Don't Look at the Fog

by SpitFlame

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Horror, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 13336

Twilight wakes up one day to find that things are different. Everypony is gone, and there's a persistent sheet of fog dominating all of Ponyville. But that's the least of her worries. It only escalates from there.

Twilight wakes up one day to very strange circumstances. Everypony is gone. It's always night time. An oppressive, heavy sheet of fog dominates every corner of Ponyville.

And an insufferable headache won't leave her alone. But that's the least of her worries.

Proof-reader: 0_0

Featured on Equestria Daily.

Published 2018-07-22 04:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-07-22 04:10:01 UTC

Don't Look at the Fog

"Twilight, hun, you okay?" asked Applejack.

Twilight was in a distracted mood. She and her friends were waiting in Sugarcube Corner, and it was a Sunday afternoon. The only voice Twilight could comprehend in that instance was that of her consciousness. It was like inertia—at moments the whole world would become secondary, and she'd be pulled into some mental flow of vague thoughts.

"You think she's sleeping again?" added Fluttershy, concern in her voice.

"What?" said Twilight suddenly, staring point-blank at whoever addressed her. Oh right, her friends.

"You sure you're not sleep-deprived, Twi?" commented Rainbow Dash, arching an eyebrow. "You've been doing that all day."

"Doing... doing what?" asked Twilight vaguely, still not quite understanding what was going on.

"Well, it's jus'..." began Applejack, but paused, weighing her words. "Every once in a while ya just... forget everthin', jus' like that."

Their faces looked strangely foggy. She could still make them out, but something about their features felt distant and as if unfamiliar. But that was probably just her.

With each new thought the cloudiness of her head vanished. She was recollecting herself.

"Come now, dear," said Rarity, gently nosing Twilight to raise her head from the table, "it was your idea to have Pinkie Pie prepare the midnight snacks. You hastened us all to meet here. Remember?"

"I'm sorry, Rarity," replied Twilight glumly, involuntarily setting her sight on the large pink box Pinkie was just finishing wrapping up. "Lost my train of thought. That's all."

"Weeeeell," drawled Pinkie, gesturing with a hoof, "you did go all caput when I tried to show you my new Filly Frenzy party canon I made for the Cakes. Ooh, do you remember that? Your face was all like 'what?' and I was all like, 'Don't you remember? I told you, like, ten minutes ago.' And—"

"We get it, Pinkie," said Rainbow dryly.

Why so much talk about "remembering" and "forgetting"? It wasn't like Twilight hit her head on a rock and lost her memories. She was just experiencing... a bit of a fever. Probably.

"I do that?" she asked, not fully understanding what she was being told. She rubbed her head, and at last she heaved a long, deep sigh. "I'm sorry, girls. I've been looking into a new mathematical theorem, it's taken a while for me to... well, much longer than usual, anyway. I don't know what, but something's been bugging me. I just can't place my hoof on it." She paused, and her eyes fell back down. "Sorry. If I'm spacing out it's probably just a cold."

"A cold? Darling, why didn't you just say so?" said Rarity sternly. "Rainbow Dash, be so good as to get Twilight here a glass of water. That ought to freshen you up."

Rainbow nodded understandingly. "Already on it."

"Cupcakes are ready for take off!" chirped Pinkie. "Um, Twilight, you sure you're up for the comet thingy? I know it's your favorite astro-nom-something event, but if you can't make it, just know us gals are here for you!"

A glass of water was placed next to her. Rainbow Dash flashed her an amiable smile.

Twilight was about to say, "Thanks," but instead she shifted uncomfortably. Truth be told, she probably really was just catching a cold. Although, she began to reason, catching a cold doesn't exactly denote spontaneous short-term memory loss. Try as she might, she couldn't for the life of her figure out why she was in Sugarcube Corner. She was preoccupied with such a predicament, and without meaning to went along with whatever her friends told her.

Wait, no! She instantly became wholly conscious of this cloudiness in her head. She shot up, drank the water in a single gulp, and began wandering to the door, nearly knocking over the glass in doing so.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she nearly shouted, but realizing this she dropped her voice a touch. "Spike's still at the castle. I got some stuff to sort through."

Her friends all gazed inquiringly at her, especially Applejack, whose expression looked practically untrusting.

"Don't worry about me," Twilight went on, a faint smile appearing on her lips. "Meet me on the hillside. I'll be with you girls soon."

"Well... if ya say so," said Applejack.

"Don't forget!" Pinkie called out to her as she took off in an almost rude form of haste.

Right. Don't forget.

Don't forget.

* * *

Twilight remembered it. Sort of. What happened again? Come on, don't forget, don't forget. Oh yeah... She just got back from solving a friendship problem in Yakakistan; the map had sent her alongside Pinkie Pie.

Wait, no, things were blurring up again. That was long ago.

Or did she get back from helping Rarity advertise her new fashion line in Las Pegasus? She did something, something important. But not important enough to remember what exactly? Apparently.

She did recall getting back to her castle. Spike greeted her.

"How long has it been since I've gotten back?" she asked him.

"Huh? How long?"

"A week? Two weeks?"

"A... what? No, about seven hours. You left at nine, remember?" Spike was beside himself. "What do you mean, weeks?"

"Nothing, I just don't understand anymore," said Twilight with a large yawn. She was far too fatigued to keep this up.

"Twilight, I get what you're saying, but are you okay?"

"I'll talk later, Spike. This princess has got to hit the hay. Everything should come together in the morning. For now just, I dunno, go do what I told you to do."

"You sure you're okay, Twilight...?"

"I'm fine. We'll talk tomorrow morning."

"But 'morning' is in two hours."

That late? Twilight must have been getting ahead of herself. Wait, why was Spike up this late? He should've been asleep.

But, eh, all was decided. Bed first. She was tired. Couldn't think too much.

* * *

Twilight awoke in an instant. Her eyes sprang wide open, her lips shut tight like a thread. She remained still for almost an entire minute, eyes fixed on the ceiling. She felt like her thoughts were catching up to her, as though she needed to take the time to remember everything: where she was, who she was for Celestia's sake, and so on.

Yes, yes, it was that sort of moment where your brain momentarily fails you, and you have to catch yourself up to speed, which often happens when you reflect on your dreams immediately after waking up—"Wait, that was a dream, I'm now awake."

She was in her bed. This was her castle, in Ponyville. Strangely, she felt somehow surprised. But why? What was so surprising about waking up in your own bed? No, not surprised—startled!

Twilight heaved herself up, making a conscious effort to maintain her composure.

"Did I just...?" she murmured, perplexed. She shifted about in her sheets, casting a glance out her window. Still night time. Another glance at the clock atop her stool. Huh, all arrows pointed directly up. Midnight?

"That's weird," said Twilight in an undertone, but nevertheless shrugging and proceeding to find a more comfortable position to lie down. "I'm not tired. I don't feel tired. I guess Spike went t—"

Her jaws tightened at once; a burning, trembling, nerve-pulling sensation consumed her.

But there was nothing there! What was it!

She shot up once more, gripping her forehead with both hooves. Her brain was throbbing incessantly, as though razor blades were poking around in the temples.

"It... won't... stop," grunted Twilight; her left eye twitched involuntarily. She clumsily fell out of bed, struggling to get back on all fours. "Ow, ow! Stop!" she continued to blurt angrily to herself. The headache became worse for a few seconds, in which she couldn't even bring herself to speak; but finally it lowered to a dull irritation.

"Spike!" she called out, slowly raising her head, one hoof still on her temple, now cold with sweat. She wandered to her front door, attempting to open it with her magic, but the immediate response was another bout of pain, equally as intense as before; a hacksaw was cutting into the brain inside her skull, in between them like a canyon, back and forth, back and forth. Twilight had to bite down to prevent herself from screaming.

"I... I... darn it!" she said through gritted teeth. Her eyes stung, her stomach surged, she couldn't think properly. Whenever she tried to use magic—to even just think—another blade left a fine line across her brain. Eventually the pain died down once more, and Twilight collapsed on the floor, panting, desperate for control over her own body.

Slowly, very slowly, she trudged to her front door and manually opened it. It moved back—again, very slowly—till she was eyeing down the corridor.

Where in Equestria did this come from? She'd never had headaches this spontaneous before. She felt unbelievably lightheaded, like all the colour had drained from her face.

