Who Are You? (The ?Displaced? Story)

by TheDawgKing

Rating: mature
Tags: Profanity, Violence, Death, Lyra, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 5772

Same universe as Fallout 3questria. Events happen before events of Fo3.

Today’s the day. Scribbles has finally got that meeting that he’s wanted with the woman who so few people know about. What will he ask? So many questions about her culture that could shed light on the little known about Displaced.

But everything is not as it seems. The area she told him to meet her was a solid wall on the very edge of town in an alleyway. Something definitely seemed off about it but Scribbles had no time to think as a hand reached out from the concrete wall and pulled him through.

More questions raced through his mind than he thought a year’s worth of talking could answer. But the biggest one was, Why am I staring a small equine mare in the face, and why do I appear to be equine as well?

Published 2018-04-21 07:40:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-04-28 02:02:13 UTC

First Encounters

I looked around the room for a moment still confused as to how I had been pulled through a solid concrete wall. Had there been a door that was just very well hidden. A quick look around revealed no doors into the room from the direction I had entered.

“You’ll find no doorway. At least not one you can go through by yourself.” The mare stared into my eyes. “Know I believe you had some questions for me? Something about who we are and what we do?”

I nodded still looking around the room. After a few seconds I realized my rudeness and bowed my head in apology. “Sorry about that. Just getting used to this…” I paused looking for something not offensive to say. “New scenery I suppose. Where are we by the way. It’s always good to know the place a new culture calls home.” I reached for my notepad, but to no avail.

The mare whistled at me. ‘Amazing. You wouldn’t think that she’d be able to whistle.’ “Looking for this?” She held up my notepad for a second before tossing it my way.

I reached out to grab the object with my hands… ‘I suppose Hooves since I was a horse at the time.’ But failed to grab the object as it fell.

The mare laughed at me for a few seconds. “You could pick it up with your mouth…” She paused as if studying my response just as much as I was studying hers. Sigh, “Or you could reach out with the magic you’ve acquired.”

I looked at the mirror she held in front of me. I had a small horn protruding from the top of my skull. “I’m a Unicorn? Am I on some sort of hallucinogen right now? Cause none of this should be possible.”

She sighed, “Just think about reaching out for the pad like you would with hands. It might take a minute or two to get used to but you should have good control. And no we don’t drug people when we drag them in here. That’s a side effect that we haven’t decided to stop. Too many creatures freak out and do crazy things when dragged in here. The effect should wear off in a minute and you’ll be able to see clearly.

I did as instructed reaching out for my pad and pen. Surprisingly the horn lit up and brought the objects closer to me. I scooped them up and sat back down, flipping through my notepad until I got to a clean page. “Excuse me for my rudeness, but what should I call you? You never properly introduced yourself when we last met.”

She nodded. “Didn’t have a bunch of time to sit and talk that day. But you can call me Lyra, Lyra Heartstrings. And I know that sounds weird but it’s the name I prefer to go by.”

I wrote the name, date and ‘time I suppose since there was no clock’ down before stopping. “Ok. So I’d like to start off with just a few questions about your culture. Like what roles do you all play in society. More specifically you for the time being.”

Lyra nodded and looked around thoughtfully. “Well we do a lot of things. In terms like your thinking everybody can play any role in our society. Gender does not determine our authority over matters that we can control. In fact two of the more well known and more respected Displaced are actually female. But we also have males who do just as much of the heavy lifting to keep us going.” She paused. “But in terms of jobs we play all sorts of roles. Diplomats, Presidents, Generals. Any job you can think of at least one of of does currently and probably all of us have dabbled in the past.”

I scribbled furiously to try and get this all down. “Diplomats you say? I would have guessed some of you, but all of you?”

“Every single one of us has played the role of diplomat. We often still do.” Lyra paused before giving me a devilish grin. “We must when there are so many worlds in so many universes to make peace with.”

I stopped writing and read over what she had just said about ten times before looking up at her aghast. “What?”

“Oh right. The multiverse theory doesn’t really live in your universe does it?” She sighed. “My apologies I forgot not all of your species know that much about us or haven’t delved deep enough into the sciences to develop that theory.”

I was about to speak but Lyra cut me off.

“Basically the theory states there are an infinite number of timelines existing all at once. Each choice that is made spawns a new universe. The theory has some good points to it but doesn’t quite represent the actual state of things, for if that were true there would be millions of me’s walking around. And while that sounds like a fun time, that would me I’d no longer be a displaced, know would it?”

