Lend Me Your World

Chapters

Chapter 2: Masks for the Inquisitors
Chapter 3: The First Promise
Chapter 4: An Additional Factor
Chapter 5: Little Talks
Chapter 6: How to Cast a Shadow
Chapter 7: On the Bright Side
Chapter 8: The Cruel Contrast
Chapter 9: To Slam a Door Shut
Chapter 10: Every Step Forward
Chapter 1: Pieces to a Phantom

Chapter 2: Masks for the Inquisitors

Little by little, Sora awoke. His fingers brushed over concrete, slick with water. The pitter patter of rain soothed the ears, but his face tensed as each drop landed on his cheek. When he opened his eyes, he picked out a blurry figure lying beside him. Her hair stood out the most. A subdued red and yellow, flowing down to her waist. Sora pushed himself up and blinked away his drowsiness. She mumbled to herself, rubbing the back of her head.

“Hey,” Sora said. She froze, opening one eye as Sora offered his hand. “Are you all right?”

She jumped up, almost falling back down again, but caught herself. Sora retracted his hand and brought it back to his side. There was suspicion in her cyan eyes. She studied him, uncertain. Sora did the same with her. A short jacket over a dress. It matched her eyes to a tee. Her necklace shimmered when he glanced to it, but couldn’t examine it further when she stepped closer to squint at him.

He leaned back, raising a brow, “Uh, what?”

The double doors burst open from the nearby building, and both of them turned to find a tall, middle-aged woman stride over with an umbrella. Her stern expression made her concern all the more apparent. She furrowed her brow at the girl.

“Sunset Shimmer,” she greeted hastily, bringing the umbrella over both of them. “I saw your fall. Do you need the nurse to check you out?”

That was her name, Sunset Shimmer. Sora faced her again, eyeing her amber skin and hair. It fit her well. Sunset glanced to Sora as though expecting him to intervene.

“No, I’m fine, Vice Principal Luna,” she said. It sounded like she had more to say, but kept looking to Sora. He tilted his head. “The phantoms were everywhere, and I got disoriented. Totally my fault.” Another glance to Sora. “You still can’t see them, right?”

Luna looked to Sora. No recognition, no malice, not even a grunt.

“Hi there,” Sora said with a wave. He turned over the term “phantoms” in his mind, already confused. “I’m not sure how I got here, but she-”

“I’m afraid not, Ms. Shimmer,” Luna replied. “Perhaps it would be best to step inside. While you might not need attention, it wouldn’t be prudent to catch a cold.”

“I guess so,” Sunset said, sticking close to her. Sora wasn’t sure how to respond to being ignored. His first instinct was to call her out, but instead reached out to her.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked as his hand phased through her.

Sora and Sunset jerked back, eyes wide.

“W-what the-!?” Sora said. He stared at his hands “What’s wrong with me? Why can I do that?!”

He patted down his body. He was still whole and himself; nothing out of the ordinary. Sunset was speechless, both fascinated and as shocked as he was. Luna still glowered, but took a deep breath and stepped closer to Sunset.

“More of your, um, phantoms?” she asked. It was so stilted that it was enough for Sora and Sunset to forget about the incident. They were still pretty shaken.

“Yeah...” Sunset said, catching Luna’s half lidded eyes. “Let’s go with that.”

Luna ushered Sunset to the building, and Sora could only trail behind. Adjusting to the situation was crucial, but there was so much to absorb. He lifted his arm after them before his attention was drawn to the building. It rose higher than its surroundings, laid out in the open with fortified gray stone along the edges. Shingles angled on the roof, topped with a glass dome made of triangular panes.

“Where… am I?” Sora asked. It felt like he was back in Traverse Town, lost in an unfamiliar world with unfamiliar people. And having ghostly powers.

A squeak emanated from the doors. Luna held the door for Sunset as they stepped inside. Sora scanned the windows again before hurrying after them, slipping through the doors before they closed. A wave of heat welcomed him and he sighed in relief. He didn’t realize how much the rain had gotten to him. The lobby itself was huge. It reached to the second floor, allowing banners to drape down beside display cases filled with trophies. Hallways branched out in different directions, and Sora had to grasp that this was only one room.

“Whoa,” he said, turning every which way to see as much as he could.

“Very well,” Luna said, shaking her umbrella free of raindrops. Sunset stood aside with her hands behind her. “If you insist you are well, I won’t press further.” She sighed. Her two-tone hair hid her face from Sora’s view. “Remember your detention-”

“I know,” Sunset snapped, bowing her head. “I don’t need a reminder.”

An unpleasant silence fell over the lobby. Sora had to drop his reverie, shifting his weight.

“Very well then,” Luna said, nodding. She took her leave without a farewell. As soon as she turned the corner down the hallway, Sunset crossed her arms and glared at Sora.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “What do you want with me?”

He was taken aback by her aggression. Anger took the place of her curiosity. Even her stance was solid and imposing.