"Sp-ike," she said weakly this time. "I think I... I think I need some pills. Anything. Ugh." She blinked several times, as if coming to her senses. "It's so quiet. Too quiet and... Keep it together." She trotted down the hall, took a right turn down a wearyingly long flight of steps, and found herself in the castle's foyer.

The room was ponderously dark. So ominously dark, in fact, that it seemed to represent the vanquishing of all light. The heads of the pillars faded into shadows up above. Twilight had to come close to even remotely make out the dim outlines of the front double-door.

She was about to ignite her horn for illumination, but immediately decided against it. "No, no, please not again," she breathed, rubbing her forehead gently.

It was significantly silent. Not a single noise could be discerned. It was like the walls absorbed all traces of sound, and nothing could escape its grasp.

"But I don't understand," said Twilight in a sort of half-whisper. "Just yesterday I was..." She turned around, struggling to peer into the sable depths of the castle. "Spike! Starlight! Where are—" She winced, and she tried to suppress a shudder in her shoulders. Couldn't yell too loud. The damned head pains wouldn't allow for it.

"Come on, Twilight, think." She sat down on the floor, gnawing the tip of her hoof. "Yesterday I came back from—Baltimare? Las Pegasus? Or... no, can't be. I came home. Spike commented on my appearance..." Saying this, Twilight surveyed her own body up and down, taking nothing of note away from it. "I look alright enough. Maybe there's something wrong with my face? Wait." She stared searchingly at the double-door. Something beneath it just moved. A white gleam of some sort.

She rose to all fours and strode over to investigate. She looked down to spot not a gleam, but steady wisps of... smoke? She took a closer look, going so far as to prod it. It felt light. Not smoke. Mist? It was pattern-less, and had the wavy texture of spiderwebs streaming in through the small space. There was no system to it, no predictability; it comprised interweaving white lines that seemed to move independently from one another.

Twilight was decidedly dumbfounded. Creeped out, even. After realizing that she was, for all intents and purposes, the only pony left in this castle, she pushed the front doors wide open.

Every feature on her face felt like it froze for a moment. An endless number of those white, liquid fingers sluggishly invited themselves in, some wavering up in the air, while others spread outwards as much as possible. Twilight took several steps back, while simultaneously running through her mind this new fact. Not mist. Fog. Wait, fog? Just staring at the white vortex, that intangible mass—of those interlocking, contradicting constituent elements—it nearly left her in a stupor.

Twilight was fixed to the ground, and when it reached her, burying her under its infinite strangeness, a cold sensation ran up to her brain and blazed out, coldly, in her eyes. Cold. Coldly. Yes, this fog was cold, almost like she were in a fridge.

"Okay. Maybe I'm in a dream?" Twilight contemplated, and her eyes lit up. That would explain it. Yes, she wanted to believe in it. The supposed mysteriousness from this fog practically vanished, and her fear was replaced with a sort of amused contempt.

A half-hearted, weak smile twisted onto her lips. "Oh, that's it. I'm still sleeping comfortably in my bed. Ha, nothing to worry ab—ow! N-no, I... stop!" It felt like the blood in her face solidified, then shattered. She sensed the insides of her brain again—like a narrow canyon—a razor was placed in between, and it started moving.

"Grr! Grrrrrr!" Saliva sprayed from her mouth. This was by far the worst one yet. Some indomitable willpower—some incomprehensible surge—she couldn't understand it!—pushed her forward. Her vision was vibrating. Twilight forgot about Spike, about Starlight, about her present position; literally the only thing she wanted, more than anything in the entire world, was for this pain to cease.

She could barely feel her legs when she strode into the dizzying wall of fog. But when she did, Twilight's headache lagged behind all of a sudden, and then immediately it left her head.

She scrambled up, cheeks wet with tears. It was cold again, very much like ice. But the pain had stopped.

"I just can't..." she drawled in a weak patter, in order to get something out.

Where was she? Outside? Yes, this was the outdoors. It was just like a dream: everything looked insignificant, distant, abstract. The buildings of Ponyville, previously indistinct in their own charming way, were now distinguished, each somehow individually, by an extreme sullenness. The sky looked dead in its defining features: no stars, no clouds, and neither sun nor moon. The expressive entirety of the town—strangled within the edifice of the endless fog—faded away the further one stared. This wasn't a matter of mere distance; even by standing in the same spot, it looked as if the fog actively blocked your view from whatever it was you were focusing on.

"Oh, please, please, please," Twilight found herself saying rapidly, "don't tell me some other villain broke free. Just let this be a nightmare. Please, please."

She seized the opportunity to start walking, for no further delay, and began surveying the area. Some kind of mental, unmoving strain would not leave her be, and it increased her sense of isolation with each heavy step. She even looked behind her, vaguely expecting an attacker. But nothing.

Twilight was, so to speak, concerned that her reason—reason and logic of all things—would leave her, as it tended to do to ponies in such... unnatural situations. She'd become anxious, seeing as how this wasn't a dream, and that anxiety would spiral into even more anxiety; it would become a self-fulfilling cycle, creating an eclipse of reason and will power, as modern psychology would say, till she went stark, raving mad, with no more self-control than a beast. This loss of reason was like a disease, and sooner or later it'd get to her.

But no! Twilight hadn't lost her reason. No need to be concerned. She was still in full possession of her reason, and the clouding and dizziness had already ceased. Some slight trembling, but nothing to worry about. Twilight was attentive, apprehensive; she readily assumed a calculated air.

"Well. It won't do me any good to feel sorry for myself. No pony here but me. This block is deserted, so was the castle. Let's see... Sugarcube Corner is close by. Pinkie Pie? Only one way to find out."

Yes! She could still reason!

This declaration and some sudden, special thought about it seemed to have absorbed her entirely all at once; and, with a burst of renewed energy, Twilight decidedly set off at once, intending to get to the bottom of this mystery.

* * *

The solitary, ominously crooked structure of the bakery was rendered doubly ominous by the surrounding ocean of fog. As Twilight approached cautiously and uneasily (much to her surprise), the darkness about seemed to creep from every corner, as though the black, jagged shadows possessed a sort of latent sentience.

Somepony, or—something—could be hiding there, and she'd never know. It was too quiet—the slightest ruffle could indicate anything! Could that be important? The shadows were retreating, like they were reacting to her.

Could the shadows attack me? Twilight began to reason, but immediately came to her senses. Ah, what's wrong with me? Of course they can't!

No, no, her reason hadn't left her.

The front door swung open very easily. The outdoors was like something out of a horror novel, but the indoors was of immense contrast: the temperature flipped back to normal, and there was nothing disorienting to be seen. All the tables, chairs, stools, the register, silverware, whatever else—everything was set in perfectly expected order. Very routine observation. Nothing out of place.

"Pinkie Pie..." Twilight began calling out, but in a low voice, which echoed out unimpressively. Her eyes darted to behind the counter. She walked around and into the back room. Nothing there. She then walked up the stairway into Pinkie's bedroom. She was searching for something, anything, of significance, something vital to latch onto. But nope, none came.

Come on, seriously? You could hear that pony's high-pitched voice from a mile away, thought Twilight. It's too quiet here, can't even make out a... "rustle." G-good thing for that. So that must mean she's... gone? Just like everypony else? There's no way. I mean, is there?

Another sensation was beginning to nudge itself into Twilight. She recalled an intimation of it back at the castle, but forgot it just as quickly. When it dawned on her that Pinkie Pie was truly absent this sensation became more difficult to ignore, one which left her ears drooped low. But... forget it. Only if necessary. Twilight didn't want to prod her feelings too closely. There was something else, something to find.

But she couldn't come to terms with it.

"Just—where are you?" she said again.

But then, while walking back down the stairs she stopped, standing still in an almost superstitious alarm. Her heartbeats quickened excessively, her breath went away. And now a hammer was pounding a nail into the frontal part of her head. In a fit of desperation she clutched her forehead, making sure to not touch the horn, attempting with all her might to ignore the burning pain assaulting her.

No, no, no! swept through her mind. She so did not want to go through that again. It was too much.

While striding out the door she felt a wooden plank on the floor wobble in response to the weight of her hoof. In that split second she pressed downwards again, if only out of fleeting, morbid curiosity, and at once an entire section of the floor vanished. Twilight cried, both from the pain and from the shock of her plummet. She was, thankfully, caught in a winding path of what felt like a tube; it led her down in a spiral, and at last she landed down in a separate room altogether.

