainbow to death right there. She advanced on her. “You don’t get to turn this around on me. You always assume the worst about me, about everyone! You’re awful!” Rainbow threw out her arms and shoved Sunset. “You’re awful!” Sunset stumbled away a few steps, but then swore and shoved Rainbow right back. Mind wild, Rainbow balled up her fists and reared back. A brain-shaking roar ripped through the hallway. From the shadows, a mass of red goo, like bloody gelatin, spilled down the hall. It moved with the speed of an airliner, headed straight for the girls. Sunset gasped. “It’s the—! Crap!” “Quick!” Rainbow said, shaking Sunset’s shoulder. “Do the spell!” “Uh, um—” Sunset tapped the side of her head. “Beldurra suntsi—” The Marabunta surrounded them, climbing up the walls, flowing hot through their shoes. It let out another roar and rocketed towards Sunset. “Watch out!” Rainbow screamed, and knocked her out of the way. The monster crashed into Rainbow, crushing her against the floor. She couldn’t breathe couldn’t move couldn’t think as it enveloped her. All she felt was a thousand burning insects crawling across her skin. She flailed her arms in every direction, tearing through the Marabunta until she reached fresh air. Head now free, she took a gasping breath, found Sunset—sprawled across the floor, trembling—and managed to shout “Help!” before the goo wrapped around her face and pulled her down again. She fought for a few moments more, but couldn’t find air again. Her fists unclenched, her muscles relaxed. Dark. ThreeRainbow woke with a shuddering groan. She felt hot and sticky with sweat, like she’d been dunked in a vat of warm syrup. She threw off her blanket and stripped off her pajamas, but even that wasn’t enough to cool her off; her bedroom had become a sauna. So much for that cool Autumn weather. She turned over and smushed her face into the hot pillow (she flipped it over, but found the other side just as warm). She’d been having the weirdest dream—at least, she thought it had been weird. The harder she tried to remember, the farther it drifted from her mind, until it melted into a mess of vague emotions. She’d been angry at someone? Maybe? With sweat pooling under her, getting back to sleep seemed like an impossibility. Grumbling, she flipped onto her back again and checked her clock to see how much time she had before the alarm went off. 8:13 AM. Rainbow shrieked and fell out of bed. Late, late, late—her alarm should have gone off an hour ago. School started in twelve minutes, and CHS was halfway across town, twenty minutes away by foot. Ten if she didn’t stop at crosswalks and managed to avoid being run over. She’d already been late a dozen times that semester, and her academic career was on death’s doorstep. She ran through the calculations in her head as she zipped around her bedroom, snatching up underwear and deodorant and a shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, which she’d already worn twice that week without washing but whatever it was either be stinky or be dead, so she threw it on and sprinted out of the house. She only smacked into a wall once on the way out. The trip to school went by in seconds. By the time she made it to CHS, flying through the entrance like a rabid cheetah, she’d shouted enough curses to make a death metal band blush. Skidding on her heels, she slowed down and pulled out her phone. 8:32. That meant she’d missed homeroom and the first period bell had already rung, but if she hurried quick, she could make it to class before— “Miss Dash.” Her spine iced over. Putting on her best honor student smile, lopsided and toothy, she turned around to face Principal Celestia. “Uh,” Rainbow managed. “Hey! Happy Thursday?” Celestia grabbed her by the arm and led her through a doorway, which opened up to Celestia’s office. The two sat, and Rainbow tried to shrink into her seat but couldn’t move. “This is the fourteenth time you’ve been late,” Celestia said, folding her hands on the desk. “Your attitude about school is disappointing.” Rainbow couldn’t remember a single time she’d been late before, but the comment hurt all the same. “Sorry,” she said. She didn’t hear her own voice. “I’m starting to wonder if keeping you around is worth the effort. Everyone is.” The walls giggled and whispered. Rainbow gulped. “Yes.” “Leave,” said Celestia. So Rainbow left, covering her face to hide from all the people staring at her, gossiping from the sidelines, guessing on how Rainbow Dash had messed up this time. Everyone knew Rainbow was a screw up. She felt like she was floating outside herself, watching herself run down the hall, away from everyone who hated her. She felt scared and sad. Finally, she reached an open door, and stepped outside to find herself on the soccer field. All of her friends stood at the other end, arranged in a circle. She needed to vent to them. They would understand. But when she got close she discovered what they were all gathered around: Fluttershy’s broken birdhouse. It still had a hole in the side, the size of Rainbow’s fist. Broken wood shards lay among the blades of grass. Rainbow gasped and zoomed forward, but after four steps her foot sank deep into the ground, as if the dirt were melting gelatin. Pain shot up her joints. With her lower leg twisted hard to one side, she collapsed onto the astroturf. She breathed in fake dirt. As she writhed in the grass, the soccer field was impossibly long. She opened her mouth and cried out to her friends, who turned, stared, smiled, and walked in the opposite direction. They disappeared. Rainbow flailed, screamed. Her arms had become fifty pounds heavier—she couldn’t move them without feeling like a baseball bat was being thrust into her ribcage, stealing her breath. She stopped fighting, and tried crying. She couldn’t make any sound. “Why did you do this?” asked Fluttershy, appearing before her. The birdhouse fell apart in her hands. “Why are you so awful?” Rainbow tried to reach for Fluttershy, but stayed stuck. “You’re obnoxious,” Rarity said. “Ugly, vapid, unlikable. All you care about is yourself, and that you look good.” Twilight appeared next to her. “And stupid. Mean, too. If it wasn’t for your magic, no one would want you around. I don’t want to be friends with you.” “I don’t either,” said Pinkie. All Rainbow could do at this point was beat her own head against the ground, trying to knock herself out. “All you ever do is yell and make jokes,” Applejack said, crossing her arms. “Nobody likes them. We just laugh because we don’t want you to know how much we hate you.” Sunset stood over her. “You never think before you do anything, do you? And then, when it all blows up in your face, you just expect everybody to forgive you. Worthless.” “We don’t forgive you,” Fluttershy said. “We’re done with you.” Rainbow flailed harder, but nothing could block out the voices. Nothing could shield her from the truth: she didn’t deserve to be cared about. She didn’t deserve friends. Not someone as rude and selfish as her. She opened her eyes, and found herself back in her bedroom. Rainbow sat up with a shuddering groan. She felt hot and sticky with sweat, like she’d been dunked in a vat of warm syrup. She threw off her blanket and stripped off her pajamas, but even that wasn’t enough to cool her off; her bedroom had become a sauna. So much for that cool Autumn weather. She turned over and smushed her face into the hot pillow (she flipped it over, but found the other side just as warm). She’d been having the weirdest dream—at least, she thought it had been weird. The harder she tried to remember, the farther it drifted from her mind, until it melted into a mess of vague emotions. She’d been angry at someone? Maybe? With sweat pooling under her, getting back to sleep seemed like an impossibility. Grumbling, she flipped onto her back again and checked her clock to see how much time she had before the alarm went off. 8:13 AM. Rainbow shrieked and fell out of bed. Late, late, late—her alarm should have gone off an hour ago. School started in twelve minutes, and CHS was halfway across town, twenty minutes away by foot. Ten if she didn’t stop at crosswalks and managed to avoid being run over. She’d already been late a dozen times that semester, and her academic career was on death’s doorstep. She ran through the calculations in her head as she zipped around her bedroom, snatching up underwear and deodorant and a shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, which she’d already worn twice that week without washing but whatever it was either be stinky or be dead, so she threw it on and sprinted out of the house. She only smacked into a wall once on the way out. The trip to school went by in seconds. By the time she made it to CHS, flying through the entrance like a rabid cheetah, she’d shouted enough curses to make a death metal band blush. Skidding on her heels, she slowed down and pulled out her phone. 8:32. That meant she’d missed homeroom and the first period bell had already rung, but if she hurried quick, she could make it to class before— “Miss Dash.” Her spine iced over. Putting on her best honor student smile, lopsided and toothy, she turned around to face Principal Celestia. “Uh,” Rainbow managed. “Hey! Happy Thursday?” Celestia grabbed her by the arm. They stepped through a doorway, which opened up to Celestia’s Office. The two sat, and Rainbow tried to shrink into her seat but couldn’t move. “This is the fourteenth time you’ve been late,” Celestia said, folding her hands on the desk. “Your attitude about school is disappointing.” Rainbow couldn’t remember a single time she’d been late before, but the comment hurt all the same. “Sorry,” she said. She didn’t hear her own voice. “I’m starting to wonder if keeping you around is worth the effort. Everyone is.” The walls giggled and whispered. Rainbow gulped. “Yes.” “Leave,” said Celestia. So Rainbow left, covering her face to hide from all the people staring at her, gossiping from the sidelines, guessing on how Rainbow Dash had messed up this time. Everyone knew Rainbow was a screw up. She felt like she was floating outside herself, watching herself run down the hall, away from everyone who hated her. She felt scared and sad. Finally, she reached an open door, and stepped outside to find herself on the soccer field. All of her friends stood at the other end, arranged in a circle. She needed to vent to them. They would understand. But when she got close she discovered what they were all gathered around: Fluttershy’s broken birdhouse. It still had a hole in the side, the size of Rainbow’s fist. Broken wood shards lay among the blades of grass. Rainbow gasped and zoomed forward, but after four steps her foot sank deep into the ground, as if the dirt were melting gelatin. Pain shot up her joints. With her lower leg twisted hard to one side, she collapsed onto the astroturf. She breathed in fake dirt. As she writhed in the grass, the soccer field was impossibly long. She opened her mouth and cried out to her friends, who turned, stared, smiled, and walked in the opposite direction. They disappeared. Rainbow flailed, screamed. Her arms had become fifty pounds heavier—she couldn’t move them without feeling like a baseball bat was being thrust into her ribcage, stealing her breath. She stopped fighting, and tried crying. She couldn’t make any sound. “Why did you do this?” asked Fluttershy, appearing before her. The birdhouse fell apart in her hands. “Why are you so awful?” Rainbow tried to reach for Fluttershy, but stayed stuck. “You’re obnoxious,” Rarity said. “Ugly, vapid, unlikable. All you care about is yourself, and that you look good.” Twilight appeared next to her. “And stupid. Mean, too. If it wasn’t for your magic, no one would want you around. I don’t want to be friends with you.” “I don’t either,” said Pinkie. All Rainbow could do at this point was beat her own head against the ground, trying to knock herself out. “All you ever do is yell and make jokes,” Applejack said, crossing her arms. “Nobody likes them. We just laugh because we don’t want you to know how much we hate you.” Sunset stood over her. “You never think before you do anything, do you? And then, when it all blows up in your face, you just expect everybody to forgive you. Worthless.” “We don’t forgive you,” Fluttershy said. “We’re done with you.” Rainbow flailed harder, but nothing could block out the voices. Nothing could shield her from the truth: she didn’t deserve to be cared about. She didn’t deserve friends. Not someone as rude and selfish as her. She opened her eyes, and found herself back in her bedroom. Rainbow sat up with a shuddering groan. She felt hot and sticky with sweat, like she’d been dunked in a vat of warm syrup. She threw off her blanket and stripped off her pajamas, but even that wasn’t enough to cool her off; her bedroom had become a sauna. So much for that cool Autumn weather. She turned over and smushed her face into the hot pillow (she flipped it over, but found the other side just as warm). She’d been having the weirdest dream—at least, she thought it had been weird. The harder she tried to remember, the farther it drifted from her mind, until it melted into a mess of vague emotions. She’d been angry at someone? Maybe? With sweat pooling under her, getting back to sleep seemed like an impossibility. Grumbling, she flipped onto her back again and checked her clock to see how much time she had before the alarm went off. 8:13 AM. Rainbow shrieked and fell out of bed. Late, late, late—her alarm should have gone off an hour ago. School started in twelve minutes, and CHS was halfway across town, twenty minutes away by foot. Ten if she didn’t stop at crosswalks and managed to avoid being run over. She’d already been late a dozen times that semester, and her academic career was on death’s doorstep. She ran through the calculations in her head as she zipped around her bedroom, snatching up underwear and deodorant and a shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, which she’d already worn twice that week without washing but whatever it was either be stinky or be dead, so she threw it on and sprinted out of the house. She only smacked into a wall once on the way out. The trip to school went by in seconds. By the time she made it to CHS, flying through the entrance like a rabid cheetah, she’d shouted enough curses to make a death metal band blush. Skidding on her heels, she slowed down and pulled out her phone. 