“S-Sora,” he said. When she didn’t respond, he softly cleared his throat and nodded firmly. “I’m Sora.”

“Sora,” she repeated. She narrowed her eyes, searching. They were intense enough for Sora to break away and look down the empty hallway. Lockers lined each side. Sunset walked up to him and swept her hand across him. A shiver ran up his spine. That definitely wasn’t normal. “Are you a phantom?”

“I’m… not sure,” he said, slightly distracted. Sunset had her own questions, but each one left Sora more puzzled. “You’re Sunset Shimmer, right?

“Why appear only to me?” she asked over him, taking a step closer. He took a step back in turn. “Why not everyone else? Did you want to prove a point?”

“I don’t know,” Sora said. That glare of hers returned, and Sora waved his arms in front of himself. “Honest!

Sunset held her ground, and Sora expected another flurry of inquiries and demands. She released a rough sigh, her anger deflating and scorned the ground instead. A lot ran through her head, brow and lips twitching as she thought. It left Sora to himself, unsure what she wanted from him.

His gaze shifted to the banners. They depicted the head of a horse. It mirrored the horse busts outside on the walls.

“Do you know where we are?” he asked. His voice was quieter than usual.

“Canterlot High School,” Sunset said. She didn’t even look his way.

“A high school?” Sora asked. He took another look around. Regal architecture wasn’t what he would associate with education. Sora grunted with a growing smile. “Best school I’ve ever been to.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Sunset said, flicking her eyes back to him again. His smile faded, hunching his head. She took another second for that to set in before furrowing her brow, conflicted. “Why were there… others of you around the school? All phantoms only I could see.” She set a hand on her hip. “And I guess it’s still the case with you.”

“Phantoms?” Sora said. “You mentioned them before, but I haven’t seen any phantoms of myself?”

He didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he wasn’t even sure where the conversation was going. His mind still reeled over sticking his hand through people. Sunset slapped a hand to her forehead, the other clenched into a fist.

“Forget it,” she said, brow laced with frustration. “Agh, so you came out of nowhere, don’t know anything, and I’m still the only one who can see you.” She closed her eyes with a dismissive shrug. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

Then she stormed off towards one of the hallways, adjusting the strap of her bag. Sora scratched his head. He had missed a step or two about the situation. Her tension - both with him and Luna - her abrasiveness, and the mention of phantoms; it all packed together and threw his head for a spin. So much so that Sunset already reached the corner down the hallway. He jumped, hurrying to the entrance of the hall.

“What about me?” he yelled, holding his arms out.

“I’ll worry about it later! Just-” She rolled her hand with a bitter growl. “Just let me sort this out.”

And she was gone, along with any sense of direction he once had. It wasn’t the first time he was left to his own devices. He should be able to bounce back and figure things out. Yet loneliness crept in harder than it ever had. No guidance to rely on, no heading to march towards, and at the moment, no one but Sunset could interact with him. The last one struck him hard, sagging his body.

He thought back to his awakening, back to seeing her curiosity upon their meeting. A quick exchange, hardly even that, but she couldn’t be purely hostile. Or even mean spirited. Sora wanted to believe that. Otherwise he was on his own, alone.

He stamped out the feeling. All of his worries had to wait, he had to have faith.

Sunset was his starting point.

It wasn’t the first time Sunset had arrived early to school, but hoped to Celestia that it was the last. A headache already formed behind her eyes. Her body was heavy from her soaking hair and clothes, still dripping as she hurried past lockers and classrooms. She got nowhere with the phantoms, and their origin was about as clueless as her.

Sunset brushed her hair behind her ear. A small action to keep her calm.

She rushed into the library, slightly out of breath. Upon seeing Fluttershy wait at one of the tables, relief flooded Sunset. The morning was bad enough without missing another session with her. With a deep breath to push aside Sora and the phantoms, Sunset smiled and walked over with a wave.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she said, hanging her bag on the chair. Fluttershy beamed, sitting up straight. “The rain was brutal. Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head, hair swaying side to side. “You’re actually right on time. I got here early so I can do some extra reading.”

As usual, her voice was timid but oh so heartwarming. It got a content sigh out of Sunset, glad to have some comfort after all the phantom nonsense. She slide into her seat, noting her attire. A white, button shirt and gray skirt. A formal jacket laid in the empty chair next to her.

“You’re dressed for the occasion,” Sunset said, nodding sagely. “That can make all the difference.”

“Rarity lent them to me,” Fluttershy explained, brushed away the wrinkles on her sleeve. “I have to head straight for my interview after school.”

“Good thing we got together to practice then,” Sunset said. The comment was meant as a joke, but her heart grew heavy, tapping her fingers together to ease some of her unease. “I didn’t mean to abandon you yesterday. I would have texted you for a reschedule, but…”

Fluttershy lost some of her glee, but forced a smile and rested her hands in her lap, “I’m sure you had your reasons. You always do.” Sunset swallowed, lowering her head. “But on the plus side, I was able to give Angel Bunny a bath.”