This one was much more cluttered than Pinkie's bedroom. Her mind was momentarily scrambled; she staggered forward a bit, unsure of anything; then a certain, instinctive sharpness returned to her vision.

"The party planning cave," she remarked in a low voice, a minute after having collected herself. She took a moment to look around. This secret place looked just as before, except... except that. "Huh?" Twilight ventured to the far end of the cave.

A large, circular table was awkwardly pressed against the corner, so that to sit you could only use what was left in the open space. No chairs to speak of either. She was convinced, perhaps, of the doubtless signs of wear and age which presented themselves almost too overtly. On top of the table was a big piece of paper, like a map of sorts, with many scribbles written out along the sides. A topographical sketch of Ponyville was there, too. Wait, so not "of sorts"; it was a map.

Twilight moved closer to inspect. Her friends' names were here, but on different points on the map. Several arrows, drawn with red marker, pointed south-west in unison. Directions to do something?—then meet back? A definite possibility.

"Can barely read this," huffed Twilight. "Looks like somepony was... setting up a course of action? It involved us. Why is this..." Twilight bent down slightly, unable to read the writing from her angle. She lifted a hoof to touch the map, wanting very much to touch it just once, just to confirm... something. She wasn't sure what. The moment she made contact, she gasped. Her eyes dilated, face went cold.

* * *

Where was she now? Wait, this happened to be the Castle of the Two Sisters. Stone, stone, and more stone. Pillars and ancient banners. It was a mess.

"Y'all ready for this?"

Applejack? Wait, yes, Applejack! She found somepony.

But why couldn't she say anything? Try as she might, Twilight couldn't get a word out. She was stuck there like a stump, as if in a dream.

"Mhmm," the others hummed in agreement. No. Not agreement? No again. They definitely were agreeing to something. Reluctance?

She could only watch, reasoning to herself, as it were, that none of this was necessarily real.

Then she saw it.

Twilight—herself—was standing on the top of the main stairway, in the castle's foyer, amid the massive bookshelves. The ceiling was gone, shattered and turned to dust, presumably. Darkness arose on all sides of the room. The moon's silver light was barely breaking through.

Wait, there, there! That fog! That same cold, dense fog was up to their knees, spread across the floor, nearly swallowing the room whole.

"Thank you. You all mean the world to me," she heard herself say. But there was very little, if any, gravity behind those words. She was even almost stuttering to get it out. Only then it came as a melancholy realization.

Everypony was utterly exhausted, nearly to the breaking point. Rainbow, Rarity, Pinkie, Fluttershy, Applejack—they each had dreary, dark bags under their otherwise attractive eyes. Their faces betrayed intense suffering. They all sported the Elements of Harmony.

Individually her friends were crying. Wait, crying? Tears of immense sadness, obviously, but why so? They hardly spoke a word, seemed incapable of doing so. What was most disturbing was her own face: a line of blood ran down from the left side of her forehead, 'round her snout, to the tip of her chin. She looked... awful! Her bloodless lips were twitching, eyes yellow even; the whites were quite yellow. Her mane was unkempt, posture rigid. She was scared. Awfully scared. But her friends—they were right there. Why be so frightened?

"I love you all," she drawled, in a sullen, breaking voice. "Thank you. All of you. Thank you."

Pain struck Twilight's heart. She wanted to—needed to—do something, anything. But damn it, she couldn't even open her mouth. Fluttershy could hardly contain her weeping; she needed somepony to hang onto, and yet they all held still, like statues. Rainbow Dash's head was bowed low. What did the others look like? But she couldn't see! Too much fog, far too much fog. The light from their previously joyful faces, whatever it was, had vanished, and in that instance Twilight sincerely believed this change was permanent.

Suddenly the Elements of Harmony began to shine intensely, their light penetrating the hard fog. They were like crystals put against the backdrop of white space, like an infinite winter. Her own crown did the same, strange patterns glittering around it. The pointed crystal shape on top was now like a vortex, consuming the magic from the other Elements. It all travelled towards her, like veins, dispersedly, from all directions.

The fog was declining, evaporating away from the enchanting levels of energy. She was absorbing the magic, right into her crown. And from there the magic shot straight up, herself with it.

Twilight gazed upwards, to where the pathway of energy from all the Elements had gone. The sky was clearing. The moon shone more brightly.

But it was too much. Too much to process. Too strange. Too...

* * *

With a jolt Twilight flew back from the table, in extreme trepidation. She was panting and covered in cold sweat.

"What the—?" she exclaimed, quite beside herself. She was silent for nearly half a minute, looking around to see if anything had changed unceremoniously. "I just... I don't understand," she said at length. What was that? She was here, in Pinkie's cave, but they were there, in the castle. So this was almost certainly some dream, or memory, or whatever. It wasn't a reality, or at least not the current reality. Did it take place in the past? Likely. Why did it happen? She couldn't say. Many ideas were developing in her mind, and Twilight felt an almost nonsensical urge to suppress it all.

She quickly walked to the table again, only to find the map gone; and the table was gone, too!

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," she said, nearly stammering; blood rushed to her head. "This has to be a product of dark magic. But I didn't sense anything when I got"—she suddenly paused, turned around, staring blankly at the rest of the party planning cave in its gloominess—"here," she ended stiffly.

A sharp twitch of pain flicked against her skull. Another fit was coming! She groaned and hastily trotted out of the cave, that is, up the tube and right out the front door, almost all without thinking too much. Yes, thinking could be left for the outdoors. She nearly lapsed into ambivalence, but quickly made away with it. She would get to the bottom of this.

Twilight was once again enveloped by the fog. She cast a curious glance back at Sugarcube Corner.

"My friends and I met here underground," she said, deep in thought. "Hmm. I guess that magic was tied to an object, in this case the table with the map on top, which means that table could've been storing a memory, which would explain what happened when I touched it. But memory-storing magic like that only disappears when it hits its expiration date. And what was that map about? We had a meeting? Seems likely, given the context. But, ah, this still isn't coming together." She decidedly resumed her walking, this time venturing further into town. Rarity's boutique next? Good enough.

"Everypony looked completely out of it. So we decided to go to the Castle of the Two Sisters, and then what? And what was up with the Elements of Harmony? And where did I go?" She suddenly stopped in her tracks, thought for a second, and then kept walking. "That memory—did it even happen? Artificial memory? I mean, I'm still here. 'I love you all'—I was... going away? To here maybe? Did I... die? No. I'm still alive. I feel alive."

Rarity's boutique was, for a lack of proper description, more or less in the same state as Sugarcube Corner. Looked awfully gloomy, but inside, past the fog, it seemed as if nothing had changed. The windows were clean. Every fabric, tool, piece of cloth, what have you—stored away in their respective drawers.

Twilight had wandered in warily, not expecting anything but, at the same time, suspecting some sort of magic just like what she found in the party planning cave. Strange, really: before she could think clearly, concisely, form coherent thoughts; but now, the moment she stepped out of the fog, it was as though her mind split in two, running with contradictions everywhere. Whenever Twilight contemplated something, another point of interest immediately took its place. The usual flow of her thinking process was fragmentary. Maybe this was due to the returning head pains? That made sense.

"Just stop," she sighed, this time breathing slowly. She had rested against a cupboard, beside a mannequin, waiting in quiet desperation for her head to stop shaking and blurring everything.

"My head was bleeding," she observed to herself, recalling that "memory," as it were. "Head injury? That's what's causing this?" She lapsed into a fleeting bout of anger; and, rising up, spitefully knocked the mannequin from its base. "Stupid, stupid," she exclaimed in unquenchable spite. "First Pinkie, then Rarity. That confirms it: no pony is here. But this isn't an illusion, definitely not a dream. I'm in Ponyville. I know I'm in Ponyville. What, was there an evacuation? Heh, I guess I was left behind."

Saying all this, the pain finally ceased; and so, after waiting another minute to be sure, she got up and went to the second floor, into Rarity's bedroom this time. Just like Pinkie's, there was nothing there; well, nothing worth noting, or at least Twilight assumed so. A queen-sized bed, some gem-filled chests, stuffed cupboards, an expensive mattress imported from Las Pegasus—nothing important, really.