Scribbles looked at Lyra slightly confused. “What do you mean, not a displaced?”

She stared at him for a few seconds evaluating. “We are unique. Only one or two versions of a displaced exist at one given time. That is if they are true displaced.” Lyra paused for a moment. “Everybody is a displaced in some form of the word. If a version of you dies in one world, the remaining living versions are all displaced to that world. They no longer belong and thusly can travel independently to that world unless another of themselves has already gone to that world. This can lead to many disappearances and miraculous recovery from death.”

He nodded. “So that might explain why a few men went missing the other day. That’s quite intriguing.” The page filled with words and was flipped as new words were scribbled down. “Have you seen those people? I know a few families who would like to see their family members again.”

Lyra shook her head. “I’m not in charge of stuff like that. Other displaced might have found them and be getting ready to send them home after wiping their memories. We can’t have them knowing about other worlds. Too many times wars have started that people have waged through the pocket worlds.”

“Pocket worlds? Is that like the place we are right now? Are there more of them?” He stopped scribbling for a second. “And how many wars have been waged through them?”

Lyra sighed. “Too many wars have been fought through our worlds. Thousands on thousands of people slaughtered for no reason other than the greed of those who learned our secrets.” Her tone shifted as she began to smile. “But there are millions of pocket worlds that have not been touched by people like them. But the pocket worlds are near infinite as are the worlds we protect.”

“Protect? I thought you simply acted as diplomats between worlds, not as protectors. So like soldiers with guns and grenades and the like?” Scribbles flipped to another clean page.

Lyra nodded then shook her head. “The worlds I watch over, Yes. Other Displaced often times use the weapons of the time period in the world which they are protecting. Others simply enjoy bladed or blunt weapons that they will carry with them from world to world.”

Scribbles waited considering his words carefully. “When do you choose to protect these worlds? Is it just when you feel like it or is it like a full time job?”

Lyra smiled politely, taking this stallion’s ignorance in tow. “It’s more like a full time job. But instead of like 40 hour weeks we work more like a couple hundred hour weeks. Since time bends to our will in the pocket worlds we can choose to and often do slow time to mere nanoseconds pass outside as hours if not days pass in here. This can mean we get weeks off without trouble ever arising. But once something does happen we alpha strike it as hard as absolutely possible. Nothing escapes the wrath of a displaced and that is why you don’t get on the bad side of any one displaced.”

Scribbles face turned dark. Realizing what had just been said. “So are there Displaced more hostile and,” Gulp, “Willing to kill those who cross them?”

“Well most of us have been trained not to be so volatile towards those that cross us, but we do get our revenge on those who wrong us.” She paused. “Although we are slow to anger but very quick to act once you piss us off.”

“Is there a hierarchy to the displaced? Like a ranking system to determine who is the most respected and most important?” The notebook was nearing its final page that could be used for notes.

Noise alerted both present to the presence of another displaced. “General? That you?”

A flash of grey brown circled by at lightning speed leaving behind only a piece of paper. Lyra picked it up. “The General sends her regards.” The note was discarded along with any hope of Scribbles obtaining any information. “That was one of the most highly respected Displaced. The General as she is called to those who don’t know her is one of the most badass motherfuckers you will ever meet. Her revenge is swift and deadly. Pray to whatever god you believe in that you never cross her path if she’s pissed off. As for hierarchy, we do have one. Some of us judge it differently. Some races judge you by home much you can drink before passing out, others by the quality of warrior you are.”

Scribbles interrupted. “But what about the absolute leaders of the Displaced? Other Displaced judge you differently but what about those who are the beginning of the Displaced? Your leaders?”

Lyra grabbed the notebook in her magic. “You don’t have enough room left for this next conversation. I’d suggest bringing a couple of clean notebooks before you return.”

Scribbles grabbed his notebook and stood up. “How long has it been outside in my world?”

Lyra pushed him towards a door. “A minute or so has passed. I’ll meet you at the same spot tomorrow. Don’t be late, I hate people who are intentionally late.”

Hierarchy

The day had passed quickly and Scribbles had several notebooks with him today. He hoped it would be enough room for the information Lyra was about to lay upon him. The watch he wore read the exact time he was supposed to be here.

“Huh. She said not to be late I wonder where she’s AAAA” His scream was cut off as the hand pulled him into the pocket world.