She unzipped her bag and pulled out her rabbit. His fur was as white as snow, but as soon as he was held in front of Sunset, he gestured to her before slamming one paw into the other, bearing his teeth.

“He seems very happy about that,” Sunset said with a smirk. Fluttershy giggled as she placed Angel back in her bag, and Sunset set out to about to get her notes.

“You mentioned detention in your call,” Fluttershy said. Sunset hesitated, hovering a hand over her notebook. “I think Rainbow Dash said Pinkie Pie had it too. Did something happen?”

“Let’s concentrate on your interview for now,” Sunset said hastily. There was bite in her tone, enough for Fluttershy to fall silent. Sunset berated herself. Hiding the reason for her detention wouldn’t get her anywhere, but they needed as much time as possible. It was for a greater good.

Assured of that, Sunset pulled out a stack of books and notes and slammed them on the table. There was a brief cry of terror from Fluttershy, but otherwise she kept her composure. Though, she shook ever so slightly. Sunset spread out documents, books, notes, and other miscellaneous items until the table was covered in them. Fluttershy shook a little harder.

Sunset grabbed a copy of her application, bringing a hand to her chin, “So, based off this, you have all the qualifications for the job: volunteer work, good with animals, even some solid references.”

A small smile ebbed out of Fluttershy, “Principal Celestia was so kind about it too.”

“All that’s left is social skills and your confidence,” Sunset said, setting the application down. Fluttershy hid behind the table, peering over enough to view the sea of notebooks and papers.

“Maybe we can skip that part?” Fluttershy asked, looking up to her with puppy dog eyes. Or rather how she normally looked when desperate.

Sunset patted her shoulder comfortingly, “Don’t worry, you just need to- ...Sora!?”

There he was, poking his head through the double doors. He was in awe, mouth hanging open slightly as he swept his gaze over the library.

“Sora?” Fluttershy asked, lifting her head.

“Uh, Soar a-bove the competition,” Sunset said with a sheepish grin. She had to compliment herself on that one. She pushed over her notebook and tapped a section on speech. “Like what I have written here.”

Fluttershy properly sat in her chair to read, and Sunset looked past her to give Sora the biggest death glare she could muster. When his eyes landed on her, he flinched and shrugged. Sunset motioned her arm to get him to leave, but propped her elbow on the table when Fluttershy glanced to her. Sora looked between her and Sunset before understanding dawned on him. He lifted a finger to his lips and nodded, then wandered to the nearest bookshelf.

Sunset suppressed a groan. He didn’t need to be quiet when nobody could hear him in the first place!

“It says to make eye contact,” Fluttershy whimpered, “and to speak clearly, and to have confidence. That’s a lot to do, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Sunset said bluntly. Fluttershy eeped, staring at the notebook as though it was her undoing. Sunset patted the air in dismay, sparing one last glance to Sora. He tried to grab a book, only for his hand to pass through and whine in disappointment. She shook it away and shifted in her seat to keep him out of view. No distractions, no distractions. “You know, let’s practice. Pretend I’m the interviewer.

“O-okay,” Fluttershy whispered. She took a deep breath and looked Sunset straight in the eyes, and Sunset did the same, keeping herself as pleasant as possible.

“So, how well do you work with others?” Sunset asked, crossing her legs.

Fluttershy faltered but didn’t back down, “Hello, m-ma’am. I do well with others, I have worked…”

Sora stood behind Fluttershy as she spoke. It was sudden. Sunset didn’t even see his approach. His inquisitive expression was enough to gauge his intentions, and when he reached his hand to Fluttershy, Sunset jumped to her feet.

“Stop that!” she exclaimed angrily. Both Sora and Fluttershy recoiled, the former taking several steps back.

“D-did I do something wrong?” Fluttershy asked, shrinking.

“No, no, not you!” Sunset attempted to amend. There was still uncertainty in her, and Sunset sighed. Her excuses drained her with every use. “Phantoms. Well, not phantoms, just one, but he’s still a handful.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy said, facing the table. Sunset played with a strand of her hair. There she went again, lying to her friends. It was so easy to think she could continue without interruption, like Sora would give her the space she needed. If anything, it strained her relationships.

“Can you excuse me for a minute?” she asked. Fluttershy nodded, and Sunset set her sights on Sora. There was a mixture of fear and regret, like staring down a misbehaving child. She nudged her head to the other side of the library and broke away from Fluttershy. At least this “phantom” had some remorse.

“What are you doing?” Sunset asked harshly. Sora winced. While he expected her to reprimand him, it still didn’t feel good.

“I was waiting for you,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think I was getting in the way.”

“You’ve been getting in the way for nearly a week,” she stated, voice rising. “Did you ever think that maybe I’m tired of some invisible guy all over the school distracting me from my friends?”