Down she returned to the main room. Things seemed to distance themselves from her, like the very walls were reeling back with a sort of widening horror. Was her mind playing tricks on her? But she shook her head and a shade of clarity returned. She sure hoped she wasn't intoxicated, or put under any spell. But these concerns could be left for later. Rarity wasn't here, just like Pinkie. By sheer probability she would not find her other friends either. But now was not the time to give up.

However, on her way back outside, her fore-hoof cramped unexpectedly. She cried out and fell down on her side, holding the hurting hoof in a vain attempt to suppress the pain.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" She was pressing it hard against her chest; but soon enough the pain spread tormentingly to her ribcage, and it felt as if her bones were bending and trembling. "Gah! No, no. I need to... I need to..." Twilight began crawling now, straight towards the front door. At last she got out, and every notion of pain rolled off her body, destroyed by the touch of the fog.

Twilight lay on her back, staring up into the endless white void of a sky. It was in moments like these where she wished very much to forget all her troubles and sink into a soft bed. That was different! Hoof cramps on top of headaches? And when she was crawling, willing herself to ignore the throbbing pain, her peripheral vision had begun to darken. She could feel it spreading to her hind-legs. "Why?" was the question. And how?

Then abruptly, out of the blue, she broke into a bitter laugh. She held her hooves close to her, feeling for some warmth; but none came.

"No magic," she remarked in titters. "No memories. No friends. And now I can't even go two steps without having to suffer." She got up, and the smile had vanished from her lips; so did any trace of resolution. "Because of this"—she waved her arm around—"this place. No, no, I refuse to believe it. I can't believe it. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm just overthinking it. Maybe I just had a bad day, drank too much punch. I..." Her eyes vaguely lit up; something in her consciousness resurfaced.

"It was the yearly comet event. The girls and I were up on that same hillside. Pinkie was making the cupcakes, and Spike brought the punch. Wait, no, I'm getting confused again. When did that take place? Sunday night, right? That was... uh, two days ago?"

With her state of mental perturbation increasing with every moment, Twilight found a nice little tree just a few dozen yards from the boutique, next to a green bench, right beside a gated flowerbed with some patterns of roses dispersed within it. For some reason, she desired very much to take a rest. So she leaned back against the tree, instinctively stretched out, heavy eyelids drooping...

* * *

A bump in the train tracks gave everypony a start.

Fluttershy had to muffle her mouth from squeaking.

There was some general shuffling around. A few more fleeting groans arose.

For a whole two minutes not a word was uttered, nor a sound. Nothing.

The beds creaked lightly. More shuffling about. The tipping of hooves. Quiet, agitated sighs of suppressed indignation.

A bright flicker ignited the wick of a long candle, producing a small ember in an instant; its glow pushed back the darkness surrounding it, stretching several black shadows along the wooden floor. Several faces from the dark met around the light, their expressions glowing dimly in the view.

"Can't sleep?" asked Twilight. She spoke very quietly, in a faint, hoarse whisper.

Her friends, including Spike, shook their heads solemnly.

"Can't even think about going to sleep," said Rarity, in that same, barely audible whisper.

"How could it have come to this?" muttered Applejack.

"No other way," said Rainbow Dash.

Twilight felt Spike against her, his face buried in her shoulder, not saying a thing. She patted him on the head, and the two embraced in a quick hug. He truly did feel worried for her. This was not to imply that Twilight's friends did not display similar shades of concern, but even that simple hug conveyed something much more meaningful to her. She really loved Spike.

"I can't sleep, either," she said.

They resolved to stay in those exact positions, for almost an hour, merely gazing at one another with burning eyes, soaking in the company. Her friends' expressions were all half-hearted, not conveying any feeling—not that Twilight blamed them. She probably looked the worst. For a while the friends were content to listen to the locomotive's engine.

"You sure you want to do this, Twilight?" asked Pinkie Pie at length.

"I..." Twilight looked down. She exhaled long but quietly to herself. "Everypony have their Elements?"

Her friends hesitated, but then each nodded, one after the other.

"How's your horn, dear?" asked Rarity.

"It's... fine."

More unnerving quiet.

"Remember to stick to the outskirts," Twilight went on in that dead whisper. "No tripping. No rustling. No noise. No magic. When we get there... just remember to..."

Things began to get blurry, the moment-to-moment instances unclear. What did she say in the end there? "Just remember to"—what? Strange, very strange. She blew out the candle, subsuming back into the dark. They all hugged. The locomotive came to a steady halt.

* * *

"St—stop!" Twilight's consciousness rushed back in like a river. She was motionless for some time, recalling everything, as though all secondary thoughts left her, and she was aware of nothing but her breathing; then, she got up from the tree. That same green bench was there, entangled with the chilling fingers of the fog.

The roses were gone. The flowers had wilted.

"Shoot," she cursed under her breath, and quickly made her way back to the gravel road. Everything came back now. She was in the now. "How long was I passed out for? For Celestia's sake, it's still night? Couldn't I have... well, but forget it."

She wandered around town aimlessly, mechanically even, simply walking to get into a hopefully better mood. She gazed upwards, squinting to make something of a sky out.

"Maybe it's day, and the fog's just super dense," she remarked, but felt disappointed nonetheless. That doesn't make any sense.

How long had this started: this whole fog business, that is? But who could know? Twilight could still sense dull pains in her ribcage. She was partly limping even! The hoof which had suffered the cramp was itching strangely.

"I need to set my priorities straight. However I got here, forget about it. I'm in bad shape, still need to learn how that happened. And what was going on there!" she suddenly exclaimed, pondering on that vision she experienced. "What can I deduce? Sounded like a locomotive engine. And it was pretty loud, too—lot of horsepower then. They only make those kinds in Canterlot. Were we coming from Canterlot? Possibly. If we were coming from Canterlot then we had to meet there in the first place, because I remember being in Ponyville. If we were called to Canterlot, by Princess Celestia most likely, it might have had something to do with... But no, I'm getting too hung up on these pointless details. I..." She paused, looked absently around her, and stopped in astonishment when she suddenly found herself facing a long fence. On the opposite side rows of apple trees were visible, before disappearing behind the fog.

Twilight wandered onwards a bit more, finally coming to the gate. She went over the crossroad, instantly recognizing Sweet Apple Acres. There was the house, and the red barn, the stacks of hay, the charming homeliness.

But the place struck her as dreadful now; so she turned and went up to the front door, at first expecting to see Granny Smith, or Apple Bloom, or Big Mac, but then remembering her immense isolation and the fact that no pony would be there to greet her.

"In the locomotive, my face was all bloody, just like the first one," she recalled at once in contemplation, entering in to see the living room, once again, perfectly intact. Same with the kitchen. "Wait"—she hesitated to take another step, and now looked around almost with horror—"the fog isn't here, and the last time... I was... oh, please not again."

Twilight was seething, teeth grinding. Slowly she found a couch to lean on and support the side of her aching torso. The cutting pain of that damned razor was imminent—she could feel it. The former simple-hearted energy, so familiar to and representative of her, had given place in her to sullen irritability, disappointment, cynicism, as it were, to which she was not yet accustomed and which was a burden to her. But, above all, Twilight finally came to the conclusion that she was ill, clearly, on the edge of a fever.

Twilight didn't know what to make of these fireworks of ideas, so dark and unusual, going off in her head.

"Time-wise that second one came before the first," she said with a weak, even crooked, grin. "My friends and I were heading to the Castle of the Two Sisters, it was premeditated. But why was it so dark? Wouldn't the windows... I mean, the moon's light go through... but I don't get it. And the whispering, hmm, the whispering..."

That sensation returned with force now. Twilight had to confront it, or else she might lose her reason.

She was scared.

Not scared of any physical threat, per se—although that was still on the table—but namely, she was scared to forget the point. That it... What was the point? If she came out empty in this search, if it was all in vain, then what in Equestria was the stupid point? She couldn't afford to lose herself like that. She needed to know why, at least that, a simple why to her position, however unseemly it may have been.

She stood on all fours again, ignoring the buzzing pain in her head.