8:32. That meant she’d missed homeroom and the first period bell had already rung, but if she hurried quick, she could make it to class before— “Let go of her!” Warmth filled Rainbow’s head, then flowed out of her ears. Letting out an awful, wet-lunged cough, she rolled onto her back. She lay in an empty white chamber, resting in Sunset’s arms. Above them hung the Marabunta, crawling across the ceiling, its various chunks forming into one moist mass. Rainbow took gulping breaths. “Sunset,” she said. Her face, soaked with tears, felt like mush. “Why—” Sunset hauled her up onto two feet. “Less talking, more running!” She sprinted off, pulling Rainbow behind her like a ragdoll. They headed for a nearby hallway. Rainbow stumbled along, tripping over her own feet, everything going blurry around her. The low rumble of the Marabunta’s growl still shook the ground. She could only keep running for about a minute before her legs gave out and she collapsed, nearly pulling Sunset down with her. Sunset cursed and skidded to a halt. “C’mon, Dash,” she said, “we’ve gotta get ready for the Marabunta to come back.” Rainbow tried to take a deep breath, but choked on the air. “Why did you save me?” “What do you mean, why?” Sunset knelt down. “You’re my friend! I wasn’t just gonna let the Marabunta kill you!” “But, but—” Rainbow shook her head. “But you should hate me! Worthless, you said! I’m stupid, and vapid, and unlikable. I looked at all your secrets, and hurt Fluttershy, and—” “Dash.” Grabbing hold of Rainbow’s shoulders, Sunset looked her in the eye and smiled. “You are annoying as hell sometimes, but you are not worthless, and I’m not leaving you behind to get tortured by some dream demon. I brought you here, and I’m getting you out.” Rainbow bit down hard on her lip, taking in a deep breath to dry up her tears. She pulled herself back up to her feet. The Marabunta roared, finally back into one gargantuan blob. It slid across the ceiling, swarming above them. Sunset glared up at it, feet planted firm. “Let’s end this.” She lifted her arms and thrust her palms out towards the monster. “Beldurra suntsituko da!” A silent moment passed. The Marabunta kept hanging. Sunset stepped back. “It didn’t work—” The Marabunta swooped down and grabbed Sunset, slamming her into a wall. Rainbow shouted and beat her fists against it as it passed, but her hands just sunk into the goo. “Rainbow, run!” Sunset shouted as the Marabunta crept up her body. She craned her neck to keep out of its reach. “This thing is too strong! Go get the girls, Princess Twilight, anyone—” The Marabunta forced itself into Sunset’s ears with a slick gurgle. A swimming pool of red goo slipped into Sunset’s head, earning a scream from the helpless girl. Within seconds, the Marabunta had disappeared into its new home, leaving Sunset to collapse like a broken doll against the wall. Rainbow froze for a few seconds, cold terror planting her to the ground. Then, shrieking Sunset’s name, she zoomed over to the carcass and rolled her over onto her back. She wasn’t breathing. “Oh my god, oh my god,” Rainbow sputtered. Sunset’s eyes stayed open, but she just stared forward, not blinking. Behind the whites of her eyes, Rainbow could see slithering red tendrils, mixed in with the bloodshot veins. “Let her go!” Rainbow beat her fists against the ground by Sunset’s ear, as if trying to scare away a cat. “Get out of her head!” Sunset had managed to free Rainbow. Why couldn’t Rainbow do the same? It’s not my head. I can’t do anything. Rainbow closed her eyes and rested her head on Sunset’s chest. Slow pulse, shallow breath, like she were asleep in bed. Minutes passed in silence. Rainbow stewed in the quiet, thinking over her nightmare—thinking about all she ever did was annoy people, and hurt them. She’d doomed Sunset now too, getting captured and needing to be saved. Another in a lifetime of screwups. But Sunset had been a screwup once too, right? Rainbow saw it firsthand. And yet Sunset got better. She became good. Why couldn’t Rainbow become good too? Sunset saved me. I’m not giving up on her—or myself. She could feel a familiar burn in the pit of her stomach, repressed tears spilling out. Rainbow panted for breath. All her thoughts, all her emotions launched into overdrive. She let out a shout, and blue light surrounded her. Wings shot out from her back, and her hair grew to twice its length. Touching the geode on Sunset’s chest, she focused her magic into the amulet until it glowed. She’d never used Sunset’s powers before, but she just sparked her energy in the same way she did to use super speed—and her head began to pound and the empty room around her melted away. The courtyard of Canterlot High appeared before her, dotted with flames and piles of rubble. Half the school had been torn away, blasted into dust. Bodies lay strewn across the sidewalks. And above it all flew Sunset, her skin and body twisted into its horrific demon form. She circled like a buzzard above the bodies of all her friends, Rainbow included. “Why?” Rarity asked. “Why would you do this?” All she received in response was a stream of burning energy, centered right on her stomach. She screamed. Among the bodies, Twilight—on her knees, trembling—looked up at Sunset. “Everyone forgave you,” she said. “I loved you.” Sunset laughed. “You made a mistake.” She blasted Twilight with magic, slamming her into the pavement until she stopped moving. “Loving me—you tied your own noose.” Twilight didn’t respond. She just stared, face blank. “You all did!” Sunset shrieked, still giggling. “You never should have trusted me. All I’ve ever wanted is power! I could never stay good!” Rainbow watched as the she-demon swooped through the sky, torturing all who remained, until she heard muted sobbing from somewhere in the distance. She ran over to find Sunset—the normal, teenaged Sunset—kneeling by the horse statue, head in her hands, crying. “Stop,” she said, barely audible above the moans of her friends. “Stop, please. I don’t want this. I don’t...” Rainbow shook her shoulders. “Sunset, wake up! Sunset!” Sunset looked up, her face damp and a patchy red. Her eyes were glazed over. “Rainbow?” She looked over to her dreamt-up friends. “But you’re—” “This isn’t real! None of this is real!” Rainbow said. “It’s just the Marabunta playing a trick on you, just like it did with me.” “It’s not...?” Sunset blinked a few times, and the life slowly returned to her eyes. But it soon disappeared, drowned out by another heaving sob. “But it’s true. I’m a monster! You can’t trust me.” “C’mon, that’s not—” “For months after the Fall Formal, all I thought about was betraying you all. I hated you!” Sunset said. “You forgave me, and all I wanted was my power. It’s been so long now, but what if I fail? What if I go back to being evil? I’ll just hurt you, and everyone, and Twilight, oh goddess, Twilight. Even now, I’m so impatient, I’m so angry, I’m so—” “Do you know who holds the record for most scored goals in a single CHS soccer game?” Sunset sniffled. “Uh. You?” “Yeah!” Rainbow said, nodding fast. “But do you know who held the record before me?” “No? What are you—” “Exactly!” Rainbow pumped her fist. “Everyone knows about me. But no one remembers the guy who used to hold the record. It’s just like how no one cares about how evil you used to be!” An array of emotions passed over Sunset’s face. “Rainbow, that simile made absolutely no sense.” “What the heck is a simile? I was trying to make a metaphor,” Rainbow muttered. She growled and waved her hands in front of her face. “Whatever! I’m not good at saying what I mean, okay? But what I’m trying to tell you is that you’re not the same person you used to be. You’re so much better!” Sunset scowled. “Says who?” “Says me, and Twilight, and, like, everyone at CHS!” Rainbow said. “We all care about you. And we love you for who you are now, not what you were a year ago. You used to be awful, but you changed, and now you’re smart, and funny, and nicer than pretty much anyone I’ve ever met. And honestly? You’re one of my best friends.” Before Sunset could respond, Rainbow pulled her into a hug, locking her arms around Sunset as tight as she could. Her eyes had started to sting; she shut them tight and buried her face in Sunset’s shoulder. It took a moment, but soon Sunset shook and did the same. The sounds of the demon’s mayhem faded out, replaced by the hum of Sunset’s magic. A fiery warmth beat against Rainbow’s skin, and Sunset transformed into her Ponied Up form. The two moved apart, wiping their eyes. “Don’t tell anyone how sappy I just got,” Rainbow said. “Of course.” Holding hands, they stood up. With a shared grin, they raised their free arms into the air and focused their magic. White light surrounded them, and Canterlot High disappeared. Rainbow’s body jerked back as she left the Marabunta’s vision and reentered her body—her body still inside of Sunset’s mind, at least. On the ground, Sunset gasped and shot up. The Marabunta, all one-million gallons of it, spilled out of Sunset’s head and onto the floor. Growling, it reared back, splashing across the walls. The girls stood together, bodies pulsing with magic, and glared at the monster as it reformed for another attack. They weren’t going to give it the chance. As one, they rose into the air. “You can’t hurt us anymore,” Sunset said. “Our friendship is strong enough to overcome any fear!” The Marabunta roared and shot towards them. Sunset placed one hand on her amulet, and the other out in front of her. “Beldurra suntsituko da!” A beam of purple energy shot from the two girls and hit the Marabunta dead in the center. It let out a gargling screech as its goo bubbled like hot tar, then swelled, then exploded. Waves of red juice flooded the room, spilling over Sunset and Rainbow. The two kept holding hands, even as Sunset snapped her fingers, and everything melted into a purple vortex— Rainbow gasped as she landed in her real, completely alive body, back in Sunset’s apartment. Windmilling her arms, she fell back and banged her skull against Sunset’s headboard, adding to her already pounding migraine. “Aaugh, crap!” Sunset fell back too, collapsing into her sheets. She groaned, rubbing at her eyes. A gasp came from the floor below them. “Are you two alright?” Fluttershy asked, standing by Sunset’s mirror and... wearing all of Sunset’s clothes. “Did you get rid of the monster?” “Yeah we did!” Rainbow cheered. She looked at Sunset. “We did, right?” “I feel like someone dropped a bowling ball on my head, which is at least a sign that we did something.” Sunset sat up and touched her geode. “Let me try accessing an old memory. If the Marabunta is still there, I’ll be able to feel it.” She closed her eyes. Heavy seconds passed. Rainbow gulped. “Well?” Sunset edged open her eyes. “I can’t feel anything,” she said. A smile broke out on her face and she threw up her hands. “I can’t feel anything! Rainbow, we did it!” Rainbow laughed and pulled Sunset into a hug. The two of them whooped and hollered, even in spite of their mutual magic hangovers. As the two of them descended the stairs from Sunset’s loft, Fluttershy clapped. “Yay!” “Yay is right. You wouldn’t believe what Rainbow and I—” Sunset looked at Fluttershy, scanning her up and down. “Uh. ‘Shy. Why are you wearing my jacket? And my shirt? And skirt? And boots?” Fluttershy glanced down at the oversized clothes hanging off of her, then up at Sunset. She frowned. “You didn’t leave me the WiFi password.” Sunset furrowed her brows for a moment, but then shrugged. “That’s fair. Hey, who wants pizza?” “Me!” Rainbow said, raising her hand. “I feel like I could eat a horse after that! Uh, no offense.” “I should probably change back into my own clothes,” Fluttershy said, blushing. She walked to the closet, but before stepping inside, stopped and smiled at the others. “I’m glad you two got back safe. I don’t know what I would do without two of my best friends.” She disappeared into the closet. Silence claimed the room. While Sunset took her phone from the coffee table, Rainbow fidgeted in place, staring at Sunset wistfully and thinking of all the things that still needed to be said. But she kept quiet. Author's Note now another year to the next chapter FourAuthor's Note lol Four “I thought we had a deal,” Twilight yelled over the pounding dance music. She’d crossed her arms and put on a pout. “You don’t get to fight menacing magical monsters without me!” “Monster, technically—there was only one,” said Sunset with a big smile. When Twilight’s glare just grew sharper, Sunset took her hand. “I should have brought you, I know! But I could barely stand having one person in my brain. Any more, and my head might have popped.” Twilight pulled away. “You could have at least told me what was going on. What if your plan hadn’t worked, and the Marabunta killed you? What would I do then?” She gestured to the Fall Formal going on around them. “They’d be holding a funeral instead of a dance!” Sunset groaned and looked around. She hadn’t mustered the courage to tell Twilight about her mind-adventure until they’d arrived at the Fall Formal—on Sunday, two days after the fact. Arguing with your girlfriend was already stressful, and the strobe lights and thumping music of a high school dance didn’t help. Now, Twilight and Sunset sat on the bleachers in the corner, close together but feeling miles apart. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Twilight asked, hugging herself tighter. “I’m sorry. I wanted to, I just—” Sunset stared at her lap, twiddling her thumbs. “I didn’t want to tell you about how awful I used to be.” Twilight raised a brow, but wouldn’t look at her. “What do you mean, ‘awful?’” “What kind of person casts a spell to create a monster whose only purpose is to hurt people? An awful person.” Sunset nodded at the gym’s opposite wall, where none of the brickwork seemed to match. “It’s only been a year since everyone saw me go crazy and destroy the school. Everyone but you. I don’t want you to ever see that part of me.” “That was a year ago. The mistakes you’ve made are in the past.” “The Marabunta wasn’t. That’s a mistake I was still paying for in the present. I’ve caused a lot of problems for people, Twi.” “Maybe you have.” This time, Twilight grabbed Sunset’s hand. “But we all cause problems sometimes! What’s important is that you try to fix the problem! And it sounds like that’s what you did.” Sunset chuckled softly. “Yeah. It seems like I fix those sorts of problems a lot.” “You don’t have to fix them alone.” Twilight tightened her grip. “I don’t care about what you used to be. I care about what you are — and I just want to see you safe.” Their eyes met, and they shared a smile. Then with both arms, Sunset pulled Twilight into a hug. Sunset buried her face into Twilight’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for not telling you what was going on. It was really stupid of me.” “Yes, it was.” Twilight laughed and rubbed Sunset’s back. “But you look lovely tonight, so I’ll forgive you.” The two pulled away—then Twilight’s eyes sharpened back into a glare. She poked a finger into Sunset’s chest. “That said, next time you shrink down in size to explore the inner machinations of someone’s psyche, I come along.” Sunset giggled. “Sure.” The music lulled, and from a few feet away came a new voice. “Okay, she’s smiling. I don’t think Twilight dumped her.” Twilight and Sunset looked up to find Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy heading towards them. Rainbow waved. “Are you two done arguing, or should we try again later?” “Nah, we’re done,” Sunset said. She flicked a glance at Twilight. “We are done, right?” “For now,” Twilight said with a smirk. She turned to Rainbow and Fluttershy. “Hey, you two. Thanks for helping Sunset out.” Fluttershy gasped. “Oh, Sunset told you? And you’re not mad?” “I’m still a bit peeved that you didn’t take me along to study this rare creature,” Twilight said, “but I understand.” “That’s good,” Rainbow said, rubbing the back of her head. “I’ve had a lot of friends mad at me lately. It’s not fun.” “No, it’s not,” Sunset murmured. She and Rainbow locked eyes for just a moment, but it felt like a whole conversation. It turned out that letting someone pick your brain—literally—did wonders for strengthening a relationship. Speaking of which... Sunset took her girlfriend’s hand again. “Uh, Twi... would you mind if Rainbow and I talked for a sec?” Twilight raised a brow. “Excluding me again, I see.” “No, no, it’s just—” “I’m kidding.” Twilight stood up and stretched. “Besides, if I’m seeing right, I just saw Pinkie Pie get her head stuck in the lemonade pitcher. I’ll be back—no magic while I’m gone.” Sunset held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.” Twilight scoffed. “There is no way you were a Girl Scout.” “You’re right—I was a Filly Scout,” said Sunset with a nod. “They have those?” Fluttershy asked, eyes widening. Twilight rolled her eyes, but snickered as she walked away. That left Rainbow and Fluttershy to sit down next to Sunset. Rainbow knocked her knees together like a nervous tic, and she seemed to look everywhere but Sunset’s face. After a too long silence, Sunset tried, “So, how have you been—” “I’m sorry. Again.” Rainbow knocked her knees faster. “I went into your thoughts when I shouldn’t have, and nearly got us killed. It was wrong, it sucked so hard, and I’m sorry. I mean that.” “Oh.” Sunset blinked. “Thanks.” “I know I always say sorry, and I never change.” Rainbow bit her lip. “I just assume that everyone will forgive me, and I don’t care. So I’m sorry for all the times I’ve said something stupid, or knocked into you, or teased you, or—” Sunset held up her hands. “Rainbow, stop!” Rainbow moved her mouth wordlessly for a few seconds, then stopped and looked to Sunset. “I accept your apology. But it’s not true that you don’t care—of course you care! You came into my head to help me confront my demons, you pushed me out of the way of the Marabunta. Fluttershy even told me about how you helped her fix her birdhouse!” Fluttershy smiled. “It has lightning bolts on it now.” “But I was the one who broke it in the first place!” Rainbow yelped. “All I do is cause problems.” Sunset sighed. “It’s true, you can be reckless and impulsive. And there’s stuff you can improve on, sure.” She laid a hand on Rainbow’s shoulder. “But don’t start hating yourself. You don’t need to become some perfect person. Admit your flaws, but don’t start hating yourself, hating everything you’ve ever done. That’s how you end up like me, lying to everyone about your feelings because you’re scared they won’t like you.” Rainbow opened her mouth like she was about to argue, but instead just nodded. “So let’s try this again,” said Sunset. “Without the self-hatred.” Rainbow took in a deep breath. “I need to be more considerate, I guess. I need to slow down, start thinking before I speak or act. It’ll probably keep me out of a lot of trouble.” “That’s better.” “But is that it?” said Rainbow, turning to Sunset. “I screwed up. I want to make it up to you!” “Well...” Sunset paused to think. Then, in a low voice, she said, “I always say that I’ve moved on from my past, but it still controls me. I’m so scared of repeating my mistakes that I close people off, lie to them, just so I never let them down. But that’s a mistake. People are close to me because they like me, not some paragon of perfection.” Sunset took Rainbow’s hand in hers. “You showed me that. You and the girls forgave me for all the bad things I did, all the evil I had in me. I need to start loving myself like you all love me.” Rainbow frowned. “Okay, but what does that have to do with me?” “Someone once told me that what matters the most is that you try to fix the problems you’ve caused.” Sunset grinned. “You wanna make things up to me? How about this: You try to be more considerate, and I’ll try to stop being so ashamed of my past. Deal?” “That’s it? I thought I was gonna have to do your homework or something,” Rainbow said. But she still shook hands with Sunset. “Deal.” Fluttershy let out a long, shuddering breath. “Oh, thank goodness you two made up. I can’t handle all this interpersonal drama!” Sunset and Rainbow shared a giggle—until Sunset glanced over at the opposite end of the gym, and her face went white. “Oh, crap, now Twilight’s stuck in the pitcher too. Be right back!” She jumped up and sprinted away. Rainbow watched her go, beaming. “So.” Fluttershy tapped her chin. “How do you feel?” “How do I feel? I got friendship advice from Sunset Shimmer! That’s enough to make you a Princess in some places!” Rainbow threw her arms out wide. “I’m a new woman!” She froze, however, when Fluttershy caught her left hand—just an inch away from smacking Fluttershy in the eye. Rainbow cringed away. “Oh, uh... sorry.” Fluttershy sighed. “It’s alright.” “Damn.” Rainbow scratched her head. “This is gonna take longer than I thought.”
OneEvery Friday, Rainbow Dash spent fifth period the same way. First, she walked to her locker. Then, she saved the world from aliens. Fingers moving at superspeed, Rainbow entered in her lock combination and tore her locker open. “Forty-five minutes on the clock,” she murmured in her deep Announcer Voice. “The contract’s been signed. If Captain Rainbow Dash scores twenty half-field goals before time runs out, the aliens leave Earth forever. If she fails, they steal all our babies.” This one’s for you, babies. She pulled out her soccer ball, slammed the locker shut again, and zoomed down the hallway. If she hurried – and when did she not? – she could make it to the soccer field within thirty seconds, and make her first goal before the late bell even rang. She zipped through the nearly empty halls, burning her rubber soles until she rounded a corner and saw the double doors leading outside— —and also Roseluck, walking in the middle of the hall and carrying a box big enough to block her vision. Rainbow slammed both her feet down flat. “Watch out!” Arms outstretched, she smashed into Roseluck, knocking them both to the floor. Sprawled across the linoleum, Rainbow groaned. Then, rubbing her head, she sat up and chuckled. “Sorry, Rosey. You okay?” In front of her, Roseluck crawled across the ground to her cardboard box. The crash had sent it flying, spilling its contents all across the hall. “Ugh, Rainbow!” she said, stuffing bags of balloons, streamers, and confetti back inside. “Can’t you ever watch where you’re going? These Fall Formal decorations need to be delivered, like, yesterday!” “I was watching!” Rainbow said. She shrugged. “I just, uh, couldn’t slow down in time. You know how it is. Magic superpowers and all?” “Hmph. You and that magic are always—oh, goddess above!” Roseluck scrambled over to the other side of hall and picked up a crown of roses. Half the flowers had been dented and crushed. “This was supposed to be the centerpiece of the Fall Formal wreath. And you smashed it!” Rainbow cringed. “Crap. Sorry.” Roseluck glared. “These roses took a whole season to grow. They’re from my mother’s private garden!” “Yeah, okay?” Rainbow felt both her chest and face go hot. “I said I’m sorry. What more do you want?” Looking away, back down to the crooked ring of flowers, Roseluck snorted. “I want some less obnoxious classmates, for one.” Rainbow blinked—then scowled. “I’m obnoxious? You’re a—” A third voice cut in: “Buzz off, Rose.” Rainbow held down her curses and looked up. Sunset Shimmer appeared, one hand on hip, narrowed eyes locked on Roseluck’s throat. “Buzz off?” Roseluck repeated. She held out the flower crown. “She’s the one who ruined it! These flowers—” “You can buy more at the corner store right down the block,” Sunset said. “Now why don’t you leave us alone?” “At the corner—” Roseluck clenched her fists. Grumbling, she picked up her cardboard box and stomped off. Rainbow watched her go with a smile. Sunset offered her hand. “You planning on sitting around all day?” Rainbow had gotten so caught up in arguing that she’d completely forgotten she was still on the ground. She took Sunset’s hand and laughed as she stood. “Hell yeah! You totally showed her.” “I did, didn’t I?” Chewing her lip, Sunset gazed off in the direction Roseluck had gone. “Goddess, that really was mean, wasn’t it? She probably worked super hard on those flowers, and I just went right back into Bully Mode. I should go apologize.” “No way!” Rainbow said. “She was being a total jerk. I apologized to her and everything, and she still yelled at me!” “To be fair, you did basically run her over. I heard the crash from two halls away.” “Yeah, but—whatever.” Rainbow blew a raspberry, but then elbowed Sunset in the side. “Hey, that reminds me: happy anniversary.” Stifling a yawn, Sunset raised a brow. “For what?” Rainbow gestured to a banner that hung across the hall in front of them: “Fall Formal! CHS Gymnasium, this Saturday!” “Oh.” Sunset sighed. “One year since I went crazy and almost killed everyone.” “Aw, don’t look at it like that,” Rainbow said, grinning. “You went crazy, yeah, but you got better. Tomorrow, it’ll be one year since we became friends! And you’re already, like, the goodest good guy ever. It’s awesome!” Sunset shook her head, but smiled. “I dunno if I’d say that, but thanks.” “So, you gonna celebrate?” Rainbow leaned in. “Maybe bring Twilight over for a Sexy Former Demon Party after the dance?” The smile disappeared. “Way to ruin the moment.” “Hey, you brought up the demon thing first.” “No, we’re not having a ‘Demon Party.’” Sunset shrank a bit. “I appreciate Pinkie’s enthusiasm, but I don’t wanna make a big deal out of what happened last year. Twi wasn’t around then. She doesn’t know how bad I got.” “You didn't tell her what happened?” “I did! Kinda,” Sunset said. “I mean, she knows about the whole demon thing, and she knows how you girls took me down. But she doesn't know that all of that was my own fault. Or about my plan to conquer Equestria.” She gave Rainbow a weak smile. “I’ve been meaning to tell her. But it’s like you said—I’m good now, so it’s not important. Right?” “I guess.” Rainbow shrugged. “I’m just saying, you better tell her someday, or someone else will beat you to it.” Sunset’s face hardened. “You better not.” Rainbow shielded herself with her hands. “Hey, I never said me! I’m the best secret keeper ever.” “Sure you are,” said Sunset, settling back down. Rainbow took a breath, clearing out her annoyance. “I’m headed out to the field,” she said, jerking her head behind her. “Wanna come be my goalie? I’ll go easy on you.” “No thanks,” Sunset said, yawning again. “I’m headed to the library to take a nap. I’ve got the next two periods free, and I’m gonna conk right out.” For the first time since they’d met up, Rainbow took a good look at Sunset, and winced at the result. Frizzled and knotted hair, crooked mascara, inside-out t-shirt—Sunset looked like she’d spent the last week in a blender, being twisted up and thrown back out. She stared at Rainbow with baggy, glazed-over eyes. “Are you okay?” Rainbow asked. “Did you get mugged or something?” “What? No, of course not.” Sunset waved her off. “I just didn’t get much sleep.” Rainbow looked at Sunset’s neck, from where her magical geode usually hung, tucked beneath her shirt—and realized it was missing. “Are you sure? Where’s your amulet?” Sunset glanced down, then shot Rainbow a raised-brow smirk. “Taking a good look at my boobs, yeah?” Rainbow placed a hand on her heart and sent back a smirk of her own. “Let’s just say I’ve got an eye for detail. Now seriously, what’s up?” “It’s nothing! I’m just... not wearing my geode anymore.” Sunset touched the empty space below her neck, but shook her head. “Don’t worry, it’s pony stuff.” “So? I’ve got the wings, the weird ears; I’m basically half-pony.” Rainbow grabbed Sunset’s shoulder. “C’mon. If it’s bothering you, I wanna know what it is.” Sunset pursed her lips—then shrugged. “I guess you deserve to find out. Friends don’t keep secrets, right?” Rainbow remembered the stash of King Size chocolate bars she kept hidden under her bed. “Yep,” she said. “Secrets suck.” Crossing her arms, Sunset leaned against a nearby locker. “When I was in Equestria, studying with the Princess, I was a really bad kid. I’d bully other students, stay out until who knows how late. I broke every rule I could, because I thought it made me independent. And y’know, unicorn magic is great and all, but there are still spells you’re never supposed to learn. Never supposed to cast.” She looked to Rainbow. “I cast one of them.” “What was it?” Rainbow thought about all the weird and fantastical magic Sunset had told her about over the months—spells to breathe fire, to move the sun, to grow wings and fly. Just how bad did a spell have to be to get banned? “What did it do?” “I put a monster inside of my own head,” Sunset said. She tapped her skull. “It’s called the Marabunta, and it was meant to keep other unicorns from invading your thoughts. If it captures an intruder, it takes the form of their deepest fear and tortures them until they lose their mind.” She growled and turned away. “It’s not like I was ever at any risk of being interrogated. I just wanted to be edgy...” “You should’ve just worn all black and gotten a tattoo. That’s what Fluttershy did.” Rainbow craned her neck to look into Sunset’s eyes, trying to find a gargoyle behind her pupils. Sunset pushed her away. “So, what? Is it trying to get out of your head?” “No, and that’s the problem!” Sunset touched the empty space below her neck again. “I’ve gotten so good with my memory powers—my mind-reading powers—that whenever I even wear my geode, the Marabunta starts freaking out. It scrambles my thoughts, gives me awful nightmares... It’s like it thinks I’m invading my