Lyra was awaiting Scribbles in the same place as yesterday. “Sit down we’ve got a lot to discuss today if we ever want to get you out on the market with your one of a kind knowledge. So let me just think where we stopped yesterday. Ah yes our hierarchy.”

Scribble nodded getting to work on the first notebook he brought. “Yes. I’ve got more questions for you but I’d like to know who you call your leaders.”

Lyra put a hoof to her muzzle in deep thought. “Our leaders are mysterious, they choose to make appearances at random and we see effects of there original ideas everyday. What do you think of the color pink?”

Scribbles pulled out a pink pen. “I enjoy the color. It makes things stand out when I need them to.”

Lyra managed a small laugh. “A glossy pink. Not exactly what I was going for but it will do for now. Pink is the color that one of the original Displaced made. She was more of the nature and colors sort of constructor. After most of the colors were made she discovered one of the best colors in her opinion. Pink, the most perfect and beautiful color. That is why after sometime of searching over the other two originals creations she discovered the one that was to be imbued with special magic. The resulting pony was Pinkie Pie. Which means nothing to you but know she has played many important roles over the several hundred lifespans that her magic has been around for. She was the equine creator of pocket worlds and opened the universe up to many new possibilities for Displaced. New trade centers, a new design to these worlds, and technicolor ponies that didn’t fit in made for one hell of a combo.”

Scribbles had already run through about a quarter of the first notebook. “Several hundred lifetimes? And what special magic was she given?”

Lyra nodded her head for a few seconds. “Ever since the color was discovered and given to ponies Pinkie has lived. Everytime one version of her dies the power is passed on to the next pony who the… I suppose Goddess chooses. And the ability is something that all displaced have. The ability to move in between worlds at will with no resistance. She also has the ability to pull objects out of thin air. That’s what it looks like to anypony watching her. She’ll just pull random things out of nowhere and act like it’s natural for ponies to do that. And there is no limit to the size or quantity of objects she can pull. At least not that we have discovered after our years upon years of testing.”

Scribbles nodded listening intently. “Where does she pull all of these objects out of then? One cannot simply pull something out of nothing. That goes against all laws of nature.”

Lyra laughed for a solid minute. “Let me tell you something your scientific greatness, Pinkie Pie don’t give a fuck about any of the fucking rules of thermodynamics or goddamn nature for that matter. She’ll reverse the flow of gravity or shift other ponies bodies into masses that make no sense. There is no logic when it comes to her and that’s why the goddess never intended for there to be more than one of her in existence at any time, but shit happens and we get a million and one versions of Pinkie Pie that we can’t control.”

Scribbles backed away slightly. “So why not just ask this so called goddess to get rid of her? If she’s got as much power as I’m led to believe, wiping something from existence should be as easy as vocalizing your wish.”

Lyra looked deep into his eyes. “She’s too powerful to be erased. Erasing somepony from the minds of all those who knew her would be one thing and it would be easy if she was the only one to ever exist. However, there have been millions of versions of Pinkie and they only grow stronger with each iteration. Maybe ten to twenty thousand years ago something could have been done. But now? Shit, we’d be lucky to make everyone in a single world forget that just one of her had existed. And even then those results might last for a day before Pinkie would be back again.” She breathed deeply to calm down. “Other than her there were two other original Displaced. One male, and one who kept to itself, unknown how he identified. The first of the two created creatures of violence. Humans being one of the more violent races created. He was known to be a malevolent evil Displaced. As such he and some of his creations are not allowed to inter mix with the other Displaced.”

With that the first of three notebooks was set aside and a fresh one was opened. “Humans are among the most violent? I know we’ve had some wars and lots of disputes but I wouldn’t think us to be that bad. Could you further explain that? Maybe give reference to some of the more violent and least violent races?”

Lyra gave a little nod. “The violence level is measured as you’d expect. Wars and other conflicts do put you higher on the list, but it’s not what defines a race’s level of violence. Humans unlike other sentient creatures have a natural tendency towards conflict. Not due to the lifestyles they live or the goods they possess. No, humans are naturally violent and drawn to bloodshed. It’s the natural order of your species to be that way. But don’t worry, a few races out do humans in violence by a large margin. Ghengosias Kansias, are the most violent of all known races that possess the power of Displaced. And yes, I known that sounds more scientific than other race names but it’s all we’ve had to work with in trying to make peace with them. Even our top tier agents who are able to learn near instantaneously about any race have had difficulties fitting in and getting new knowledge. These creatures often tear eachother limb from limb for sport and do not care whether or not it is young or old that they tear to shreds.”