Distress, while subtle, still came across to Sora, and he felt even worse. She must have picked up on that because her anger mellowed. She stared back at the table with the other girl, who ran her hair between her fingers.

“Your phantoms,” she said with a shrug, “after images, whatever you want to call them - they badgered me until I snapped and took it out on a friend.” She paused. “I still haven’t made up with her.”

Sora deflated, wanting to apologize but stopped himself. There was so much he could say, but nothing fit, nothing worthwhile would change what Sunset had endured. And his heart sank.

He followed her gaze to her friend. She busied herself by sifting through the papers covering the table, doubt etched into her eyes. Her pink hair hid half her face, and was frail in physique, but it was the way that Sunset longingly looked over to her. A desire to make right. A trait they had in common.

“Who’s she?” he asked.

“Her name is Fluttershy,” Sunset replied, almost matter-of-factly.

“She can’t see me either, right?”

It took awhile for Sunset to answer, “No.”

“Then help me so everyone can,” Sora said, holding up a fist. Sunset blinked at him, surprised. “It isn’t fair that my phantoms caused trouble for you, so I’m going to be me again and fix things. But I don’t think I can do it alone.”

It was something to strive for, something he could do. Sunset wasn't so resolute, falling back into her mind to contemplate. A pit fell in his stomach when he considered she might disregard him. His phantoms had done enough damage to sway her choice. It came as a relief when Sunset smiled, modest but encouraging. She puffed out her chest with a hand held out to him.

“Okay, I’ll help you, under one condition,” Sunset said. Sora nodded for her to continue. “Can you let us work in peace?”

Sora gave a big grin, “You got it.”

He met her hand only to grasp nothing. The two had to process that until Sora chuckled awkwardly. Sunset merely cleared her throat, her cheeks tinged in red.

“At least I can’t read your emotions any more,” she said. Sora crossed his arms, completely lost yet again. She waved it off. “I’ll explain later. We’ll meet after school’s over.”

“Right, after school then,” Sora said, resting his hands behind his head. “And… how long is that?”

Sunset rolled her eyes, a hand on her hip, “That optimism of yours is going to wear its welcome.”

There was an oppressive air when Sunset entered the classroom. Media had made detention out to be dangerous, more so for Sunset after her reformation. Cold shoulders and insults were common. That time had passed, and it was far more tame in reality. It didn’t stop her guilt from erupting inside her. Both from the old emotional pain, and having Pinkie Pie face her.

Recognition crossed her features before turning away. Sunset had to suck in a shaky breath, questioning why she couldn’t make amends. Luna nodded to Sunset before returning to her novel. It was a necessary entertainment; they were the only two students in detention, with Luna sitting at the head desk. Sunset made her way to the back of the room, away from Pinkie, as much as it tore her up.

When she collapses into a desk, she laid her head in her folded arms. She didn’t have the energy to be productive, the morning had made sure of that. Being in the same room as Pinkie Pie was hard enough on her. No sign of her at lunch or in the hallways. Just there in detention. Sunset knew when she was being avoided.

It didn’t paint their friendship in a good light.

“You look rough.”

Sunset jumped, knocking her bag on the floor and catching Luna’s attention. Her reaction confused Sora, and Sunset had to fight back a glare. She shifted her bag to rest against her chair as though it was intentional, and Luna overlooked it.

Pinkie didn’t even budge.

Sunset soothed her racing heart before motioning Sora away. Her hand passed through him, but he didn’t take the hint. She wanted some quietude, alone time.

“You said to meet after classes,” Sora explained. Sunset suppressed a groan. “Why’re you all still here? School’s out!”

“Detention!” Sunset whispered, barely audible even to her.

“What was that?” he asked, leaning in with a hand to his ear. Sunset sighed and sat up. She had to get used to having Sora around. It didn’t make it easier to get through school, but the phantoms already made sure of that. As though getting that, Sora slipped into the chair next to hers, brow furrowed.

“I’m guessing you can’t talk now,” Sora said. Sunset would have remarked how well he could figure that out, but settled with a nod. It bothered her that he could sit in the chair without falling through it. In fact, she had grabbed him earlier, then couldn’t even lay a finger on him. The rules changed when he had arrived apparently. Sunset had to speak or go insane from the inconsistency.

“Can you explain anything about your… condition?” Sunset asked. Luna didn’t perk at her speaking, and Sunset was thankful she sat far enough away.

“Beats me,” Sora said, hands behind his head. His indifference struck a nerve in Sunset, and she snagged a book to prop up in front of her. Out of sight, she looked to Sora with enough force to make him wither.

“Aren’t you upset about it?” she asked, catching formulas and numbers from her book in the corner of her eye. “You’re nothing to everyone but me, and it isn’t even clear why you can just sit in a chair without falling.”

Sora relaxed further back. The only indication that he tossed around her concerns was his absent expression. Sunset couldn’t read him. And when he faced her again, it was with that same bright smile. A smile that reminded her of a friend in the same room.