own mind.” “You put it there, can’t you get rid of it?” Rainbow asked, throwing out her hands. “I’ve read Daring Do. Whenever she gets hit by some ancient spell, there’s always a counterspell to get rid of it. Just get one of those!” “It’s not that easy,” Sunset said. “There probably is a counter, yeah, but I’d have to cast it on the Marabunta myself, which would mean going inside my mind alone to confront it. What if it takes me before I can kill it? I’m lost forever!” She growled. “I don’t know what else I can do but stop wearing the geode. I really screwed myself over on this one.” Rainbow looked away—and then turned right back. “I could go with you.” “What?” Sunset’s eyes narrowed. “How?” “You step into other people’s minds all the time,” Rainbow said. “So, what’s stopping you from bringing someone into your mind?” Sunset stared. Then, scratched her head. “That’s not a bad idea. I mean, I dunno if it would work, but we could try.” “Yeah!” Rainbow pumped her fist. “I’ll grab the girls, then we’ll go into your head with you and hold down the Maribelle while you blast it!” “I don’t think I could handle having that many people in my brain at once,” Sunset said, touching her head. “Channeling too hard into just one person’s thoughts gives me a migraine as is.” “Fine. The two of us can go by ourselves, then.” “It might be dangerous,” Sunset said. “Are you sure you want to try this? If you get caught by the Marabunta, it’ll try to drive you insane with your deepest fear. Can you handle that?” Rainbow scoffed. “I don’t have a deepest fear. I’m not scared of anything!” Sunset’s wary gaze lingered for a moment, but she soon nodded. “Alright. Next period, I’ll grab my journal and ask Princess Twilight if she can find a book with the countercurse. Assuming she does, why don’t we meet at my place after school?” “Fine by me,” Rainbow said. “You need me to bring anything?” Sunset tapped her chin. “Yeah, actually. I think we should have a third person with us, to look after our bodies while we’re in my head. We’re gonna basically be comatose; what happens if the apartment burns down? It won’t matter if we kill the Marabunta or not if we get barbequed.” “Have anyone in mind?” “It’s gotta be someone responsible,” said Sunset. “Someone who’s quick-thinking, and can help if something goes way wrong and the Marabunta escapes my head.” Rainbow smiled. “I think I know just the girl.” Fluttershy twiddled her thumbs. “If the building does burn down, chances are I’m only strong enough to carry one of you.” “Eh.” Rainbow shrugged. “It’s Sunset’s apartment. Let her go down with the ship.” Sitting together in the back of their Woodshop class, Fluttershy put the finishing touches on a two-story birdhouse, outfitted with its own balcony and bird bedroom, while Rainbow Dash just tinkered with a doorstop. “So Sunset has a... monster in her brain?” Fluttershy asked. “That sounds scary. How are you going to fight it?” “Of course it’s scary, that’s what makes it so cool! Sunset’s gonna get her counterspell, then we’re gonna go in her head and kick some Macaroni butt!” Laughing, Rainbow picked up her hammer and swung it out like a sword, making Fluttershy scoot back. “She’ll hold it down, then I’ll rush in there like zip, zoom, zap—and then it’ll be like ‘Oh nooooo!’ but I’ll be like in your face!” Eyes closed, Rainbow thrust out her hammer, hit something solid, and heard a sharp cracking sound. The entire class stalled. Going stiff, Rainbow turned her head, and found her hammer stuck through the side of Fluttershy’s birdhouse. Fluttershy covered her mouth. “Crap, crap!” Rainbow said. She pulled out her hammer, tearing off another chunk of wood. “I didn’t mean to do that!” Fluttershy stared at the broken foundation of her birdhouse with wide eyes. “I spent a week on that,” she said. She took a quivering breath. “It was supposed to be a present for all my bluejay friends.” A murmur rose from the class behind them. Throat drying up, Rainbow leaned into Fluttershy and hissed, “I’m sorry! I swear, it was just an accident—” Rainbow saw a single tear forming at the edge of Fluttershy’s eye, and terror gripped her chest. “Miss Dash!” The temptation to superspeed out the window fell over Rainbow. Gritting her teeth, she turned around to face Mr. Doodle. “How many times do I have to tell you?” Mr. Doodle yelled, stomping up to their workbench. “No playing with the tools! This is the third time this semester that your inconsiderate recklessness has ruined someone else’s work!” “It’s not ruined.” Rainbow glanced back at the birdhouse, and found that half of the second floor had caved in. Her eyes fell to her shoes. “Sorry.” “Yes, yes, you’re always sorry.” Mr. Doodle scowled. “Sorry isn’t a magic word, you know. It doesn’t just make everything okay! There’s gonna come a day when just apologizing isn’t gonna cut it anymore!” Rainbow took the scolding like a newspaper to a dog’s head. She studied her shoelaces. “Yeah.” The class hung around them, silent, staring—until Mr. Doodle stomped his foot and made everyone jump. “What is everybody gawking at? We’ve still got twenty minutes left, people! Get to work!” While the room kicked into normal gear, Rainbow turned back to her desk and slumped across it. “I hate this class.” She looked to Fluttershy. “I’m not reckless, am I?” Fluttershy, picking chunks of splintered wood out from her birdhouse, sniffled. After a too-long pause, she said, “No. Of course not.” Rainbow stared for a moment, hands clenched. Then she sighed and grabbed a glue-gun. “Here, lemme help.” “So, tomorrow.” Sunset moved close to Twilight and grinned. “Am I finally gonna get to see you dance or what?” “I don’t think so,” said Twilight, giggling. “After the Crystal Prep Freshman Ball, I made a vow to never dance again. Count yourself lucky: this way, you won’t have to fetch the nurse when I fall on my face.” “You can’t hide forever. One of these days, I’m gonna see you shake that cute little butt of yours.” Cheeks pink, Twilight rolled her eyes. “In your dreams.” Sunset held down a yawn. “I wish.” The two of them walked this path home most days, cutting through the woods behind CHS to get downtown faster. The two only shared one class, so sometimes this was the most time they spent together all day. “By the way,” said Twilight, “Pinkie Pie wanted to see you. She—” “I know,” Sunset said with a groan. “I already bumped into her. She wants to throw this big party for me after the Formal to celebrate my ‘anniversary,’ and wants me to give a speech or something.” “Ooh.” Twilight smiled. “You’re good at making speeches.” Sunset snorted. “I just wish people would stop reminding me.” “It’s a big occasion, isn’t it?” Twilight asked. “Even if your last Fall Formal wasn’t the best, that’s no reason to keep sulking.” “It’s dumb!” Sunset said, throwing up a hand. “It’s like celebrating a serial killer going on a rampage! Police might’ve taken them down afterwards, but a whole bunch of people still got hurt.” “Don’t say that.” Twilight frowned. “You are not a killer. You’re a girl—a very cute girl, in fact. Even if your shirt is inside-out today.” “Some people still look at me funny, like I’m about to grow claws again and tear their throat out. Trixie asks me to teach her demon magic at least once a month.” “You shouldn’t pay attention to them,” Twilight said. She squeezed Sunset’s hand. “All that matters is that you’re trying your best to do good. Are you trying your best?” Probably not. “I think so.” “Good!” Twilight nodded. “Keep doing that, and you’ll keep being amazing.” Sunset couldn’t have hid her grin, even if she wanted to. “Goddess, you are so cheesy.” “I’m the cheesy one? You spend Calc class drawing pictures of us fighting monsters together.” Twilight offered Sunset a tiny smile. “All your friends have forgiven you. Pinkie just wants to make you happy, in her own silly way.” “I know.” That’s not the problem. They stumbled out of the forest, exiting onto a forked intersection. One road led deeper into the city to pass by Sunset’s apartment, while the other led to the quieter residential areas where Twilight lived. “Speaking of calculus—do you wanna come over and start the integration problems Miss Cheerilee assigned?” Twilight asked, voice cracking in excitement. “We could probably finish in twenty minutes if we worked together! That’d leave us time to do—y’know. Other stuff.” A primal heat filled Sunset’s body. She grinned and opened her mouth to accept, but then remembered the bare space above her chest. “Sorry,” she said, “but I can’t. Rainbow is coming over to help me with... something. A project.” “Rainbow?” Twilight tilted her head. “You two don’t have any classes together, do you?” The truth nipped at Sunset’s gums, trying to wiggle its way out of her mouth. But she swallowed it back down. What was she meant to say? That she’d broken at least five magic safety laws and created a monster? That said monster now lived in her skull, and was tearing her mind apart from the inside? I told Rainbow. Why can’t I tell Twilight? The grin Twilight wore when she called Sunset “amazing” stuck in Sunset’s head like the most beautiful painting. She couldn’t taint it. “No, actually, I’m the one helping her,” Sunset said. Old instincts flaring back to life, she put on her practiced fake smile. “She needs to study for her Precalc test, and asked me to tutor her.” “She asked for help?” Twilight gaped. “Is she sick or something?” Sunset rubbed the back of her head. “I dunno. I guess she just really wants to pass this test.” Twilight pursed her lips, and the cold fear that she’d see through the lie crept over Sunset—until Twilight shrugged. “Well, okay. I suppose it is for a good cause. And who better to teach Dash than the Calculus Master?” Sunset chuckled. “I’m glad you finally admit the truth.” “Don’t get a big head.” Twilight turned around and walked off in the direction of her house. Waving, she called back, “Good luck with Rainbow! See you at the Fall Formal tomorrow!” Sunset returned the wave limply, guilt weighing on her. But with a deep breath, she pushed the bad feelings to the back of her mind. She doesn’t need to know. I’ve changed—all the bad stuff is in the past. As the sky outside grew dark, Sunset leafed through her journal, Fluttershy chatted with Sunset’s pet gecko Ray, and Rainbow lounged on the couch. For the fifth time since she’d arrived at Sunset’s apartment, Rainbow hesitantly laid her head down on the cushions and sniffed. “Has anyone ever told you your couch smells like strawberries?” In her loft bed, Sunset went rigid. “Uhm,” she said, looking away. “No. No one’s told me that.” “Ooh, strawberries are nice,” said Fluttershy. She smiled. “Speaking of, has Twilight told either of you about that new strawberry shampoo she’s been using? She makes it sound so luxurious.” Rainbow grinned. “Sounds like she’s been giving Sunset some free samples.” She thought for a moment about what she’d just implied, then leapt off the couch with a yelp. Face bright pink, Sunset said, “Could you guys quiet down? I’m trying to memorize the Marabunta countercurse Princess Twilight sent me.” Fluttershy flinched. Rainbow snorted and sat back down. In a different seat. A few minutes later, Sunset shut the journal. “Alright, I think I’ve got it. Rainbow?” “Finally.” Rainbow ran up the stairs to Sunset’s bed and jumped on, nearly knocking Sunset to the first floor in the process. When she saw Sunset’s glare, she snickered. That just made Sunset’s glare deeper. Fluttershy looked up at them. “Are you sure you two will be alright?” “We’ll be fine,” Rainbow said, flopping down onto her stomach. “We go into Sunset’s mind, grab the monster, blast it, and come right back. It’ll be easy!” “Thanks again for babysitting us.” Sunset pointed at her jacket, draped over a chair. “My wallet’s in my pocket. If you wanna order a pizza or something while we’re under, go crazy.” “No, no, don’t worry.” Fluttershy tickled Ray’s chin. “Ray and I will be perfectly happy entertaining ourselves.” Sunset turned back to Rainbow, then grabbed her geode from the nightstand and tied it around her neck. “Ugh, just wearing this thing, I can feel the Marabunta raging inside my head. When we find it, it’s not going to be happy.” “Sounds like a challenge,” Rainbow said, puffing out her chest. “Anything I need to know before we beat this sucker?” “I’ve walked around inside my own head before, so I’ve got some experience.” Sunset fingered the amulet. “I think I’ll be able to guide us through it, but there’ll be side effects: using the geode is going to make the both of us way more emotional. Spend too long inside my head, and we might just start having wild mood swings.” “So it’ll be like we’re on our periods.” “You’ve got such a way with words, Dash.” Giggling, Sunset offered her hands. “Here’s hoping this works. Ready?” With a smirk, Rainbow grabbed them. “You know it.” Sunset closed her eyes. A tinnitus-like ringing filled the air as the amulet hanging from her neck sparked to life, glowing a bright red. Rainbow could feel the magic flowing along Sunset’s skin, a sharp tingle, like tiny flickers of lightning jumping between their entwined fingers. Sunset’s eyes snapped open, beaming with pure white energy. Rainbow started to flinch back, but the apartment disappeared. A swirling purple vortex surrounded her, magic boring into her eyes and ears and skin. She tried to scream, but couldn't open her lips, couldn't move at all. The flashing lights blinded her, the magic twisted up her guts and wrung them back out. Then, nothing. Then, she fell through the sky.