"I need to find Princess Celestia. She's got to know something, know what's going on. If I can't fly to Canterlot, I'll... I'll walk there myself. I just need some supplies. Maybe in the kitchen—"

She turned around and nearly cried in extreme surprise. There was Granny Smith, way in the corner, facing away from Twilight. The old mare was next to the kitchen doorway, a bit further away from the front door itself. But she was very still, like a stump.

"Granny Smith!" cried Twilight, overcome with joy. The suddenness of this new fact hardly even fazed Twilight; she had forgotten, in fact, even to question it first. But before she could confront Granny Smith, a train of horrifying pain hit the inside of her skull with immeasurable force.

She fell on her rump, hooves over her head in a pleading manner. Convulsions took over her body. Twilight wasn't conscious of anything besides the spasms which shot up her spine and twisted themselves onto her trembling face.

Twilight couldn't see. Her eyes were red and bulging. Stiff moans left her mouth; she was clutching to herself with all her might. Her stomach contracted, and she heaved up and vomited on the floor.

Everything was seen in doubles. It felt as if her entire figure was dipped in ice water and then tossed into a hurricane.

How long had she been on the floor? Twilight's sense of time was there one moment, gone the next. At least ten minutes, perhaps.

She willed herself up, a line of drool still hanging from her mouth. Her horn was on fire. Worst of all: Granny Smith was nowhere to be seen. But that hardly mattered at the moment. Twilight trudged along, out the front door; but this time the fog did little to quell her suffering. Much of the pain had subsided, but Twilight still felt like she was carrying five tons. She made it all of ten meters out of the house, then collapsed again, feeling her senses returning, one by one.

I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy. I can still think, I've still got my reason, I still know what to do... I think... and I... I... And...

And then Twilight screamed. She screamed till her throat was sore.

"Why! Just why, why, why!" she was roaring, struggling even to stay balanced on her hooves. Unfathomable hatred boiled up inside her. She was conscious of nothing but her own resentment.

"Am I not allowed to get what I want?" she babbled wrathfully. "Is this some sick version of fate? Why am I here? This fog, this freaking headache, these impossible visions, this... this..." She was choking up, and could not speak for a minute. "It's all so stupid. Everything—just so freaking stupid!"

She cast a glance over to the front door of the house. It was—closed? Wait, why was it closed? She didn't recall even touching the damned thing when limping out, barely alive herself. But why did it matter? What was the point?

A whole plethora of new thoughts flashed in Twilight's shifty mind. Everything suddenly took a different turn, yet fear still prevented her from reasoning.

"M-maybe there's a way out. Right, right. I just need to retrace my steps, that could lead me to the answer. I just... don't care. I'll do anything, at the cost of anything. Why should I care what happens to Equestria if it's already gone?"

She ran out of the apple farm. But where to? She... wasn't exactly sure. Back to Ponyville's square center? But where would that get her? Rainbow's house was up in the air, and even if Twilight could find the strength in herself to fly, how would she find it with so much fog in the way? Fluttershy's cottage? That was... well, but no. The cottage was located in a small clearing, just past a ditch, at the end of a certain hedge which outlined the borders of the Everfree Forest. And Twilight definitely did not want to go anywhere near the Everfree Forest.

Her friends had asked if she really wanted to do it. "It," as it were. What did that mean? Perhaps that whole magic show in the Castle of the Two Sisters was the "it"? So she absorbed the Elements of Harmony and disappeared, and her friends did not want to go along with it. But was she along for the ride? Well, was it her idea?

And Granny Smith—was she hallucinating now? It was certainly plausible. Twilight didn't want to go insane, could not even conceptualize it. Her mind was getting cloudy again. She couldn't lose sight of her goal. She needed something to do, something to...

And with all this running through Twilight's head, she found a solitary lamp and took a break near it.

"I thought I resolved to find Princess Celestia?" she exclaimed, terribly confused, but unsure why; she was confused about her confusion. A new feeling of anger came over her. "Did I...? Grr, come on! But what am I doing n—oh yeah, retracing my steps, retracing my steps. I can't forget that." Twilight sighed, and she lightly smacked herself on the forehead. "Don't be stupid, Twilight. How would I even reach Canterlot, let alone the Princess? I can barely find my own castle. And just where is that castle?"

She looked around some more, but with no clue of where she was. The texture of the fog was getting more contradictory, more mind-numbing. She sensed that it was leading her astray.

"There could be a clue left back at the castle," she muttered vaguely yet firmly. "Yeah, that's what I need. Forget the others. I won't find anything with them, if there even is a them."

She pressed on, eventually coming to a fork in the road, and after some consideration, resolved to go left.

"Since I'm here, I have to wonder: was this by my own will? Did I end up here because I wanted to? If that's the case, I'd have devised a failsafe, a way to get out. I-I know I would. I'd have to. Oh, keep it together, Twilight. Keep—it—together! Remember, there's a good chance none of this is as it seems. Maybe my friends are trying to save me this very minute. Yeah, that's it, maybe I'm not alone in this."

Twilight suddenly came to a halt, at another fork, with a signpost at the intersection. The moment she stared at this sign, her eyes widened, and for a second her mind cleared up considerably.

* * *

This was different. Very, very different. This wasn't anywhere she recognized.

A purple carpet covered the floor like a pasture. The walls were made of solid, grey bricks, and split at the corners into arching pillars containing a certain ponderous quality to their narrow designs. The ceiling was high up, and filled with shadows. A great many torches hung about, and the walls glinted in response.

It was a decently sized room. No windows. Underground? There were tables, chairs, and stools in certain areas; a shelf with a dozen or so books; mechanisms, glass bottles, scrolls—all there, almost like a sorcerer's get-together.

She saw herself, sitting on one of the stools by the bookshelf. Her friends were there, and—Princess Celestia? But not Luna. Nor Cadence. Two guards were also present, standing on each side of what Twilight could only have assumed to be the entrance.

Everypony looked very melancholy. No surprise there. Some of them were walking back and forth, something clearly bothering them.

Twilight was beside Celestia. It looked like they had just finished reading a certain book. A rather large tome, but it wasn't about magic. Nothing necessarily scientific either. It was... psychology? Huh, weird.

Wait, the Elements of Harmony? They were currently displayed on one of the tables. Loyalty, Kindness, Laughter, Honesty, Generosity... but where was hers? Everypony looked as if in anticipation of something. This turned out to be true soon enough.

There came three distinct knocks on the door. Everypony's attention was immediately drawn. Celestia's expression was especially dubious.

"Password?" said one of the guards.

"Meta-theme seven," replied a voice from the other side.

The tension lowered to a tolerable level.

A metal clang—the door opened—yet another guard walked in; and the door was hastily closed behind him. This one carried around his waist a saddlebag, evidently filled with many things considering the protruding size.

"Iron Snout, thank goodness you made it," Celestia called out to the newly received guard with a weak, yet genuine, smile.

"Your Majesty," said Iron Snout, bowing graciously.

Twilight's friends gathered around the table. Spike was darting his nervous eyes between the guard and the Elements, back and forth. A grey shadow had come over Twilight's face.

"Were Princess Twilight's mapped-out coordinates correct?" asked Celestia.

Iron Snout nodded. He opened the saddlebag and took out the Element of Magic, and proceeded to place it on the table next to the others.

"Excellent," continued Celestia. "The modified locomotive has also been prepared, exactly on schedule. The windows have all been painted black; and the walls are soundproof as well. I took the initiative on that myself."

"Thank you, Princess Celestia," said Twilight, boundless resolution highlighting her face.

"You don't have to do this alone," reproached Rainbow Dash. "I know we all agree to it, but... gah, come on! Isn't there another way?"

Twilight stared hard at Rainbow. "No," she replied.

"I understand you're all in despair," said Celestia, with the utmost sincerity. "I wish with all my heart that I could go instead. I'd do anything to take her place."

"This was my choice, my own will," said Twilight halfheartedly, stressing each syllable. "I'll be entirely complicit in what's to come. I'm the Element of Magic, remember? I'm the best bet to saving Equestria."

"I can't believe this is happening," enunciated Spike, heaving a great sigh. "Pfft! The Elements of Harmony don't work on it. Now reality itself is all screwed up."

"It definitely wasn't funny," added Pinkie Pie sadly.

"What has Equestria come to?" said Rarity, furrowing her brow contemptuously.

"I wish I could say that we've tried everything," said Twilight, "but we can't be sure of anything at this point. Up is down, left is right, two and two make five."