“I know we’ll find something,” Sora said. “You’re smart. Smart enough to make me seeable again.”

Sunset faltered from the compliment, or rather, his confidence in her. He had no qualms placing all of his trust in her, and she hadn’t a shred to spare him any. Her hand smoothed out the corners of the book, all the complicated equations dancing across her vision. It was so much easier to solve.

“No pressure,” she muttered. Sora eyed her but didn’t comment. Despite his overbearance, there was a reflective side to him. It made Sunset curious on what brought it out, what got him to really speak his mind and not fall back to the happy-go-lucky routine. It was the most she had considered him as an actual person since meeting him.

As if her guilt with Pinkie Pie wasn’t enough…

“So why are you in detention?” Sora asked. Not the subject she wanted to bring up, but Sora deserved some answer. His eyes even conveyed that feeling.

Sunset steeled herself, “That friend I hurt? It was after I couldn’t get anything off of the phantoms. Your phantoms. We made a ruckus and both ended up here.”

“Both,” Sora said. He brought his arms down to set them on his lap, and eyed Pinkie Pie. She drew on a large canvas with wide sweeping movements. “So you and her?”

“Pinkie Pie,” she said, resting her chin in her hand. Her chest tightened. “She was only trying to help, but the phantoms wouldn’t stop and I took it out on her. Before you arrived, they were all over the school. Tons of them. Maybe it was for what I did. I deserved it.”

“Don’t think like that,” Sora said. There was no harshness to his words, only kindness. “The phantoms are to blame, not you.”

He was so sure of himself, so sure that Sunset had no reason to blame herself. But it was to make her feel better. She knew she was at fault. The phantoms were like Sora; disruptive but with no ill will.

“That means blaming you too,” Sunset said. Sora hesitated before he nodded. “And you’re all right with that?”

“They were phantoms of me,” Sora said, jabbing a thumb to his chest. “Maybe if I didn’t come here, they wouldn’t either. So, what I’m trying to say is it’s my fault, but not intentionally. You know, an accident. Does that make sense?”

“Nothing makes sense right now,” Sunset said, giving a half-hearted smile. She tried to punch him on the shoulder, but failed. Sora laughed. “Can’t believe I keep forgetting that.”

“Almost like I’m a ghost,” Sora joked, hands behind his head again. Sunset rolled her eyes. He had a knack for staying positive. “A ghost…”

“Huh?” Sunset asked.

“Phantoms of me…” he said. His tone was more somber, thoughtful. “Did the phantoms do anything?”

“Do anything?”

“Yeah, like run on walls or slide over rails?”

“They wouldn’t be distracting if they didn’t do anything,” Sunset remarked. “They left when I found you though.”

Sora squeezed his eyes closed, focusing, concentrating, trying to think. Sunset drew closer, wishing she could give some solace, for whatever it was worth. It really emphasized his estranged presence. And when he lit up, standing to his feet, Sunset nearly did the same. Whatever occurred to him had him agitated.

“The Power of Waking isn’t to go chase hearts around,” he said before looking her in the eye, breathing erratic. “Sunset, I’m not here, not really. I lost my heart and body when I broke the rules.”

Power of Waking, heart and body, rules; all of it swirled in her head without anything to lead to. It was nonsense, but Sora was serious, absolutely serious. To see him in that state flipped her whole perception of him. He set his hand over his heart.

“I’m dead.”

Sunset was sure her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t respond right away either, making noises to fill the gap and had to clench her jaw shut. She had to piece it together in her head, and even then, she still couldn’t believe it.

“T-that’s ridiculous,” she found her voice, hoarse as it was.

“I’ve… been through this before,” Sora admitted quietly. “A friend was able to hold on to me, keep me from really going. I had to collect pieces of myself to return. But I had to save her when the same thing happened to her. I had to break the rules to do it.”

Sunset didn’t want to speak in fear that it would make it all real. She didn’t know why it was so hard to swallow, “And you were gone for good?”

“I’ve gotta be, right?” Sora said. He bowed his head, pacing through the chair he had no problem sitting in. “I walk through things, I can’t be seen, and what happened before… It fits, right?”

There was no reason to ask her. He already knew the answer. Even Sunset, who still didn’t understand, knew it was self-explanatory. Yet every fiber in her wanted to say it wasn’t true, that it was from stray magic, that he was fine. Lies that could cheer him up.

Luna cleared her throat next to Sunset, and she flinched.

“Are you upset about something?” Luna asked. There was no authority, nor disinterest. It was like a mother to a child, genuine worry. Sunset was in a daze, both from the revelation and from Luna. Sora stared blankly ahead. His whole world was turned upside down, but unlike the rest of the day, he didn’t bounce back.

“Just worrying about a friend,” she said. Then quickly added, “It’s not about the phantoms.”

“I see,” Luna said, pressing her hands together. “Then I won’t be a bother.”