TwoRainbow Dash had heard the pickup line before: “Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” But it wasn’t until she’d been sucked into someone else’s brain through a magic geode and spit out of a vortex that she could give her definite answer: Yes. Yes, it did. Gravity claimed Rainbow Dash with force, pulling her from the sky, straight to the ground. “Aaugh!” she shouted, crashing stomach-first onto a hard, cold surface. She stayed still, but the needles in her head didn't fade. Holding in a barrel of puke, she scrabbled onto her hands and knees and scanned the area. Hundreds upon hundreds of bookshelves, each one as tall and wide as CHS, surrounded her. Above her hung the shadowy black sky she’d fallen from; she looked down, and found a perfect reflection of herself in the marble floor. In the corner of her eye, a hand appeared. “Need some help?” Rainbow took Sunset’s hand and rose to her feet. “Ugh,” she said, holding her head. “I feel like I just slammed back, like, fifty beers.” “You haven’t had a sip of booze in your life.” “Doesn’t mean I don’t know it what feels like,” Rainbow said, turning up her nose. Her skull throbbed at the sudden motion. “Where are we?” Stepping forward, Sunset gestured to the bookshelves around them. “Welcome to my mind! I guess your idea worked.” “Your mind is a library?” Rainbow laughed. “Who are you, Twilight?” Sunset rolled her eyes. “My mind is a lot of things. This is just where you enter—a room containing the contents of every book I’ve ever read. Think of it like a lobby. I’ve read your mind before, you have one too.” “I doubt mine is as nerdy as this.” “My mind isn’t nerdy. It’s... sophisticated. Cultured.” Rainbow snatched a book from one of the shelves and flipped it open. “This is just filled with algebra!” Sunset pulled it away. “Don’t touch that.” “Why?” Rainbow raised a brow. “Is it important? Does your brain, like, need math to survive?” “No, it’s just—” Sunset sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Listen, Rainbow. If you’re gonna go running around my mind with me, then we’ve gotta set some ground rules first. For one: no reading my memories without my permission.” Under a narrow-eyed glance, Rainbow tried to smile. “Why? You think I’m gonna blab to the whole school or something?” Sunset didn’t smile back. “Because snooping in someone’s memories is messed up?” “You look at other people’s memories all the time.” “Only when they’re evil.” Rainbow opened her mouth again, but closed it when she realized she had nothing to say. She just wanted to argue more. “Holy hell,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “You were right about the amulet messing with my head.” “Told you,” Sunset said with a tiny smile. She put the algebra book back on the shelf. “We should try to keep as calm as we can. But seriously, don’t snoop around, okay? My brain, my rules.” Rainbow ignored the hot flash of annoyance. “Fine. So, where is this monster of yours?” All she saw around her were shelves, stretching out beyond her sight and into darkness. “I dunno.” Sunset touched her geode. “I can feel its presence, but the Marabunta is designed to be stealthy, to ambush intruders. I doubt it’s just gonna hand itself to us on a silver platter.” She turned to Rainbow. “But considering a foreign body just invaded my mind, I imagine it’s not going to be happy either.” Rainbow smirked. “I’m foreign? You’re the horse alien.” “Not what I meant.” Sunset walked off, down a random aisle. “I haven’t totally explored this library, but I think I know the way to the next room. Come with me, and keep your guard up.” “Aye aye, Captain.” Rainbow followed after, running to catch up. Sunset’s mind-library went on for miles it seemed, stuffed with books upon books upon books of every shape and size. Just how many books had Sunset read in her life? Rainbow didn’t think that this many books even existed. She enjoyed a good adventure novel now and then, but Sunset’s mind looked like the king of all libraries. “Y’know,” Rainbow said, “as nerdy as this is, I was expecting it to be a lot weirder. Like, melting clocks and talking animals.” “Are talking animals really so weird anymore?” Sunset asked with a smile. “But you’d be surprised. Our minds are pretty straightforward, so long as you’re not Pinkie Pie.” “I was at least expecting to turn into a pony.” Sunset winked. “Feel free to walk around on all fours if you’d like.” “Kinky,” said Rainbow, turning Sunset red. “Speaking of kinky: what kind of dark hidden secrets do you have hidden in here? “I don’t have any hidden secrets.” “C’mon, everyone’s got a secret. Lemme guess: when no one’s looking, you pick your nose.” “What? Ew.” Grimacing, Sunset shook her head. “I told you this morning, I don’t keep secrets anymore. But what about you? Are you sure you really aren’t afraid of anything?” “Of course I’m not. I mean, have you seen me?” Rainbow rolled up her sleeves and flexed, showing off her lean, muscled arms. “How could someone as awesome as me be scared of anything? This monster of yours will be crying for his mommy once I’m through with him.” Sunset simpered. “Y’know, Dash, I get being confident, but some people might find that bravado of yours a bit obnoxious.” Rainbow dropped her arms and locked them to her side. “I’m not obnoxious,” she spat, louder than she’d meant. “I didn’t say you were. I just said that flexing in my face might be.” “Oh.” Rainbow turned her head away, trying to ignore how badly her face burned. “Well, that’s not either.” She didn’t pay attention to Sunset’s response. The echo of their voices faded, and silence bore down on them. Rainbow hated places like this, where every word she spoke was sent right back to show how dumb she sounded. She squinted, trying to see the end of the path they walked down, but shadows covered the aisles. The monster could’ve been hiding around any corner, behind any shelf, waiting for its prey to stumble into its trap. Any second now, it could leap out and snatch them away—would Sunset cast the counterspell before it drove Rainbow insane? It can’t show me my worst fear if I’ve got no fear. I’m not a baby—I can handle this. Rainbow steeled her jaw and forced the thought out of her mind. To distract herself, she turned to the books that littered the aisles. She couldn’t imagine what might be in these books—aside from boring algebra, of course. And if Sunset really didn’t have any secrets, why couldn’t Rainbow read anything? Snooping was only snooping if you were trying to get dirt on someone, not entertain yourself. That’s what Rarity said, anyway. As they passed into another aisle, Rainbow fell back from Sunset, then reached up and pulled down the biggest, coolest-looking book she saw. Bound in blood-red leather, it looked like it’d come straight out of a vampire flick. She opened it up to a page in the middle and furrowed her brow. Unintelligible scribblings stared back at her, some bizarre cross between gibberish and gobbledygook. Drawings of horses and skulls filled the margins. She chuckled. “Hey!” Sunset turned around and frowned. “I thought I said not to look at anything!” “Sorry, sorry, it’s just—” Rainbow turned the book around, showing Sunset the page she’d opened up to. “This looks like something an emo kid would doodle in their math notebook.” Sunset went white. She shot towards Rainbow, grabbed the book from her hands, and tossed it back onto a random shelf. “Whoa, whoa!” Rainbow said, checking her fingers for papercuts. “What was that?” “Nothing.” Sunset hurried forward. “Just a stupid book.” “That was not nothing.” Rainbow ran and grabbed her shoulder, twisting her around to see her face. “C’mon. I thought you said you had no secrets?” Sunset stared, blank faced—then snorted. “It was a book of dark magic. Worse than the Marabunta—the kind that’s made to hurt innocent people.” “...And you have it memorized?” “No!” Sunset shouted. She sputtered, then added, “Well, yeah, I do, but that’s just because I have a good memory. You remember pretty much everything you read, technically, you just can’t access—” She stopped and face-palmed. “It’s before I became friends with you girls, okay? When I was evil.” Shaking, she managed to look Rainbow in the eye. “Really.” “Okay, okay.” Cursing herself for not thinking before she spoke, Rainbow put on a smile and patted Sunset’s back. “Don’t worry about it. I bet you have lots of weird pony stuff in here.” She paused. “And, uh, sorry for snooping, I guess.” Silent, Sunset nodded. The floor beneath them shook, sending a few books tumbling to the floor. Sunset and Rainbow grabbed each other as the tremor passed through, and shared a wide-eyed look once it ended. Rainbow swallowed. “Was that...?” Sunset took a deep breath. “I think so. That must mean we’re going in the right direction.” Her embarrassment seemingly forgotten, she let go of Rainbow’s jacket and resumed walking. “Come on, we’re not far from the exit.” Taking one last glance at the book of dark magic, now lying open on the floor, Rainbow followed. Eventually, they reached the end of the darkened horizon—a marble wall, with a single unmarked door fitted into the middle. Sunset opened it up, and the two walked through. They entered a narrow hallway, each wall dotted with countless doors, just like the one they’d just opened. Sunset blinked. “We went the wrong way.” “What?” Rainbow’s whole body wilted. “We’ve been walking for, like, twenty days. And now we have to go back?” “No, we should be fine.” Sunset headed forward, one hand brushing the wall. “This just isn’t what I was expecting to see. I’ve never been in here before.” “Well, what’s behind the doors?” Rainbow tried to peer through a keyhole, but just found darkness. Sunset opened a random door. Her face went red and she slammed it shut again. “I think I know what hall this is now,” she said, backing away. Rainbow leaned forward. “Yeah?” For a moment, Sunset kept quiet, glancing between the closed doors. Then, with that same blank face she had taken on about the book, said, “Stay here, don’t open anything. Please. I’m going ahead to look for the Marabunta. There’s a chance it could be hiding behind one of these doors, so—” “Excuse me?” Rainbow stomped up to Sunset, hands on her hips. “Could you get over this weird snooping phobia you’ve got? I did not get thrown into a magic brain vortex just to sit on my butt. I came here to help you fight!” She pointed to the door Sunset had opened. “And what happened to not keeping secrets? We, like, just went over this!” “There’s a difference between something being a secret and something being—” Sunset waved her hand around, like she was searching for the words in the air. “—personal. And besides, you’ve got super speed, and this hall echoes like crazy; if I find the Marabunta, I’ll call for you, and you can run and meet me.” “Can’t I just follow you?” “I’m probably gonna be opening lots of doors, and I’d rather you not peek in.” Sunset pursed her lips. “Again.” “Ugggghhhhhh.” Rainbow threw her arms up and banged her fists against a wall. “This is so dumb!” “Hey, it’s my mind,” Sunset said, hands on hips. “My brain, my rules.” “I heard you the first time you said that.” Rainbow slid down the wall and groaned. “Fine.” Sunset nodded and walked off, checking different doors as she went. Rainbow glowered. Fluttershy sighed. Rainbow and Sunset—both of whom’s eyes had become like searchlights, blazing with white energy—had been gone for almost an hour now. Ray had fallen asleep just a few minutes later. Fluttershy had no phone service in this part of town, and had forgotten to ask Sunset for the WiFi password. Already she’d organized all of Sunset’s bookshelves, checked all the outlets to make sure there was no danger of a fire breaking out, and rebuilt her birdhouse. Now she just sat by Sunset’s desk, hands folded in her lap, waiting for her friends to return. Her eyes wandered around the apartment, searching for something new to clean. They fell upon Sunset’s jacket, still hanging from another nearby chair. She knew she couldn’t call for food—no phone service—but still she stood and picked Sunset’s jacket up. “Goodness,” she said, stroking the faux leather. “This is so smooth. No wonder Sunset wears it so much.” She felt the insides, and found they were just as soft as the outside was smooth. She glanced up at Sunset and Rainbow. Still caught in their trance. Slipping the jacket on, Fluttershy walked over to Sunset’s mirror. She giggled at her reflection; her pink locks didn’t complement the black leather as well as Sunset’s red-and-orange did, but she still looked quite nice. Hot, even. Placing her hands on her hips, Fluttershy smirked as hard as she could. “I’m Sunset Shimmer,” she said, trying to imitate her friend’s deeper voice. “I ride motorbikes and fight brain demons. I’m a total bad girl.” She laughed again, and moved to take off the jacket—but stopped when she noticed Sunset’s walk-in closet, door ajar. She scurried over and peered inside. She found dozens of leather jackets. Tight, vibrantly colored miniskirts. Stilettos sharp enough to piece steel. “Oh, my.” Ten. Minutes. Rainbow had waited for ten minutes, and Sunset still hadn’t returned. Just how many doors did this hall have? Rainbow was starting to wish that the Marigold would just attack already. Even that would be better than just sitting there, staring at the ceiling. For the third time since Sunset had left, Rainbow shouted a curse. When the echo faded, flooding her with silence once again, she slumped over onto her side. She hated this. She hated the quiet, hated that Sunset didn’t trust her, hated that Sunset had left her behind like a piece of trash when all she wanted was to help. Why was Sunset acting so weird? Why was she treating Rainbow like an idiot? Maybe she’s got a crush on me. “Nah.” Maybe it’s because all I do is make people angry. Rainbow balled up her fists. Memories hung in her head: teachers, coaches, former friends, all scolding and yelling at her for no good reason. Reckless, they said. Rude. Selfish. Stupid. We don’t want you here. She shook the thought off and stood up. “This is stupid.” Probably just Sunset’s geode messing with her emotions again. “I can help,” she said, walking up to the door Sunset had opened. “And Sunset can get over her dumb snooping obsession.” She turned the knob, threw the door open, and walked inside. She saw two familiar people. And a familiar couch. Sprinting back out, she closed the door tight, then swore never to visit Sunset’s apartment again. As she tried to calm her speeding heart, she picked another door further down the line and entered it. She found herself standing behind the counter at Sugarcube Corner, next to Mrs. Cake. The store was packed, each and every table filled with chatting customers. And just on the other side of the counter, talking and laughing with Mrs. Cake, stood Sunset. Yet it wasn’t the Sunset that Rainbow knew. This Sunset was smaller, scrawnier, younger—first year of high school younger. She shared one last laugh with Mrs. Cake, then placed her order. Once Mrs. Cake walked away, however, Sunset’s smile disappeared, replaced by a snide scowl. She took a tiny glance around the store before snatching two dollar bills out of the tip jar. When Mrs. Cake returned with her food, Sunset’s smile came back on, and she handed the bills over as payment. “Hey!” Rainbow said. “That’s real low, Sunset.” If anyone could hear her, they didn’t show it. Sunset waved goodbye and walked out of the shop, humming as she went. The world faded to black for a moment, then the scene—This must be a memory, I guess.