"How long have we even been here?" asked Applejack.

"There's no telling, dear," said Rarity. "But whether a week or a year, what difference should it entail as long as we stick togeth—"

"No, Rarity, this is different," Twilight interrupted in a low voice. "What's sticking together going to do?"

"Wh-at?" said Rainbow, at the height of her confusion. Her friends expressed similar feelings.

"Nothing in our plane of existence works on it," Twilight continued, ignoring the worriment her friends displayed. "These words of ours, these actions, these beliefs—it's nothing I've ever even been able to comprehend. These impossible consequences are everywhere. First Luna, then Cadence—they stared too long into it. Look how they've turned out."

"But darling, you must very well be mistaken," said Rarity. "There is no way this is you. Come now, Spike, tell her."

"I..." Spike began, but paused, as if his tongue were impossibly heavy. "I don't know. I thought we'd figure it out, you girls always do. But... well, I don't know."

Oh, Spike, you really did all you could for me, didn't you? Went through high waters just for me... It hurts just hearing him talk like that.

"Were we... wrong?" asked Fluttershy at length.

"We need to get going soon," announced Celestia before anypony could respond, who had in the meantime been conversing with the guard.

The ponies looked at one another, steadfast, like they were communicating without words.

"Remember why we're doing this," said Twilight. "If we can pull this off... it'll cost me everything. No magic, no flying, no talking till we can cross the river to the locomotive."

After they had everything set and ready to go, they formed a single line and followed the guard through the pitch-black tunnel. Twilight, being the last one, was about to take off, but hesitated for a second when Celestia said something to her.

"Don't lose yourself, Twilight. For me, for your friends, but especially for yourself. If it starts to fade your memories—"

"I understand, Princess," sighed Twilight. She gave a quick bow, and then hurried off, casting one last, fleeting glance before disappearing.

There was hidden vigour burning in Celestia's eyes.

I know that look. Princess Celestia wants me to stay, wants me to not go. Looks like she'd switch places with me if she could. It's the only way. Is it the only way?

* * *

Twilight recalled all of this in a fraction of a second, like it had all been there with her, and somepony unlocked it fleetingly with a key. It was almost as if a bright light had encompassed her vision, and next thing she knew she was back at the fork, staring at the signpost. It pointed to the right, and read: Leaving Ponyville.

Twilight was remarkably still, very dazed, as it were. Her head was burning hot. An incessant ringing noise trembled in her ears. Damn, that was annoying, but not enough to disorient her entirely.

"Magic doesn't work on it? The Elements don't work on it? Princess Luna and Princess Cadence stared too long into it? If it affected my... er... memories, then...?"

Twilight blinked hard, as if coming to her senses, feeling a new rush of ill-defined and decided inspiration come back to her. She needed to act, to do something at the very least.

"It's coming together now. That room, a-and the talk about a locomotive prepared for us—so I can be sure the Elements aren't in Ponyville, or even in Canterlot for that matter. I went away somewhere, and landed here. We got to the Castle of the Two Sisters with a locomotive, and just now we were in some room, packing up, ready to take off. That does it: these memories are all backwards. I said that I was trying to save Equestria, so something, some dark force, plopped me in some weird, uh, alternate version of Ponyville. Ha, yes, it's all coming together!" she cried joyfully, getting more and more confident with each word. This proved that no, she wasn't crazy, and yes, she could still reason, still pull off deductions.

"But what was all that about an 'it' precisely? Did Tirek return? No way, he'd be toast. And I would... ech!" she coughed violently.

She felt her bones rattling. A new convulsion rang within her head, a small migraine or the like; and in an instant much energy and motivation drained from Twilight. Her body was about to collapse.

She was moaning and shaking her head pitifully.

"Ech! Ech!" Her chest tightened and burned up.

"I really, really don't fe-el well now," Twilight rasped out with an effort. The whole front of her face felt like it was made of stone; her knees were jelly.

But no! This wouldn't stop her. Newfound rage came over her; she huffed with fury and took a right turn, on the path away from Ponyville, running like the wind. But where did this lead to now? If her guess was correct and this road was indeed situated on the east bank of Ponyville, she was en route to Manehattan.

"I don't care, I don't care!" Twilight was whispering wildly to herself, feeling the weight of a fever pressing against her nerves as she ran. But she ignored it. Too much pain for the day had diluted her emotions. And she knew this all too well.

"I'll come back, or maybe not, to my castle, but first out of Equestria, or... or... I don't know. Forget my friends, or the stupid princesses, they can do just fine without me."

* * *

She felt lagged behind. But how? She was running straight, onwards and onwards, and yet there were no clear indications of any progress. Just an endless road.

* * *

Was it really a mere coincidence that she had found herself in such an abomination of an area, consumed by this maddening fog, and her friends just went along with it? They were so ungrateful. Well, they'd never see this, now would they? Ungrateful. Terribly, insufferably ungrateful. But the road continued ever straight, ever extending. The fog opened in front of her, and closed behind. The road was like a stupid treadmill.

* * *

How long now? Two hours? Two hours and thirty minutes? Certainly not two hours and forty-five minutes!

* * *

And the damned Princess. Just what in Equestria was she thinking? To think that Twilight once... looked up to her. Oh, Your Venerable Majesty, discard this stupid fog and withdraw from the discussion. It doesn't concern you, or anypony. No pony at all!

And when will this road end?

* * *

There are those rare instances, strange yet in endless solicitude, where the intelligent, sensitive soul yearns for a higher justice previously unknown to them, for the sake of placing their faith in something transcendent, beyond their scope of knowledge. How poetic!

And she, along with her friends, placed that insane belief in the Elements of Harmony?

But just when will this road end?

* * *

If she were tasked with the object of building an edifice for all of Equestria, one on which ponies would prosper and live happily for all of eternity, but the catch was for her to endure another hour of wandering down this road, would she take it? Probably. But she had her doubts.

* * *

If I could view the rest of my life, and see my fate, should I be happy with it? Doesn't it make sense to love one's fate, even if it's the most horrible thing imaginable? No, obviously not. Why am I getting into philosophy just now? But the others don't have to worry about that, not about this fog, this road...

* * *

Must have been hours, and hours and more hours. All day and night. She was hungry, her throat parched. No food to be found, no water to be found, no end to be found. But which was the most important? Worth considering...

* * *

Why was she... doing this? Come on, come on, she had to remind herself. Hmm... length of the road aside... she hung on the why's?

Ha, ha, it's funny, really! Even in this horror-struck moment, when all seemed lost, Twilight remembered all that was dear to her. The blue sky was dear to her, the white clouds were dear to her, the little flowers blooming in spring were dearest of all. You know, the little things. How Spike had dedicated his life to make sure she was alright; how Princess Celestia did all that she could to take her place; how her friends stuck by her side; the... little things.

* * *

What was Twilight trying to do again? She was walking down this road. And... what? What was the point? The point, point, point...

That's right. Mustn't forget! She was looking for the Elements of Harmony, or the princesses, or at least a way out. Oh, and the memories, she had long forgotten about those! They had no point to them anyway.

"It's not like I have amnesia," Twilight told herself. "I'm not just forgetting things on the fly. I remember waking up in bed, this fog everywhere, and my friends... but forget my friends. I've been here too long for my own good. I need to get out of Ponyville."

At last something came into view. Her eyes lit up. A line of pleasure appeared on her lips. She got closer, closer, and the signpost read: Leaving Ponyville.

"W-what?"

Twilight only now realized her immense exhaustion. She was hungry, tired, panting.

"But I thought...? This was leaving Ponyville."

She turned back, staring aimlessly into the impenetrable fog.

Twilight came to realize that there was the most intense curiosity in her to take the alternate route away from the signpost, and it would not be satisfied until she could confirm her reality. She just couldn't believe it.

This sensation amplified itself even further when she turned 'round the corner, down the alternate path, and in no sooner than a minute the gloomy outlines of buildings made themselves known within the backdrop of the fog.

She was in Ponyville again.

"No... no, no, no..." poured from her automatically, feeling now that she had lost her head altogether.

Twilight glumly took a few extra steps forth, confirming for a fact that this was Ponyville. She stood dumbfounded, unable to comprehend how she could have let this happen. Was it even rational to rationalize this "error," or whatever it was?