Sunset took a moment to wonder if Luna had more to say, but she caught sight of Pinkie glancing back. Their eyes met and both turned away. Pinkie had to think Sunset referred to her, and it hurt to think that it wasn’t the case. Nothing went right for her or Sora.

To think he was dead, a wandering spirit, and appearing before her. It didn’t explain the phantoms, but it was connected.

“You can still see me though,” Sora said. He forced a smile, or maybe his smiles had always been strained. Sunset didn’t know. “I’ll be okay.”

“But we don’t know why I can,” she stated. It was a deflection, a way to push away the faith he kept setting on her. It was more a burden than anything. “You said you’ve been through this before, but this is different. How can you be so sure that I can bring you back from… from death?”

“Because you’re my friend,” Sora said. “That’s how.”

He looked out the window, his smile falling just a enough to be noticeable. The rain still persisted, drumming against the glass. Detention carried on like normal. Luna was engrossed in her book, Pinkie still drew on a large canvas, and Sora drifted to the window to watch the rain. It left Sunset to herself. No interruptions. Memories of her past surfaced. Her tutelage under Princess Celestia, finding the magic of friendship, all the hardships and high points.

She had to sit through the entirety of detention to realize that Sora counted her as a friend despite knowing nothing about her.

Chapter 3: The First Promise

Pinkie Pie had zipped out of detention as soon as it ended. Sunset couldn’t stop replaying it in her head. The way she shot off her seat, her colorful canvas fluttering behind her, and out the door without a glance back. Sunset figured she was avoiding her, that just proved it. Sora hadn’t brought it up. There was clearly a wish to discuss it - the sideways glances and the attempts at small talk. Sunset was glad that was all he did. Even as they stood before Twilight’s house, she considered turning right around to find Pinkie. It was only with Sora by her side, with that same curiosity of his, did she remain rooted to the spot.

“Why are we here?” he asked. He examined the house, lifting his head to get the full picture. Sunset was the same when she first arrived months ago. It was a mansion compared to her home. Stout with a classical feel to it, like something described in old poetry. Besides the tall lightning rods secured to the roof.

“We’re meeting Twilight Sparkle, a friend of mine,” Sunset replied. She rang the doorbell. A melody of chimes reverberated within. “She can find an anomaly in anything she sets her mind to. If she can’t give us something, no one can.” She checked her phone. “I texted her earlier to fill-”

“You have a Gummi Phone?”

Sunset ran a blank, staring ahead before facing Sora.

“Gummi Phone?”

“Yeah, what you’ve got in your hand,” Sora pointed out, brimming with excitement, though that wasn’t new. Sunset wondered how he found near everything so fascinating. She glanced to her phone again.

“This... is a smart phone,” she said flatly, holding it out. “Not a… what’s a Gummi Phone?”

“How is that not a Gummi Phone?” Sora asked back, scrutinizing her phone. “It looks just like it.”

“Never heard of it,” Sunset admitted, ringing the doorbell again.

Sora reached in his back pocket, but his face fell, frantically patting his pants before slouching, “I don’t have it in this form, or anything for that matter.”

Sunset gave a comforting smile, “You’re a ghost - or a phantom, I’m not sure now. Did you expect to have your stuff on you?”

“I did last time,” Sora said with a shrug. The idea of his death still rolled around in her head, unable to set in. At the very least, it kept her occupied. Which prompted her to ring the doorbell yet again. After the third listen, the melody grated on her, but she pressed it again.

Sora hummed along to the tune. An irritated look from Sunset silenced him with a grimace. Sunset checked her phone again. The last message sent by Twilight was her agreement to meet at her place. Sunset would have pounded on the door, to dissipate her building annoyance, but the sound of movement behind it stopped her.

It padded along with scratches on a hardwood floor, grumbling the whole way. There was a grunt and the handle twisted, jiggling the door open. Spike nudged his nose through the crack and peered out, far more annoyed than Sunset was.

“Could you be any louder?” he asked through a yawn, eyes half-lidded. “Mid-day naps are hard enough as it is.”

“Aw, a puppy,” Sora said, crouching down. It got a smirk out of Sunset, seeing him fall to the wiles of a cute dog so quickly. “What’s his name?”

“Hi, Spike,” she emphasized, getting a thumbs up from Sora. “Is Twilight here?”

“I lost sleep for this,” he said. He nodded to the side. “Check the shack. And don’t tell her I called it that.”

Sora stood back up as Spike pushed the door closed, muttering about parents.

“To the shack then?” he asked.

“Lab,” Sunset corrected, following the side of the house. “Twilight’s really particular about that.”

“A lab?” Sora repeated. “For computer-science things, right?”

“In layman's terms, yes,” Sunset replied. It was an odd way for him to describe it, but she let it slide.

The shack itself was in the backyard, near the fence. It was a quaint spot, and the structure was closer to a cabin than a shack. It matched the house in color and style. The door was ajar as Sunset approached, and with reluctance, gently swung it open.