—began to replay. Rainbow stepped back out of the dream and closed the door. Scratching her chin, Rainbow headed further down the hall. What was the theme here? What did these memories share? Things Sunset was embarrassed about? Ashamed of? Didn’t want anyone to know about? Cold guilt tugged at Rainbow’s chest. Looking through Sunset’s memories was messed up. She knew that. But she also knew that Sunset needed help. And she’d never get it with Rainbow just sitting around. Rainbow headed to the next door. Deep breaths, Sunset repeated to herself, trying to snuff out the churning in her gut. Deep breaths. She’d gotten the trick from Twilight, who had long ago taught her the value of a deep, calming breath. And she needed it now more than ever, watching herself berate Flash Sentry. She’d watched the memory three times over, standing in the corner of her apartment. She remembered the day too well—a Friday night in the middle of May, nearly two years ago. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” her younger self said, her words booming through the apartment. Sunset cringed away. If only she could have heard herself back then, heard the absolute evil in her voice. “You’re an hour late. Where were you?” Flash recoiled too. “I told you, I had band practice.” “On Thursday nights, you come here and watch TV with me. We’ve been over this.” “I know we always hang out on Thursday,” Flash said. “But Thunderbass can’t make it to practice tomorrow, so we moved it up to tonight. I texted you—” The younger Sunset stomped her foot. “I don’t care about your stupid boy band! When I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand?” Flash stared. “I just think—” “I asked you a yes-or-no question. This isn’t hard.” Flash sighed and slumped into the couch. “Yes.” “Good.” The younger Sunset smiled and sat down, wrapping an arm around her boyfriend. She flicked on the TV and cuddled up close to him. Tracing a finger in circles on his chest, she murmured, “You’re such a sweetie pie.” The fake sugar in her younger self’s voice was enough to give Sunset food poisoning. Sunset hurried out of the memory, through the open door in the middle of the room that led back into her mindscape. She closed the door and walked on. “No Marabunta in there,” she said. By now, Sunset was searching through these awful memories less to find the Marabunta, and more to satisfy her own masochism. She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t keep from opening the doors and reminding herself how how awful she’d been. The hallway went on forever. She waded through the memories with slumped shoulders, watching herself disobey Celestia, backstab her classmates, cheat to reach the top. Barely thirty doors opened, and already Sunset had to stop, leaning against a wall to grit her teeth. Through these doors sat every evil thought she’d ever had. She didn’t need to force herself to relive all that. She couldn’t. She took another long breath and stood up straight. She was acting like a whiny child—Who cares if I’ve got some regrets? Everyone has regrets. For everyone’s sake, she needed to pull herself together and keep searching. It’s been a year since I became good. These memories can’t change that. She entered another memory and found herself standing in the CHS cafeteria, one week after her “reformation.” She recognized it by the bags under her younger self’s eyes from the mornings spent rebuilding the school, and from the yellow goop splattered across her shirt. Her younger self had been eating lunch with all her new friends, chatting away, when she’d spilled applesauce all over herself—and Sunset yelped and cursed, and Rarity and Applejack helped clean it up, but Rainbow and Pinkie laughed and made jokes—Sunset clenched her teeth, her fists, but kept quiet, not wanting to make a scene—but then Fluttershy started giggling, and it sent Sunset over the edge— With bared teeth, the younger Sunset shot up and towered over Fluttershy. “Oh, ha ha, you rabbit shit-smelling freak!” —and that sent Rainbow into a frenzy, shouting and swearing right back—and the two almost got into a fight before Applejack pushed them apart—and the younger Sunset stormed off, applesauce still dripping down her skirt, while Fluttershy cried— Sunset backed out of the memory and shut it tight. The girls nearly kicked her out of the group for that. It had taken a week for Sunset to approach them again. Sunset was stressed out and sensitive back then. It didn’t take much to set her off. But she'd apologized to them, and they’d apologized to her, and everything was fine. Everything. The next door sent her backstage at the Battle of the Bands, months later, when she’d gotten into an argument with Trixie and nearly punched her out. She still remembered fantasizing about it for minutes after, wishing she could have slugged that awful smile right off Trixie’s face. And then the next door, sending her out into a half-destroyed soccer field, right in the middle of the Friendship Games. Shaking, she watched her younger self—This was only six months ago.—scream at Twilight with the same venom she’d once aimed at Flash Sentry. She watched Twilight run away, sobbing. She’d never apologized for that, had she? She’d just let it pass, assumed Twilight had forgotten about it, assumed Twilight had forgiven her. Her chest tightened as she stepped back into the hall. A year since the Fall Formal, and still she had such a stupidly short temper, still she got mad about the tiniest things. A year later, and she was still just one step away from reverting into that awful, demanding brat who just wanted to hurt everyone. She tried to take another deep breath, but couldn’t hold it. Head down, she trudged back to Rainbow Dash. Six doors later, and the most exciting memory Rainbow had found was the first time Sunset tried on a bra. Either horses had their boobs in a way different place, or Sunset had thought it was a fanny pack. Snickering, she scurried back out into the hall. Some part of her told her to stop; she knew she had no right to see Sunset’s past like this, and that small wriggle of guilt still lingered. Sunset would be pissed if she found out. But another part told her to go on. Who cared if Sunset got mad? Rainbow was searching for the monster to help Sunset, not humiliate her. And besides, Rainbow would never tell anyone about what she saw. Sunset’s secrets—most of which were pretty funny—were safe with Rainbow. Rainbow picked another door. This one opened up to the courtyard in front of Canterlot High, way early in the morning. The school’s entire entranceway was missing, ripped from the foundation, which meant that this had to be some time soon after the Fall Formal. It didn’t take long to find Sunset, kneeling in front of the entrance steps, spreading cement between concrete blocks. Rainbow ran to get a better look, but skidded to a stop when she caught Sunset’s voice. “Screw this,” Sunset spat at the ground, an awful glare stretched across her face. “Screw this, screw this, screw this. Screw everyone. Screw those stupid girls.” Rainbow stopped just behind Sunset, and recoiled when she jumped up, screamed, and threw her cement trowel across the courtyard. “Ugh, I never should have agreed to become one of the stupid good guys! I should have killed them all when I had the chance!” With bloodshot eyes, the past Sunset turned around and gazed right through Rainbow, to the horse statue in the center of the yard. “These girls think they can change me, make me one of them. They can’t. As soon as I get the chance, they’re dead.” Rainbow Dash stared, a chill racing down her back. Then came Sunset’s voice again, but this time from behind her: “What the hell, Rainbow?” She turned around just in time for Sunset—the real Sunset—to grab her by the collar and drag her out of the memory, back into the hallway. Once the door closed, Rainbow shook her off. “Hey, watch it!” “I told you not to look at anything!” Sunset said, jabbing a finger too close to Rainbow’s face. The guilt washed over Rainbow. Sputtering, she hit Sunset’s hand away. “So what, I’m not even allowed to see now? You want me to rip out my eyes?” “You’re not funny, Dash.” Sunset sneered. “I’m being serious.” “I was just—” Seeing Sunset’s glare, Rainbow looked away. “Fine, I’m sorry. I won’t do it anymore.” “That’s what you said when you looked in the book. An apology only works if you’re actually sorry.” “I’m here to help you!” Rainbow shouted, voice cracking. Who was Sunset to decide if she was really sorry or not? “Why don’t you trust me?” “Because you keep looking at stuff you’re not supposed to! Even when I tell you specifically not to!” Sunset growled and shook her head. “You’re so annoying. You never listen!” Rainbow fell back a step—then saw red. She grinned. “Oh, I’m annoying, huh? Why? Because I found out about your plan?” Sunset stared. “What?” “You know what I mean. Your plan to kill us all?” Rainbow said, forcing a laugh. Her head buzzed. She didn’t mean this, she knew Sunset would never hurt them, Rainbow just wanted to hurt her. “Maybe you brought me here just to kill me!” “No! No.” Sunset looked ready to beat Rainbow to death right there. She advanced on her. “You don’t get to turn this around on me. You always assume the worst about me, about everyone! You’re awful!” Rainbow threw out her arms and shoved Sunset. “You’re awful!” Sunset stumbled away a few steps, but then swore and shoved Rainbow right back. Mind wild, Rainbow balled up her fists and reared back. A brain-shaking roar ripped through the hallway. From the shadows, a mass of red goo, like bloody gelatin, spilled down the hall. It moved with the speed of an airliner, headed straight for the girls. Sunset gasped. “It’s the—! Crap!” “Quick!” Rainbow said, shaking Sunset’s shoulder. “Do the spell!” “Uh, um—” Sunset tapped the side of her head. “Beldurra suntsi—” The Marabunta surrounded them, climbing up the walls, flowing hot through their shoes. It let out another roar and rocketed towards Sunset. “Watch out!” Rainbow screamed, and knocked her out of the way. The monster crashed into Rainbow, crushing her against the floor. She couldn’t breathe couldn’t move couldn’t think as it enveloped her. All she felt was a thousand burning insects crawling across her skin. She flailed her arms in every direction, tearing through the Marabunta until she reached fresh air. Head now free, she took a gasping breath, found Sunset—sprawled across the floor, trembling—and managed to shout “Help!” before the goo wrapped around her face and pulled her down again. She fought for a few moments more, but couldn’t find air again. Her fists unclenched, her muscles relaxed. Dark.
ThreeRainbow woke with a shuddering groan. She felt hot and sticky with sweat, like she’d been dunked in a vat of warm syrup. She threw off her blanket and stripped off her pajamas, but even that wasn’t enough to cool her off; her bedroom had become a sauna. So much for that cool Autumn weather. She turned over and smushed her face into the hot pillow (she flipped it over, but found the other side just as warm). She’d been having the weirdest dream—at least, she thought it had been weird. The harder she tried to remember, the farther it drifted from her mind, until it melted into a mess of vague emotions. She’d been angry at someone? Maybe? With sweat pooling under her, getting back to sleep seemed like an impossibility. Grumbling, she flipped onto her back again and checked her clock to see how much time she had before the alarm went off. 8:13 AM. Rainbow shrieked and fell out of bed. Late, late, late—her alarm should have gone off an hour ago. School started in twelve minutes, and CHS was halfway across town, twenty minutes away by foot. Ten if she didn’t stop at crosswalks and managed to avoid being run over. She’d already been late a dozen times that semester, and her academic career was on death’s doorstep. She ran through the calculations in her head as she zipped around her bedroom, snatching up underwear and deodorant and a shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, which she’d already worn twice that week without washing but whatever it was either be stinky or be dead, so she threw it on and sprinted out of the house. She only smacked into a wall once on the way out. The trip to school went by in seconds. By the time she made it to CHS, flying through the entrance like a rabid cheetah, she’d shouted enough curses to make a death metal band blush. Skidding on her heels, she slowed down and pulled out her phone. 8:32. That meant she’d missed homeroom and the first period bell had already rung, but if she hurried quick, she could make it to class before— “Miss Dash.” Her spine iced over. Putting on her best honor student smile, lopsided and toothy, she turned around to face Principal Celestia. “Uh,” Rainbow managed. “Hey! Happy Thursday?” Celestia grabbed her by the arm and led her through a doorway, which opened up to Celestia’s office. The two sat, and Rainbow tried to shrink into her seat but couldn’t move. “This is the fourteenth time you’ve been late,” Celestia said, folding her hands on the desk. “Your attitude about school is disappointing.” Rainbow couldn’t remember a single time she’d been late before, but the comment hurt all the same. “Sorry,” she said. She didn’t hear her own voice. “I’m starting to wonder if keeping you around is worth the effort. Everyone is.” The walls giggled and whispered. Rainbow gulped. “Yes.” “Leave,” said Celestia. So Rainbow left, covering her face to hide from all the people staring at her, gossiping from the sidelines, guessing on how Rainbow Dash had messed up this time. Everyone knew Rainbow was a screw up. She felt like she was floating outside herself, watching herself run down the hall, away from everyone who hated her. She felt scared and sad. Finally, she reached an open door, and stepped outside to find herself on the soccer field. All of her friends stood at the other end, arranged in a circle. She needed to vent to them. They would understand. But when she got close she discovered what they were all gathered around: Fluttershy’s broken birdhouse. It still had a hole in the side, the size of Rainbow’s fist. Broken wood shards lay among the blades of grass. Rainbow gasped and zoomed forward, but after four steps her foot sank deep into the ground, as if the dirt were melting gelatin. Pain shot up her joints. With her lower leg twisted hard to one side, she collapsed onto the astroturf. She breathed in fake dirt. As she writhed in the grass, the soccer field was impossibly long. She opened her mouth and cried out to her friends, who turned, stared, smiled, and walked in the opposite direction. They disappeared. Rainbow flailed, screamed. Her arms had become fifty pounds heavier—she couldn’t move them without feeling like a baseball bat was being thrust into her ribcage, stealing her breath. She stopped fighting, and tried crying. She couldn’t make any sound. “Why did you do this?” asked Fluttershy, appearing before her. The birdhouse fell apart in her hands. “Why