Scribbles nodded slowly writing to make sure he got every word. “They tear their young into pieces? How do they survive then?”

“The young have ample ability to regenerate limbs they lose, often doing so within minutes if not seconds of the original wound. Not to mention they have other practices that are less than savory to say the least. You do not want to see what they do as rituals for mating or what the newly born must endure in their first day if they are to be kept on the planet.” She shook her head gagging at the thoughts. “But among the most peaceful are my kind. But even we are not perfect. Worlds beyond those doors lead to equine worlds ravaged by the pony equivalent of nuclear detonations across the country. Other’s have simply been erased from our jurisdiction as they are too dangerous even for our multiple bodies to deal with.”

“Other bodies?” Scribbles took a second to process that.

“Yes, we have many bodies that we inhabit. It’s not like one body can suit us for all the worlds we enter. As such, the pocket worlds create bodies for us and store them when they are not in use. For example, my human body is stored in the space between your world and this pocket world. And this body will be stored there when I travel back into your world for business.” Lyra stopped to listen. “Thought I heard somepony enter. Must have been my imagination. Either way we have near infinite bodies as they deteriorate over time just like yours does. We can’t keep a body fresh forever. Our minds however are able to withstand the test of time.”

Scribbles held up a hoof. “So you’re telling me that your mind can last forever?” A nod was his response. “So forgive me for being so rude as to ask this but, How old are you?”

Lyra laughed. “I figured that would be a question you would ask first. Well, lets see. If it’s 2015 in your world, take into account the years I’ve spent in this place.” She shrugged. “Best guess on this body is about 32. Overall is a hard number to get at seeing as time here plays weirdly with time outside. The number’s problem in the high hundreds of thousands if not the low millions of years.”

Scribbles’ jaw dropped open. That amount of time to live was incomprehensible for anybody. “A million years old? That’s impossible! There is no way scientifically possible that your brain let alone a couple of bodies could sustain you for that long.”

Lyra put a hoof to his mouth silencing him. “Displaced don’t play by normal scientific rules. Hell the pocket world your in doesn’t even exist in space or time if you want to think about it that way. We exist outside of your universe, in a place where nothing exists except the walls that stop us from floating around out there.” A tear rolled down her face. “Don’t you see? It’s lonely out here. We don’t get to make the meaningful relationships that you all do. If we’re lucky we meet someone who is immortal so that we can bring them here and be happy. Our lives might be long but they sure as hell aren’t worth living sometimes. God, it’s like you don’t even understand what I’m saying. You can’t understand it. I live in a world where your universe could explode if I sat here long enough. And I have to spend this eternity alone, by myself with maybe one or two other Displaced to fill the void in my life. Why do you think we drink so much? We’ve got nothing else to fill our meaningless lives with. We drink to forget about all those who we’ve cared about and seen die. There isn’t an alcohol strong enough or enough of it to make you forget that many people that you loved dying and leaving you.” Her breathing was erratic and unstable.

Scribbles had shrunk back and had been waiting for the onslaught of words to stop. “I’m sorry. I didn’t….. I didn’t know.” He got out of his chair to leave.

A golden aura forced him back into his chair. “No. You came for an interview with a Displaced, and I’ll be damned if I let another one slip through my grasp. I have too much to say and too many memories to relive for you to leave now and not come back.”

Scribbles nodded. “You can continue when you’re ready. I’m in no hurry to be done with this.”

“Good because you’re not leaving here until I say so. Now then, what’s your next question?” Lyra took slow deep breaths to calm herself down.

“I suppose I have question about the other displaced. Namely those who are highly respected amongst you all.” Scribbles kept at the ready for another outburst.

Lyra took a minute before speaking. This time having returned to her original state. “Many Displaced are of high social ranking. The one who you most likely have heard of is The General. She is by far one of the most respected advisors in all of the pocket dimension. She is known to be the fastest of all of us and makes problems that most displaced would think about for weeks before tackling seem easy as she cleans the mess up in minutes if not quicker. Her mind is sharp as are her blades. As for her actual name? I’m not one hundred percent sure the name she goes by in human form. We just call her Derpy.”

Scribbles wrote the name down and circled it. “An interesting name for someone of such high social respect. Most people I know would think it rude to call someone you respected that. But I suppose it carries a different meaning in the world from which she originates.”