She walked silently, at random, not remembering whether to turn left or right to find her castle, or anything for that matter. She was meant to retrace her steps, but there was no goal in her mind anymore. She strode along the marketplace, senselessly, lost with her lost memories (being able to recall only fragments of them), not caring where she was going. A passing foal might have knocked her down, so strengthless had she suddenly become in soul and body.

Finally she collapsed, and began to weep. Hot, hot tears gushed from her glassy eyes.

"I just want to leave," she muttered in between sobs. "I don't want this anymore. I don't want it. Just let me go."

She covered her face with her hooves, weeping loudly into them.

"I don't have anything else! I don't want anything. I... I-I've been a good pony. I've never done anypony any wrong. Oh Celestia... please stop everything, just this once. Twilight, you silly, misbehaved perfectionist. No friends in Canterlot, couldn't even bother to show up to Moondancer's party, couldn't even hold onto her current friends. And just... all the mistakes I've made... I know what's wrong with me, I understand my flaws if I'm willing to admit them. I'm sorry."

It was merciless.

"Somepony... please... please find me."

* * *

But then it hit her on the head, like a sort of illumination. Before the locomotive, before the Elements of Harmony, before any supposed sacrifice, she remembered it: somewhere in the basement in Canterlot Castle. They had just gotten there. They were running away from something—that, or running to somewhere.

Yes, yes, running away from whatever she had to save Equestria from.

A library. A library in a basement? Well, a rather large basement at that, and this place did belong to Princess Celestia.

"Magic has proven to be counterintuitive," remarked Luna, who was evidently angry judging by her dry, hostile tone.

"I know," was Celestia's dismal reply.

"I mean alicorn magic, Sister," Luna went on heatedly. "Our magic."

"And the Elements of Harmony have met a similar fate."

The colour drained from Luna's face. She opened her mouth to say something, but could not articulate it. She, too, was decidedly dumbfounded.

"That's the least of our worries," interjected Twilight.

"What in Equestria do you mean?" asked Luna between her teeth.

"We... well"—Twilight swallowed the knot in her throat—"we lost the Elements."

"You did what?" Luna sputtered.

Celestia heaved a heavy sigh. There was true desperation in her eyes.

"The Elements of Harmony are bound by time, right? Just like us, right?" she asked, sounding entirely dismissive to the horror plastered on Luna's face.

"I... rather, yes," Luna was the first to answer, still attempting to make sense of any of this.

"By time," echoed Twilight, hardly able to enunciate her own words.

"Remember those reports you sent me, Twilight, along with what Princess Cadence told you? Time doesn't apply to it. In fact, it seems like dimensions in general don't apply to it. We have, I think, eleven dimensions? Or was it twelve? Our range of thought, of feeling and of understanding—none of it works anymore. And we have no idea on what it's even made of. Is it physical matter? Or not even matter, but of something cosmically abstract?"

"What are you saying?" exclaimed Luna, turning to Celestia. "What do different dimensions have to do with it?"

"Dimensions, Luna. Our knowledge of existence, of concepts. It was reported that a mare, after prolonged exposure, witnessed it raining and not raining at the same time. Another one—a mathematician from Canterlot University—reported to have seen a triangle whose angles summed up to over one-eighty degrees.

"Words describing it fail. Pages relating it shrivel. Tales recounting it end. In other words, it's everything we do not know."

"So we don't even know what it is, or what is, or..." Twilight rubbed her head, reaching the limits of her understanding. "Where did it begin, Princess?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"But I don't know either."

"Where are your friends, Princess Twilight?" asked Luna.

"My friends...?" Twilight was stuck. She almost brought herself to look around the room, out of habit. She suddenly gave a start. "They were in Ponyville, weren't they? Rarity just got back from a business deal in Las Pegasus. And Pinkie was recently sent by the map. And I..."

"Everything must be collapsing on itself now," remarked Luna, frowning. "And we are obliged to do something about it. Anything."

"Twilight," Celestia pressed on, "where are your friends?"

* * *

But could it have been that easy? Absorb the Elements of Harmony to whisk this so-called threat away? Or, conceptually, was this something even a "something"? Non-existence is a concept. Did it exist beyond non-existence?

Twilight had stopped crying. Her eyes stung very much. She still sniffled every few seconds, but now a significant silence took precedence.

"These memories aren't what they seem," she observed. "There never were any Elements of Harmony. I've been here for a lot longer than I thought. Wait, I'm getting lost again." She rose up on all four hooves. "Was it that magic never existed, or it just doesn't exist now? I'm... forgetting. Yeah, that's right, I don't belong here, now do I? I need to leave, I need to find the real Ponyville, get out of... is this even fog? I was... getting back from something... and Spike greeted me. He said that I didn't look so good, that it was really late. Stupidly late. But—no, wait, that's it—there was a point to it. I was getting back, but I wasn't supposed to be back. I had to tell him something, tell my friends about it, tell the princesses about it. But did I do that before or after? I'm getting confused again. Was this before or after it? Magic didn't exist, so we tried the Elements; but those didn't exist either. So ponykind as I know it doesn't exist?"

Her head had cleared up once again. The patterns which comprised the fog began twitching and warping; a difference in its form could finally be noticed.

"What's going on?" exclaimed Twilight, looking all around her in disbelief. The fog, which before had clung to her coat, reacted with her body quite readily. It distanced itself from Twilight. And then... nothing. It looked like the fog was being lifted up, particle by particle, and then it sluggishly bobbed down, and it returned to its normal state.

"Maybe that was supposed to happen," said Twilight at once. "This stuff has to be connected to my thoughts. We all had a goal, something we were trying to achieve, and when we accomplished it... oh Celestia, I need to get back to the castle." Twilight bolted in the direction of the road, but after a second easily found her way.

"I need to figure out what happened back at the castle. It's the only way to solve whatever's behind the fog. This cold, cold mess."

She was beginning to get breathless with excitement. The fog had reacted to her—a unique case, but a difference nonetheless.

It was the fog, wasn't it? The threat that was attacking Equestria? The threat for which she sacrificed herself to save Equestria? Was she the only one who would see it? Around and around it went, liquidating its white fingers into literally everything. Everything. Celestia had a point: not just bound by the material world, but all dimensions, all realities, all concepts. But there could have been a way to fix it, make it right! Twilight merely needed one final piece; she could feel it.

After ten minutes of scrounging around she made it back to her crystal castle. She slammed open the front double door and ran in. Nothing could stop her!

"Ouch! Ouch!" she cried.

Her knees nearly buckled, and for a second she could barely move. The head pains returned with a vengeance, without warning!

But no, no, that wasn't important. Not now. Not ever again!

With every essence of her will Twilight put aside the burning knives poking into her brain and ran, ran like mad. Every ounce of adrenaline was being pumped into her veins.

The fog had followed her, too. Unlike before, it flooded the entirety of her castle in its white pulp, distorting all.

Twilight couldn't think.

She felt like she'd never think again!

The pain.

Burning pain.

Hot.

Cut.

Slash.

Tssssss...

Stop.

Stop!

stopstopstopstopstopstopstopstopstopstop

But she couldn't run fast enough. Soon enough the fog had consumed all, and her suffering had partially subsided. The insides of her brain were still terribly sore, and she felt like blood would start pouring from her eye sockets. She hurt too much to speak coherently, but it was slightly more tolerable.

The fog was failing her.

But where did she find herself now?

Hold up, not her room? But this was Spike's room. There was his desk, his bed, some posters, some stuff or other... she couldn't think too much about it.

"But... there isn't... anything... here..." Twilight was struggling to speak out, having to bite down on her tongue.

The fog was again wrapping around her body. She stood terribly still, in frightened alarm. The head pains had dulled a bit more now, only a bit.

She was in her castle. Spike's room. The fog was here. That meant something had changed. But what was it?

"Come on, come on!"

Twilight was wildly looking about, searching for anything to stand out.

And then she set her sights searchingly on Spike's bed. It was perfectly made, as though no pony had touched it. Nothing but the fog.

And then...

And then she saw it.

* * *

"I love you all," she drawled, in a sullen, breaking voice. "Thank you. All of you. Thank you."

Suddenly the Elements of Harmony began to shine intensely, their light penetrating the hard fog.

Her own crown did the same.