“Twilight, you in here?” Sunset called, peeking inside. Her nose was met with the odor of singed hair. She twisted her face and scanned the room. Since it was Twilight’s own lab away from home, it was cluttered with large electronic consoles. Some were arranged against the wall, faces full of buttons and blinking lights, with one having a receptacle on the side like a washing machine. Sunset squinted. It actually was a washing machine, retrofitted with an antenna. The weak lighting made it hard to see past the door.

“Twilight!” Sunset called again. No response and no sign of her.

“She must have stepped out,” Sora said, looking over her shoulder. Sunset was inclined to agree, though Twilight would have sent a message. She was always on top of her schedules. Sora walked through the door and gazed around in wonder.

He honed in on the closest panel, ogling the small screen displaying a line graph.

“You can’t just walk in without permission,” Sunset said, opening the door further. The natural light still couldn’t reach very far.

“Not like I can break anything,” he replied with a chuckle. He hurried to a crate by the door with the giddiness of a child. “Whoa, check it out! They’re glowing!”

A dozen bottles illuminated the corner with a eerie pasty blue. Sunset didn’t want to know what they were, let alone where Twilight got them. Movement further inside caught her attention. A person slipped around a metal cylinder, large enough to encompass herself. Sunset entered the room carefully, eyeing the loose cords that snaked the concrete floor.

Sora sidled over to the cylinder, still enthralled in the technology. He stood on his tip toes and leaned side to side to see as much as he could. Sunset didn’t know how he could make out much at all, the blipping lights notwithstanding.

Sunset bumped into a side table, and a lamp rattled atop it. She fiddled with it until her fingers brushed across the knob. With a turn and click, the bulb lit up, and there next to the cylinder was Twilight. Her eyes were wide like a deer in the headlights, garbed in a white lab coat with a blue sweater underneath. Blue rubber gloves operated a set of wires, and she shifted the pen between her lips.

Sunset scoffed, but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face, “Working in the dark? You aren’t hiding from me, are you?”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak and the pen plummeted. Her attempts to catch it had her juggle it in the air before snagging it with both hands.

“N-no, of course not!” Twilight protested, genuinely upset. Sora broke away from the cylinder, curious. “I thought the lighting was fine, and I was engrossed in the project. Don’t take it the wrong way! You’re still important, I’m just… getting things ready. For your phantom, the one following you. That phantom.”

She cleared her throat awkwardly. Sora and Sunset spared each other a knowing glance. A minute in and Sora already had an idea of who Twilight was. Sunset was glad he picked up on that fast.

“You know I won’t take it the wrong way,” she said, leaning against the table. “No need to explain yourself.”

“Yeah,” Twilight said, playing with her pen. “You caught me off guard is all.”

Sunset stepped closer, getting a better look at her. Besides the thick frame glasses she always wore, she had a pair of goggles strapped to her head, one with a lens and the other replaced with a magnifier. Her hair was tied into a bun, held up by a pen and pencil, and frazzled. Sunset had an idea where the odor came from.

“She fits the bill for a scientist,” Sora said, gesturing to her.

“She doesn’t always look like this,” Sunset replied. She sauntered to Twilight and threw an arm around her shoulders. Her glasses slipped down her nose and she pushed them back up. “Twilight, meet Sora, the phantom whose phantoms bugged me for a week.”

“Oh, that’s who you were talking to,” Twilight said. There was a short pause, in which she raised a brow, unsure of herself, before she lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Hello.”

“Tell her I say hi,” Sora said, a hand cupped over his mouth.

“He… says hi,” Sunset said. Playing telephone was the last thing she wanted to do, but Sora’s enthusiasm rubbed off on her. Twilight noted her reluctance and furrowed her brow. She slid out of Sunset’s grasp and into an office chair. Another glance to Sora’s spot made her purse her lips before thrusting her legs out to roll over to her computer.

Sora looked to Sunset for an explanation. She merely sighed, expecting that reaction from Twilight, “You don’t believe he’s real.”

Twilight winced, hovering her fingers over the keyboard.

“I didn’t say that,” she said, twirling around. Her expression was stern, but softened when Sunset frowned at her. “Everything I’ve ever learned is telling me that he doesn’t exist, scientifically or magically. Levitating a rock or talking to animals is one thing, but ghosts are a different matter altogether. But you can see him, Sunset. And I believe you.”

Sunset had contemplated how to convince Twilight on the way over. To have her open to the idea off the bat made Sunset want to tackle her into a hug, but settled with a broad smile. She could always count on her.

“So!” Twilight said, getting back to her computer. She typed more code into the program, her fingers a blur as letters raced across the screen. “That’s why I modified my capsule. It should scan anything we put in it and give us any kind of data it reads, even magic. Just need to make a few more adjustments…”

She leapt from her seat and onto the metal cylinder that was the capsule. Sunset was able to pick out a few more details. Several maroon beams wrapped around it in layers with the highest one connected to a colored display hanging over the slide-away door. Twilight opened a lid on its side and pulled out a motherboard, examining it closely.