are you so awful?” Rainbow tried to reach for Fluttershy, but stayed stuck. “You’re obnoxious,” Rarity said. “Ugly, vapid, unlikable. All you care about is yourself, and that you look good.” Twilight appeared next to her. “And stupid. Mean, too. If it wasn’t for your magic, no one would want you around. I don’t want to be friends with you.” “I don’t either,” said Pinkie. All Rainbow could do at this point was beat her own head against the ground, trying to knock herself out. “All you ever do is yell and make jokes,” Applejack said, crossing her arms. “Nobody likes them. We just laugh because we don’t want you to know how much we hate you.” Sunset stood over her. “You never think before you do anything, do you? And then, when it all blows up in your face, you just expect everybody to forgive you. Worthless.” “We don’t forgive you,” Fluttershy said. “We’re done with you.” Rainbow flailed harder, but nothing could block out the voices. Nothing could shield her from the truth: she didn’t deserve to be cared about. She didn’t deserve friends. Not someone as rude and selfish as her. She opened her eyes, and found herself back in her bedroom. Rainbow sat up with a shuddering groan. She felt hot and sticky with sweat, like she’d been dunked in a vat of warm syrup. She threw off her blanket and stripped off her pajamas, but even that wasn’t enough to cool her off; her bedroom had become a sauna. So much for that cool Autumn weather. She turned over and smushed her face into the hot pillow (she flipped it over, but found the other side just as warm). She’d been having the weirdest dream—at least, she thought it had been weird. The harder she tried to remember, the farther it drifted from her mind, until it melted into a mess of vague emotions. She’d been angry at someone? Maybe? With sweat pooling under her, getting back to sleep seemed like an impossibility. Grumbling, she flipped onto her back again and checked her clock to see how much time she had before the alarm went off. 8:13 AM. Rainbow shrieked and fell out of bed. Late, late, late—her alarm should have gone off an hour ago. School started in twelve minutes, and CHS was halfway across town, twenty minutes away by foot. Ten if she didn’t stop at crosswalks and managed to avoid being run over. She’d already been late a dozen times that semester, and her academic career was on death’s doorstep. She ran through the calculations in her head as she zipped around her bedroom, snatching up underwear and deodorant and a shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, which she’d already worn twice that week without washing but whatever it was either be stinky or be dead, so she threw it on and sprinted out of the house. She only smacked into a wall once on the way out. The trip to school went by in seconds. By the time she made it to CHS, flying through the entrance like a rabid cheetah, she’d shouted enough curses to make a death metal band blush. Skidding on her heels, she slowed down and pulled out her phone. 8:32. That meant she’d missed homeroom and the first period bell had already rung, but if she hurried quick, she could make it to class before— “Miss Dash.” Her spine iced over. Putting on her best honor student smile, lopsided and toothy, she turned around to face Principal Celestia. “Uh,” Rainbow managed. “Hey! Happy Thursday?” Celestia grabbed her by the arm. They stepped through a doorway, which opened up to Celestia’s Office. The two sat, and Rainbow tried to shrink into her seat but couldn’t move. “This is the fourteenth time you’ve been late,” Celestia said, folding her hands on the desk. “Your attitude about school is disappointing.” Rainbow couldn’t remember a single time she’d been late before, but the comment hurt all the same. “Sorry,” she said. She didn’t hear her own voice. “I’m starting to wonder if keeping you around is worth the effort. Everyone is.” The walls giggled and whispered. Rainbow gulped. “Yes.” “Leave,” said Celestia. So Rainbow left, covering her face to hide from all the people staring at her, gossiping from the sidelines, guessing on how Rainbow Dash had messed up this time. Everyone knew Rainbow was a screw up. She felt like she was floating outside herself, watching herself run down the hall, away from everyone who hated her. She felt scared and sad. Finally, she reached an open door, and stepped outside to find herself on the soccer field. All of her friends stood at the other end, arranged in a circle. She needed to vent to them. They would understand. But when she got close she discovered what they were all gathered around: Fluttershy’s broken birdhouse. It still had a hole in the side, the size of Rainbow’s fist. Broken wood shards lay among the blades of grass. Rainbow gasped and zoomed forward, but after four steps her foot sank deep into the ground, as if the dirt were melting gelatin. Pain shot up her joints. With her lower leg twisted hard to one side, she collapsed onto the astroturf. She breathed in fake dirt. As she writhed in the grass, the soccer field was impossibly long. She opened her mouth and cried out to her friends, who turned, stared, smiled, and walked in the opposite direction. They disappeared. Rainbow flailed, screamed. Her arms had become fifty pounds heavier—she couldn’t move them without feeling like a baseball bat was being thrust into her ribcage, stealing her breath. She stopped fighting, and tried crying. She couldn’t make any sound. “Why did you do this?” asked Fluttershy, appearing before her. The birdhouse fell apart in her hands. “Why are you so awful?” Rainbow tried to reach for Fluttershy, but stayed stuck. “You’re obnoxious,” Rarity said. “Ugly, vapid, unlikable. All you care about is yourself, and that you look good.” Twilight appeared next to her. “And stupid. Mean, too. If it wasn’t for your magic, no one would want you around. I don’t want to be friends with you.” “I don’t either,” said Pinkie. All Rainbow could do at this point was beat her own head against the ground, trying to knock herself out. “All you ever do is yell and make jokes,” Applejack said, crossing her arms. “Nobody likes them. We just laugh because we don’t want you to know how much we hate you.” Sunset stood over her. “You never think before you do anything, do you? And then, when it all blows up in your face, you just expect everybody to forgive you. Worthless.” “We don’t forgive you,” Fluttershy said. “We’re done with you.” Rainbow flailed harder, but nothing could block out the voices. Nothing could shield her from the truth: she didn’t deserve to be cared about. She didn’t deserve friends. Not someone as rude and selfish as her. She opened her eyes, and found herself back in her bedroom. Rainbow sat up with a shuddering groan. She felt hot and sticky with sweat, like she’d been dunked in a vat of warm syrup. She threw off her blanket and stripped off her pajamas, but even that wasn’t enough to cool her off; her bedroom had become a sauna. So much for that cool Autumn weather. She turned over and smushed her face into the hot pillow (she flipped it over, but found the other side just as warm). She’d been having the weirdest dream—at least, she thought it had been weird. The harder she tried to remember, the farther it drifted from her mind, until it melted into a mess of vague emotions. She’d been angry at someone? Maybe? With sweat pooling under her, getting back to sleep seemed like an impossibility. Grumbling, she flipped onto her back again and checked her clock to see how much time she had before the alarm went off. 8:13 AM. Rainbow shrieked and fell out of bed. Late, late, late—her alarm should have gone off an hour ago. School started in twelve minutes, and CHS was halfway across town, twenty minutes away by foot. Ten if she didn’t stop at crosswalks and managed to avoid being run over. She’d already been late a dozen times that semester, and her academic career was on death’s doorstep. She ran through the calculations in her head as she zipped around her bedroom, snatching up underwear and deodorant and a shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, which she’d already worn twice that week without washing but whatever it was either be stinky or be dead, so she threw it on and sprinted out of the house. She only smacked into a wall once on the way out. The trip to school went by in seconds. By the time she made it to CHS, flying through the entrance like a rabid cheetah, she’d shouted enough curses to make a death metal band blush. Skidding on her heels, she slowed down and pulled out her phone. 8:32. That meant she’d missed homeroom and the first period bell had already rung, but if she hurried quick, she could make it to class before— “Let go of her!” Warmth filled Rainbow’s head, then flowed out of her ears. Letting out an awful, wet-lunged cough, she rolled onto her back. She lay in an empty white chamber, resting in Sunset’s arms. Above them hung the Marabunta, crawling across the ceiling, its various chunks forming into one moist mass. Rainbow took gulping breaths. “Sunset,” she said. Her face, soaked with tears, felt like mush. “Why—” Sunset hauled her up onto two feet. “Less talking, more running!” She sprinted off, pulling Rainbow behind her like a ragdoll. They headed for a nearby hallway. Rainbow stumbled along, tripping over her own feet, everything going blurry around her. The low rumble of the Marabunta’s growl still shook the ground. She could only keep running for about a minute before her legs gave out and she collapsed, nearly pulling Sunset down with her. Sunset cursed and skidded to a halt. “C’mon, Dash,” she said, “we’ve gotta get ready for the Marabunta to come back.” Rainbow tried to take a deep breath, but choked on the air. “Why did you save me?” “What do you mean, why?” Sunset knelt down. “You’re my friend! I wasn’t just gonna let the Marabunta kill you!” “But, but—” Rainbow shook her head. “But you should hate me! Worthless, you said! I’m stupid, and vapid, and unlikable. I looked at all your secrets, and hurt Fluttershy, and—” “Dash.” Grabbing hold of Rainbow’s shoulders, Sunset looked her in the eye and smiled. “You are annoying as hell sometimes, but you are not worthless, and I’m not leaving you behind to get tortured by some dream demon. I brought you here, and I’m getting you out.” Rainbow bit down hard on her lip, taking in a deep breath to dry up her tears. She pulled herself back up to her feet. The Marabunta roared, finally back into one gargantuan blob. It slid across the ceiling, swarming above them. Sunset glared up at it, feet planted firm. “Let’s end this.” She lifted her arms and thrust her palms out towards the monster. “Beldurra suntsituko da!” A silent moment passed. The Marabunta kept hanging. Sunset stepped back. “It didn’t work—” The Marabunta swooped down and grabbed Sunset, slamming her into a wall. Rainbow shouted and beat her fists against it as it passed, but her hands just sunk into the goo. “Rainbow, run!” Sunset shouted as the Marabunta crept up her body. She craned her neck to keep out of its reach. “This thing is too strong! Go get the girls, Princess Twilight, anyone—” The Marabunta forced itself into Sunset’s ears with a slick gurgle. A swimming pool of red goo slipped into Sunset’s head, earning a scream from the helpless girl. Within seconds, the Marabunta had disappeared into its new home, leaving Sunset to collapse like a broken doll against the wall. Rainbow froze for a few seconds, cold terror planting her to the ground. Then, shrieking Sunset’s name, she zoomed over to the carcass and rolled her over onto her back. She wasn’t breathing. “Oh my god, oh my god,” Rainbow sputtered. Sunset’s eyes stayed open, but she just stared forward, not blinking. Behind the whites of her eyes, Rainbow could see slithering red tendrils, mixed in with the bloodshot veins. “Let her go!” Rainbow beat her fists against the ground by Sunset’s ear, as if trying to scare away a cat. “Get out of her head!” Sunset had managed to free Rainbow. Why couldn’t Rainbow do the same? It’s not my head. I can’t do anything. Rainbow closed her eyes and rested her head on Sunset’s chest. Slow pulse, shallow breath, like she were asleep in bed. Minutes passed in silence. Rainbow stewed in the quiet, thinking over her nightmare—thinking about all she ever did was annoy people, and hurt them. She’d doomed Sunset now too, getting captured and needing to be saved. Another in a lifetime of screwups. But Sunset had been a screwup once too, right? Rainbow saw it firsthand. And yet Sunset got better. She became good. Why couldn’t Rainbow become good too? Sunset saved me. I’m not giving up on her—or myself. She could feel a familiar burn in the pit of her stomach, repressed tears spilling out. Rainbow panted for breath. All her thoughts, all her emotions launched into overdrive. She let out a shout, and blue light surrounded her. Wings shot out from her back, and her hair grew to twice its length. Touching the geode on Sunset’s chest, she focused her magic into the amulet until it glowed. She’d never used Sunset’s powers before, but she just sparked her energy in the same way she did to use super speed—and her head began to pound and the empty room around her melted away. The courtyard of Canterlot High appeared before her, dotted with flames and piles of rubble. Half the school had been torn away, blasted into dust. Bodies lay strewn across the sidewalks. And above it all flew Sunset, her skin and body twisted into its horrific demon form. She circled like a buzzard above the bodies of all her friends, Rainbow included. “Why?” Rarity asked. “Why would you do this?” All she received in response was a stream of burning energy, centered right on her stomach. She screamed. Among the bodies, Twilight—on her knees, trembling—looked up at Sunset. “Everyone forgave you,” she said. “I loved you.” Sunset laughed. “You made a mistake.” She blasted Twilight with magic, slamming her into the pavement until she stopped moving. “Loving me—you tied your own noose.” Twilight didn’t respond. She just stared, face blank. “You all did!” Sunset shrieked, still giggling. “You never should have trusted me. All I’ve ever wanted is power! I could never stay good!” Rainbow watched as the she-demon swooped through the sky, torturing all who remained, until she heard muted sobbing from somewhere in the distance. She ran over to find Sunset—the normal, teenaged Sunset—kneeling by the horse statue, head in her hands, crying. “Stop,” she said, barely audible above the moans of her friends. “Stop, please. I don’t want this. I don’t...” Rainbow shook her shoulders. “Sunset, wake up! Sunset!” Sunset looked up, her face damp and a patchy red. Her eyes were glazed over. “Rainbow?” She looked over to her dreamt-up