Lyra nodded giving a smile. “Now you’re getting it. We aren’t a simple singular culture like I think you were lead to believe. So many influences from so many different worlds makes for one hell of a place when you put it all together. Which reminds me.” She pulled up a bottle and uncorked it. “Been a while since I had a drink of this stuff.” After a few swigs off the bottle she offered it to Scribbles.

Scribbles sat there staring for a moment. “I need a clear mind to be able to think through all of this. Otherwise I would definitely have a drink.”

Lyra shrugged and chugged the rest down. “That’s better.” Her eyes began to sway as did she. “Know what were we talking about? Oh yeah, the Displaced.” She laughed and then hiccupped. “Man that’s stronger than I remember.” She fell asleep before continuing.

Scribbles closed his notebook. “Tomorrow I suppose.” He sighed. “And that’s why you don’t drink during an interview. Shit like this happens. Oh well. I’ll be back tomorrow for more anyways.”

Acquaintances

What was it going to be today? Was a hand going to pull him through the wall or was she going to be waiting outside today?

Neither of Scribbles’ guesses were correct. Today an actually doorway had been erected where he had been told to go yesterday. And surprisingly it opened as Scribbles approached. “That’s a lovely new feature. How has no one else come through that yet? Invisible to the human eye except mine? Or, or maybe I’ve been granted clearance into this world.”

Lyra laughed. “Nope. Nobody ever goes to that specific alleyway. You’re literally the only person who I’ve seen walk up there. Not even the drug dealers or other sketchy business people walk in there.”

“You can watch as people walk around out there? How exactly might I ask?” Scribbles opened his notebook and was ready to take notes.

“Well cameras that are invisible to your eyes for seeing what comes up and down the street. And as for the alleyway. I can see through the door to your world. It’s a bit freaky when you first discover you’ve got that ability. Sometimes a random chunk of what should be a wall is missing. Messes with new Displaced and is a pretty good prank to pull on them.” Lyra looked around. “I brought a new Displaced in with me today, I hope you don’t mind.”

Scribbles shook his head. “Another point of view might help to shed some light on this in a way I can more easily understand. Not to sound harsh or anything but you’re explanations have a way of going over my head. So much knowledge about the subject and so little space to right it down is not the way I had imagined this going. Not to mention if this new Displaced is fresh, they’ll not know too much and can provide a good explanation of what the initial feeling is like.”

A new mare trotted up looking around the room. “This is really cool.” She did a double take on the stallion sitting before her. “Who is he? Lyra, I thought you said we were going to be alone while I learned more about this place.”

Lyra shook her head. “Fret not BonBon. He’s an anthropologist. He’s here to learn more about the Displaced just as you are. And he has a few questions for you if you’d be willing to answer them.”

This new mare possessed neither wings nor a horn. She looked like she knew relatively little about all this and had a look of concern plastered on her face. “Well I suppose I could answer a question or two for you. What’s your name?”

Scribbles sat up. “My apologies for my rudeness. My name is Scribbles. Like Lyra said I’m an anthropologist seeking answers about your culture. I’d like to know what it felt like when you first figured out you were Displaced?”

BonBon pulled up a chair and sat down. “Well, I was a little shocked to say the least. I was walking along the other day through Ponyville when I noticed a strange grey patch where one shouldn’t have been. Upon further inspection it looked like a room like this one. But as I went to move to the side of the small patch it disappeared completely from sight. I was confused, so I went back around and saw that it was indeed still there and I wasn’t hallucinating. So I tenderly put a hoof up to the strange area and nearly shrieked in panic as my hoof went through it. I’d never seen anything like it. So I pulled my hoof back and stared into the room. When Lyra stepped in front of the door. She looked at me as I looked at her. She waved to see if i was actually able to see her. I waved back and took a step forward. After a few seconds she reached out through the door. I backed away not knowing what her intentions were. But after reassuring me she was just trying to help me out with my new ability I trotted into the door.”

Scribbles kept writing for a minute or so before stopping. “That’s quite intriguing. Good information to know as well. Maybe we’ll be able to spot a new Displaced when something like that happens.”

Lyra laughed. “You’ll have to try extremely hard to find them before we do. It wasn’t an accident that BonBon here saw the pocket world that she saw. I was assigned to bring her here so that she could be trained. Not one pony from her world saw her go missing. As far as they know, until she returns, BonBon never existed to them.”