The pointed crystal shape on top was now like a vortex, consuming the magic from the other Elements, rushing towards her from all directions.

The fog was declining, evaporating away from the enchanting levels of energy. She was absorbing the magic, right into her crown. And from there the magic shot straight up, herself with it.

Twilight gazed upwards, to where the pathway of energy from all the Elements had gone. The sky was clearing. The moon shone more brightly.

And the empty eyes were looking straight at her.

* * *

The unnerving quiet in the locomotive could only last so long.

"Remember to stick to the outskirts," Twilight went on in that dead whisper. "No tripping. No rustling. No noise. No magic. When we get there, just remember, most important: don't stare at it. No matter what. Avert. Your. Eyes."

She blew out the candle.

The empty eyes gazed into them.

* * *

They were all leaving now.

"Don't lose yourself, Twilight. For me, for your friends, but especially for yourself. If it starts to fade your memories—"

"I understand, Princess," sighed Twilight. She gave a quick bow, and then hurried off, without looking back at the empty eyes.

* * *

"Where are your friends, Princess Twilight?" asked Luna.

"My friends...?" Twilight was stuck. She was staring directly into the empty eyes, just like before. She suddenly gave a start. "They were in Ponyville, weren't they? Rarity just got back from a business deal in Las Pegasus. And Pinkie was recently sent by the map. And I..."

Right there. The empty eyes were next to Celestia; only she could see them.

"Twilight," Celestia pressed on, "where are your friends?"

The empty eyes had always been there. Always, always.

* * *

Twilight had just gotten back from the yearly comet event. She had intended on going alone, for specific research purposes.

Spike met her in the foyer.

"Twilight!" He hurried over to her, evidently apprehensive about something. He spoke very quickly. "What took you so long? You were supposed to be back, like, four hours ago, and I promised Rarity to help inspect those new gems she recently bought from that foreign merchant, but now that you're back so late you won't be able to get up early enough to help me buy the equipment needed and... and... Remember you promised?"

Twilight had completely disregarded him, that is, she strode right along to the library, not responding to a single word.

Spike huffed, understandably irritated.

"Twilight, don't you know how important this is to me?"

They stopped at one of the bookshelves. Using her magic, Twilight began sorting out a number of tomes, looking for one in particular.

Spike held out his arms, wringing them to supposedly get her attention.

"Hello~!" he called out. "Equestria to Twilight. You there?"

"Something's wrong, Spike," she said at length, finding the tome she was searching for. She slammed it on a nearby table. Advanced mathematics. Quite old. Title: On Formally Undecidable Propositions of Principia Mathematica and Related Systems. Very advanced.

"Huh?" Spike tilted his head.

"I said something's wrong," she said again.

"What's wrong? Twilight, do you have any idea what time it is righ—"

"No, no, no, no!" shot from Twilight, as if she had intended to whisper it but could not contain her growing anxiety.

"Okay, this must be important," said Spike, more seriously now, and with hard emphasis. He looked with concern at Twilight. "What's got you so bothered?"

"Nothing works anymore, Spike."

"What... doesn't work anymore?" Spike was, at last, taken aback by the genuine fear in Twilight's voice.

"Our math. Our definitions. Our logic. It can't be applied to anything anymore."

"Whoa. Um." Spike was even more taken aback now, trying as he might to brew up a sufficient response. "Did a spell go horribly wrong, or... or what?"

"Here!" Twilight landed on a specific page. "The Incompleteness Theorem: proves that axioms cannot be explained within a closed system of underlying logic. But... it's wrong now. Everything is wrong."

"I don't understand," said Spike, getting stressed out just by listening to Twilight rambling. He couldn't stand to see her so scared.

"That's just it, Spike!" Twilight suddenly raised her voice, as if in despair. "Back there, when I was observing the comets, I saw it. Maybe it came from space, from some other plane of existence. These... beings... logic doesn't apply to 'them.' Or 'it.' I don't know what it wants, but we're losing magic everywhere in Equestria."

"So you're telling me some evil monster appeared from some portal—I'm guessing?—and it's... what? Wreaking havoc?"

"No pony can understand it. I saw it, Spike. The others were going crazy, jumping off cliffs, laughing."

"Okay, okay, just slow down!" interposed Spike, who was now all giddy. Talk of ponies jumping off cliffs threw him for a loop. "It's okay, Twilight, I'm here for you. What do you need me to do?"

"Get the Elements. Where are they?"

"They're in the—bah, forget it. I'll get them. Just tell me what else to do?"

"Send a letter to the princesses, tell them I need help."

"Er, y—yeah, sure thing, Twilight."

"How long has it been since I've gotten back?"

"Huh? How long?"

"A week? Two weeks?"

"A... what? No, about seven hours. You left at nine, remember?" Spike was beside himself. "What do you mean, weeks?"

"Nothing, I just don't understand anymore," Twilight said this with a large yawn. She was far too fatigued to keep this up.

"Twilight, I get what you're saying, but are you okay?"

"I'll talk later, Spike. This princess has got to hit the hay. Everything should come together in the morning. For now just, I dunno, go do what I told you to do."

"You sure you're okay, Twilight...?"

"I'm fine. We'll talk tomorrow morning."

"But 'morning' is in two hours."

It's funny, really. She didn't even want to know why Spike was up so late.

* * *

Twilight cocked her head back. She could hardly make out Spike's bed, or much of the room really; so dense was the fog.

"I wanted to stop it, I wanted to understand," she muttered coldly. Blood rushed to her face. "So this isn't fog. When it came only I could see it? But the Elements... If I succeeded in stopping it, because I loved my friends so much, then... then..." Her trembling lips twisted into a thin, weary smile.

She turned around, and there it was.

The empty eyes.

She stared straight at it.

She began to finally understand.

Twilight became sane. Very sane. She was suddenly aware of everything, like a new, comforting idea revealed itself which cut through a thousand lies.

Back at the comet event, these things dropped from the sky. Black, slender entities, hundreds of meters tall, extraterrestrial—their bodies were made of something which, in the most rudimentary sense, could be described as matter. When she looked at these abominations, it was everything she did not know.

And everything began to fail. Magic. Conceptions of objective reality. Two and two no longer made four. Time was no longer linear in their presence. The Elements of Harmony did not work, and... and what else was there to do? Was thinking outside the box even an option?

And what about their motives? Why steal magic and drive everypony insane? Perhaps it was too out-of-touch to be comprehended. But no, these aliens were not omnipotent. Something had to transcend them. If not for time, space, logic, all twelve dimensions, then what? What universal constant existed independent of their own being?

Love, if nothing else. Not even the boundless inevitability of the cosmos could destroy this single thing known as Love. There is nothing more meaningful than beauty found within Love. To discard these aliens and ensure the survival of Equestria, it cost Twilight everything.

But hadn't she always been a cynic at heart? Why would she give her own life? It wasn't for Equestria, nor for the princesses. But that night, when she saw how Spike had worried for her, stayed up that late just to make sure she was alright... That level of concern, why, it was a fact which ought to amaze even the coldest of cold monsters. Even in her own periods of darkness Twilight invariably relied on her friends, on her Number One Assistant, to delay a plummet into the abyss.

She'd save them no matter what. To hell with the Elements of Harmony. This was too important. Twilight loved them too much.

And these aliens really did leave. But what about Twilight? She went along with them. That hopelessness had followed her all this time, but now? Now she began to laugh.

Those empty eyes—an impossibility in and of themselves—had followed her from that very night because she stared for too long. But Love still triumphed.

It was all over. She had won. This fog was nothing more than a reminder; but she'd be forgetting this anyway. Those aliens, with their empty eyes, followed her every step of the way in a desperate, abnormal attempt to allay her efforts.

And her response, right then and there? She laughed and heaved a sigh of relief.

"You think any of this matters to me anymore?" she said with an ironic smile. "But I've figured everything out. It was all just like a puzzle. I'm good at puzzles. Know this, you—assuming you can understand me—that I'll spite anything you throw at me. I went far off the deep end, I'm gone and out. But so what? Even if you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet, the upshot is that Equestria is safe. Forever safe from you, whatever in Equestria you're supposed to be. Ha, ha!"

And Twilight committed to just that: remain in that fog, with them, to the end of her days.

Even if medical ponies were there to examine her, they would completely and emphatically rule out insanity.