friends. “But you’re—” “This isn’t real! None of this is real!” Rainbow said. “It’s just the Marabunta playing a trick on you, just like it did with me.” “It’s not...?” Sunset blinked a few times, and the life slowly returned to her eyes. But it soon disappeared, drowned out by another heaving sob. “But it’s true. I’m a monster! You can’t trust me.” “C’mon, that’s not—” “For months after the Fall Formal, all I thought about was betraying you all. I hated you!” Sunset said. “You forgave me, and all I wanted was my power. It’s been so long now, but what if I fail? What if I go back to being evil? I’ll just hurt you, and everyone, and Twilight, oh goddess, Twilight. Even now, I’m so impatient, I’m so angry, I’m so—” “Do you know who holds the record for most scored goals in a single CHS soccer game?” Sunset sniffled. “Uh. You?” “Yeah!” Rainbow said, nodding fast. “But do you know who held the record before me?” “No? What are you—” “Exactly!” Rainbow pumped her fist. “Everyone knows about me. But no one remembers the guy who used to hold the record. It’s just like how no one cares about how evil you used to be!” An array of emotions passed over Sunset’s face. “Rainbow, that simile made absolutely no sense.” “What the heck is a simile? I was trying to make a metaphor,” Rainbow muttered. She growled and waved her hands in front of her face. “Whatever! I’m not good at saying what I mean, okay? But what I’m trying to tell you is that you’re not the same person you used to be. You’re so much better!” Sunset scowled. “Says who?” “Says me, and Twilight, and, like, everyone at CHS!” Rainbow said. “We all care about you. And we love you for who you are now, not what you were a year ago. You used to be awful, but you changed, and now you’re smart, and funny, and nicer than pretty much anyone I’ve ever met. And honestly? You’re one of my best friends.” Before Sunset could respond, Rainbow pulled her into a hug, locking her arms around Sunset as tight as she could. Her eyes had started to sting; she shut them tight and buried her face in Sunset’s shoulder. It took a moment, but soon Sunset shook and did the same. The sounds of the demon’s mayhem faded out, replaced by the hum of Sunset’s magic. A fiery warmth beat against Rainbow’s skin, and Sunset transformed into her Ponied Up form. The two moved apart, wiping their eyes. “Don’t tell anyone how sappy I just got,” Rainbow said. “Of course.” Holding hands, they stood up. With a shared grin, they raised their free arms into the air and focused their magic. White light surrounded them, and Canterlot High disappeared. Rainbow’s body jerked back as she left the Marabunta’s vision and reentered her body—her body still inside of Sunset’s mind, at least. On the ground, Sunset gasped and shot up. The Marabunta, all one-million gallons of it, spilled out of Sunset’s head and onto the floor. Growling, it reared back, splashing across the walls. The girls stood together, bodies pulsing with magic, and glared at the monster as it reformed for another attack. They weren’t going to give it the chance. As one, they rose into the air. “You can’t hurt us anymore,” Sunset said. “Our friendship is strong enough to overcome any fear!” The Marabunta roared and shot towards them. Sunset placed one hand on her amulet, and the other out in front of her. “Beldurra suntsituko da!” A beam of purple energy shot from the two girls and hit the Marabunta dead in the center. It let out a gargling screech as its goo bubbled like hot tar, then swelled, then exploded. Waves of red juice flooded the room, spilling over Sunset and Rainbow. The two kept holding hands, even as Sunset snapped her fingers, and everything melted into a purple vortex— Rainbow gasped as she landed in her real, completely alive body, back in Sunset’s apartment. Windmilling her arms, she fell back and banged her skull against Sunset’s headboard, adding to her already pounding migraine. “Aaugh, crap!” Sunset fell back too, collapsing into her sheets. She groaned, rubbing at her eyes. A gasp came from the floor below them. “Are you two alright?” Fluttershy asked, standing by Sunset’s mirror and... wearing all of Sunset’s clothes. “Did you get rid of the monster?” “Yeah we did!” Rainbow cheered. She looked at Sunset. “We did, right?” “I feel like someone dropped a bowling ball on my head, which is at least a sign that we did something.” Sunset sat up and touched her geode. “Let me try accessing an old memory. If the Marabunta is still there, I’ll be able to feel it.” She closed her eyes. Heavy seconds passed. Rainbow gulped. “Well?” Sunset edged open her eyes. “I can’t feel anything,” she said. A smile broke out on her face and she threw up her hands. “I can’t feel anything! Rainbow, we did it!” Rainbow laughed and pulled Sunset into a hug. The two of them whooped and hollered, even in spite of their mutual magic hangovers. As the two of them descended the stairs from Sunset’s loft, Fluttershy clapped. “Yay!” “Yay is right. You wouldn’t believe what Rainbow and I—” Sunset looked at Fluttershy, scanning her up and down. “Uh. ‘Shy. Why are you wearing my jacket? And my shirt? And skirt? And boots?” Fluttershy glanced down at the oversized clothes hanging off of her, then up at Sunset. She frowned. “You didn’t leave me the WiFi password.” Sunset furrowed her brows for a moment, but then shrugged. “That’s fair. Hey, who wants pizza?” “Me!” Rainbow said, raising her hand. “I feel like I could eat a horse after that! Uh, no offense.” “I should probably change back into my own clothes,” Fluttershy said, blushing. She walked to the closet, but before stepping inside, stopped and smiled at the others. “I’m glad you two got back safe. I don’t know what I would do without two of my best friends.” She disappeared into the closet. Silence claimed the room. While Sunset took her phone from the coffee table, Rainbow fidgeted in place, staring at Sunset wistfully and thinking of all the things that still needed to be said. But she kept quiet. Author's Note now another year to the next chapter
FourAuthor's Note lol Four “I thought we had a deal,” Twilight yelled over the pounding dance music. She’d crossed her arms and put on a pout. “You don’t get to fight menacing magical monsters without me!” “Monster, technically—there was only one,” said Sunset with a big smile. When Twilight’s glare just grew sharper, Sunset took her hand. “I should have brought you, I know! But I could barely stand having one person in my brain. Any more, and my head might have popped.” Twilight pulled away. “You could have at least told me what was going on. What if your plan hadn’t worked, and the Marabunta killed you? What would I do then?” She gestured to the Fall Formal going on around them. “They’d be holding a funeral instead of a dance!” Sunset groaned and looked around. She hadn’t mustered the courage to tell Twilight about her mind-adventure until they’d arrived at the Fall Formal—on Sunday, two days after the fact. Arguing with your girlfriend was already stressful, and the strobe lights and thumping music of a high school dance didn’t help. Now, Twilight and Sunset sat on the bleachers in the corner, close together but feeling miles apart. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Twilight asked, hugging herself tighter. “I’m sorry. I wanted to, I just—” Sunset stared at her lap, twiddling her thumbs. “I didn’t want to tell you about how awful I used to be.” Twilight raised a brow, but wouldn’t look at her. “What do you mean, ‘awful?’” “What kind of person casts a spell to create a monster whose only purpose is to hurt people? An awful person.” Sunset nodded at the gym’s opposite wall, where none of the brickwork seemed to match. “It’s only been a year since everyone saw me go crazy and destroy the school. Everyone but you. I don’t want you to ever see that part of me.” “That was a year ago. The mistakes you’ve made are in the past.” “The Marabunta wasn’t. That’s a mistake I was still paying for in the present. I’ve caused a lot of problems for people, Twi.” “Maybe you have.” This time, Twilight grabbed Sunset’s hand. “But we all cause problems sometimes! What’s important is that you try to fix the problem! And it sounds like that’s what you did.” Sunset chuckled softly. “Yeah. It seems like I fix those sorts of problems a lot.” “You don’t have to fix them alone.” Twilight tightened her grip. “I don’t care about what you used to be. I care about what you are — and I just want to see you safe.” Their eyes met, and they shared a smile. Then with both arms, Sunset pulled Twilight into a hug. Sunset buried her face into Twilight’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for not telling you what was going on. It was really stupid of me.” “Yes, it was.” Twilight laughed and rubbed Sunset’s back. “But you look lovely tonight, so I’ll forgive you.” The two pulled away—then Twilight’s eyes sharpened back into a glare. She poked a finger into Sunset’s chest. “That said, next time you shrink down in size to explore the inner machinations of someone’s psyche, I come along.” Sunset giggled. “Sure.” The music lulled, and from a few feet away came a new voice. “Okay, she’s smiling. I don’t think Twilight dumped her.” Twilight and Sunset looked up to find Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy heading towards them. Rainbow waved. “Are you two done arguing, or should we try again later?” “Nah, we’re done,” Sunset said. She flicked a glance at Twilight. “We are done, right?” “For now,” Twilight said with a smirk. She turned to Rainbow and Fluttershy. “Hey, you two. Thanks for helping Sunset out.” Fluttershy gasped. “Oh, Sunset told you? And you’re not mad?” “I’m still a bit peeved that you didn’t take me along to study this rare creature,” Twilight said, “but I understand.” “That’s good,” Rainbow said, rubbing the back of her head. “I’ve had a lot of friends mad at me lately. It’s not fun.” “No, it’s not,” Sunset murmured. She and Rainbow locked eyes for just a moment, but it felt like a whole conversation. It turned out that letting someone pick your brain—literally—did wonders for strengthening a relationship. Speaking of which... Sunset took her girlfriend’s hand again. “Uh, Twi... would you mind if Rainbow and I talked for a sec?” Twilight raised a brow. “Excluding me again, I see.” “No, no, it’s just—” “I’m kidding.” Twilight stood up and stretched. “Besides, if I’m seeing right, I just saw Pinkie Pie get her head stuck in the lemonade pitcher. I’ll be back—no magic while I’m gone.” Sunset held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.” Twilight scoffed. “There is no way you were a Girl Scout.” “You’re right—I was a Filly Scout,” said Sunset with a nod. “They have those?” Fluttershy asked, eyes widening. Twilight rolled her eyes, but snickered as she walked away. That left Rainbow and Fluttershy to sit down next to Sunset. Rainbow knocked her knees together like a nervous tic, and she seemed to look everywhere but Sunset’s face. After a too long silence, Sunset tried, “So, how have you been—” “I’m sorry. Again.” Rainbow knocked her knees faster. “I went into your thoughts when I shouldn’t have, and nearly got us killed. It was wrong, it sucked so hard, and I’m sorry. I mean that.” “Oh.” Sunset blinked. “Thanks.” “I know I always say sorry, and I never change.” Rainbow bit her lip. “I just assume that everyone will forgive me, and I don’t care. So I’m sorry for all the times I’ve said something stupid, or knocked into you, or teased you, or—” Sunset held up her hands. “Rainbow, stop!” Rainbow moved her mouth wordlessly for a few seconds, then stopped and looked to Sunset. “I accept your apology. But it’s not true that you don’t care—of course you care! You came into my head to help me confront my demons, you pushed me out of the way of the Marabunta. Fluttershy even told me about how you helped her fix her birdhouse!” Fluttershy smiled. “It has lightning bolts on it now.” “But I was the one who broke it in the first place!” Rainbow yelped. “All I do is cause problems.” Sunset sighed. “It’s true, you can be reckless and impulsive. And there’s stuff you can improve on, sure.” She laid a hand on Rainbow’s shoulder. “But don’t start hating yourself. You don’t need to become some perfect person. Admit your flaws, but don’t start hating yourself, hating everything you’ve ever done. That’s how you end up like me, lying to everyone about your feelings because you’re scared they won’t like you.” Rainbow opened her mouth like she was about to argue, but instead just nodded. “So let’s try this again,” said Sunset. “Without the self-hatred.” Rainbow took in a deep breath. “I need to be more considerate, I guess. I need to slow down, start thinking before I speak or act. It’ll probably keep me out of a lot of trouble.” “That’s better.” “But is that it?” said Rainbow, turning to Sunset. “I screwed up. I want to make it up to you!” “Well...” Sunset paused to think. Then, in a low voice, she said, “I always say that I’ve moved on from my past, but it still controls me. I’m so scared of repeating my mistakes that I close people off, lie to them, just so I never let them down. But that’s a mistake. People are close to me because they like me, not some paragon of perfection.” Sunset took Rainbow’s hand in hers. “You showed me that. You and the girls forgave me for all the bad things I did, all the evil I had in me. I need to start loving myself like you all love me.” Rainbow frowned. “Okay, but what does that have to do with me?” “Someone once told me that what matters the most is that you try to fix the problems you’ve caused.” Sunset grinned. “You wanna make things up to me? How about this: You try to be more considerate, and I’ll try to stop being so ashamed of my past. Deal?” “That’s it? I thought I was gonna have to do your homework or something,” Rainbow said. But she still shook hands with Sunset. “Deal.” Fluttershy let out a long, shuddering breath. “Oh, thank goodness you two made up. I can’t handle all this interpersonal drama!” Sunset and Rainbow shared a giggle—until Sunset glanced over at the opposite end of the gym, and her face went white. “Oh, crap, now Twilight’s stuck in the pitcher too. Be right back!” She jumped up and sprinted away. Rainbow watched her go, beaming. “So.” Fluttershy tapped her chin. “How do you feel?” “How do I feel? I got friendship advice from Sunset Shimmer! That’s enough to make you a Princess in some places!” Rainbow threw her arms out wide. “I’m a new woman!” She froze, however, when Fluttershy caught her left hand—just an inch away from smacking Fluttershy in the eye. Rainbow cringed away. “Oh, uh... sorry.” Fluttershy sighed. “It’s alright.” “Damn.” Rainbow scratched her head. “This is gonna take longer than I thought.”