“WHAT!?!” Both Scribbles and BonBon were in unison.

Lyra jumped slightly. “Sorry I forgot to mention that. But it is a temporary effect until we get you settled into the Displaced lifestyle. After that you can exist in any world that you so choose. If you want we can even set it up so your home world is the one that you can spend your time in until you’re needed to protect some world. It’s a temporary mind erasing magic of sorts. Anybody that knew you now has never heard of you in their life, that is until you return home. After that you will be transmitted into everybody's minds across every known universe. No matter what species you would be on that planet they’ll have memories of your birth, childhood, schooling. People will remember you as a friend, claim they dated and even slept with you. Not a one of them is lying. They have those memories because we plant them there. But in truth none of that has really happened. You’ve only lived your life and now you’ve got a new life to live.”

BonBon looked at Scribbles to make sure she was hearing this right. “You’re telling me that you can do that!?! That’s actually incredible.” Her eyes lit up with joy. “So technically I’ve lived so many lives that I’ve likely done everything that is possible to do.”

Lyra looked surprised that BonBon responded that way. “Yes…. And technically you can do all those things if you so wish. You’ve got the rest of time to explore the multiverse and do whatever you please. Within the realm of possibility and the laws of the Displaced of course.”

BonBon pouted. “There are laws that I have to follow? But I thought being an almost all powerful Displaced was supposed to put me above the laws of reality. Like I thought you said we can inverse gravity if we wanted to?”

Lyra rubbed the back of her head. “I mean technically we can invert the flow of gravity or just manipulate it so that we can fly without wings, or hit the ground from several thousand feet up and not get scratched. Laws of reality don’t have to apply to us. But we do have rules in the Displaced. We aren’t allowed to do certain things. That’s just how we maintain the balance of power not only in the pocket worlds, but in every other world that exists. If we don’t do those things the entire multiverse could collapse and things could be very bad, not just for us either. If things escalate that much some Displaced have promised to destroy all the pocket worlds. That much matter being destroyed at once does one thing and one thing only. Interdimensional black holes.”

Scribbles interrupted. “OK SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!!!” He took a deep breath. “Take a deep breath and chill. None of that is going to happen. Just calm down and explain the rules to BonBon over there.”

BonBon looked at Lyra. “I didn’t realize that much could happen if we didn’t follow the rules. I really don’t want to destroy the multiverse. So I’ll just wait until I’ve learned the rules to start doing anything of importance.”

Lyra shook her head. “Sorry about that outburst BonBon. It’s been a while since I had so proper company. Scribbles hasn’t been doing this for very long after all. I’m just not used to one; having people here and two; having somepony that I’m supposed to mentor. Back home I was a prankster. I didn’t really have a job that I was supposed to do. Everything was so simple back then. But now, I’ve got to deal with all these rules and the fact that this body isn’t the one I was born with.” She rocked back and forth in her chair. “It’s just a lot to handle sometimes. Especially alone.”

BonBon cocked her head to the side and her eyes lit up with realization. “I know you. I knew that you looked familiar. You’re that one mare I used to hang out with when I was a little younger. We played pranks on everyone and we had something special going on between us. Then you left.”

Lyra stopped for a moment. “I. I knew from that point on I wanted you to be Displaced. I had seen some of the signs but wasn’t sure. I couldn’t be sure about it. I had to leave to watch from a distance just in case you weren’t really displaced. It was the one assignment that really made me happy. Spending that time with you kept me sane and gave me hope. I was so happy to spend so quality time with somepony.”

BonBon looked deep into Lyra’s eyes. “Well miss Heartstrings I think you’ve got more than just a little time to spend with me.” With that she kissed Lyra.

Lyra’s eyes lit up with genuine happiness. Something that hadn’t been seen in her eyes for years. “I’m so sorry I had to leave you there. I didn’t want to but the brainiacs in the recruits department. Didn’t want me screwing around in a world for that long unless I could provide concrete evidence that you were Displaced. I didn’t want to leave you there for all those years alone. I knew you belonged here. Even if you weren’t Displaced, I wanted you by my side through everything.” Lyra hugged BonBon letting the tears roll down her face.

“It’s okay. I’m here now and I’m not planning on leaving your side anytime soon. Now why don’t we just do some catching up.” She started to escort Lyra away. “Come back tomorrow Scribbles I’m sure after a night’s rest and talking she’ll be ready to answer more questions.”