“She mentioned levitating rocks,” Sora piped up, a hand to his chin, “and talking to animals? What did she mean by that?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Sunset said, brushing back her hair to fully show her necklace. “Me and my friends found these geodes a while back. They give us amazing, magical powers. Twilight can use hers to levitate-”

A screwdriver floated in a lavender aura. It passed by Sunset and Sora, the latter watching as his jaw slowly fell open. Twilight, her hand engulfed in the same aura, let it drop into her grasp, smiling triumphantly.

“That speaks for itself,” Sunset finished, trying not to laugh.

“Cool!” Sora said, pumping his fists. “What can you do?”

“Read a person’s memories and feelings,” she said with a shrug. “Not the flashiest power, but it comes in handy.”

“Can you read me?”

The remnants of his memories returned in force, enough for Sunset to flinch as though struck. They had negative feelings attached to them, and she had no desire to relive them. Whatever Sora had gone through before arriving to Canterlot High School must have been rough. Which made his anticipation hard to shoot down.

“Like I said before,” Sunset said a little too quickly, putting up a forced smile, “my powers don’t work on you as you are.”

Sora whined, but perked up near instantaneously, “Well, it’s something to look forward to when I get my body back.”

Sora was an unseeable to everyone but Sunset, behaving like a ghost, yet still found the upside to everything. She envied him, but his memories still stood out to her. They contrasted him so much, like they were someone else's, and she pondered whether she should keep them to herself.

“It’s so weird when you talk to him,” Twilight said, taking a step back. “That must have been what everyone thought of me before Spike could talk.”

“Before he could talk?” Sora asked. Sunset made a mental note to fill him in later.

“Anywho, I’m done!” Twilight shouted gleefully. She dove for her chair again and whizzed to the computer, reading the text on screen. Her eyes narrowed, humming. “Everything appears to be in order. It’s a little last minute, so we better be ready for anything.”

“Like what?” Sunset asked, already afraid of the answer.

“Oh, you know,” Twilight said with a dismissive wave before shrinking behind the back of her seat. “A power outage.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Yeah,” Twilight said, glaring off to the side, “that’s what I keep telling my parents, but noooo, we have to think of the neighborhood. If the old lady next door tried powering an infused alloy converter, then I’d understand.”

“Twilight,” Sunset said, snapping her out of her rant. Twilight adjusted her glasses with a nervous chuckle.

“Right, digression,” she said standing to her feet. The chair wheeled away. “I got it.”

Sora stared at the capsule. There was a new sense of wonder to him, more reflective. Twilight slapped a button near the door and it slid open. Sora frowned, scanning the interior. Empty save for the grate on the ceiling. He hopped inside, grunting thoughtfully.

“I slept in one of these before,” he said. It was ludicrous to hear, but there wasn’t a hint of humor to his tone. Sunset studied his expression. It was distant and unsatisfied. He grew more mysterious by the minute. “Still not a hundred percent sure why.”

Sunset wasn’t sure what to make of that, but knew what Sora would want to hear. She put a hand on her hip, “We’re not going to put you to sleep if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He looked to her, surprised. A part of her worried she should have said something different, but he smiled. It was different, more genuine, more from the heart. Sunset wasn’t sure why she could tell, given she hardly knew him.

Twilight tapped her foot repeatedly and broke Sunset out of her thoughts. She wasn’t impatient - Twilight tended to rush if she was - but there was plenty of uncertainty brewing inside her. Eyes wandered the room for entertainment before landing on Sunset. Her tapping abruptly stopped.

“He’s inside,” Sunset said.

“Oh!” Twilight lit up, smiling awkwardly. “Good. I couldn’t tell and I would have asked, but I didn’t want to come off as, you know, rude, and I’ll just-”

She pressed the same button as before. The doors clamped shut with a resounding thud. A keypad flipped out and Twilight punched in a string of numbers before hitting the enter key. The machine buzzed, clicking in bursts as electricity arced across the bars.

“You’ll need this,” Twilight said, offering a set of lab goggles to Sunset. Her eyes fell to her clothes, and she blanched. “You forgot your lab coat?!”

“Good of you to notice before starting,” Sunset teased, tugging on the collar of her jacket. Twilight groaned as Sunset took the goggles and strapped them over her eyes. Twilight slipped off her glasses and slid her own goggles down, all the while the capsule intensified. Warbles and bursts of static filled the room. Twilight checked and rechecked several monitors. Sunset left her to oversee it, given she had no idea how anything operated.

A toaster ding resonated and all was still. Until the room went dark with a low purr. Sunset felt like the inky blankness strangled her, and she reached out to the desk behind her to hold herself up. A memory of her time as a she-demon bubbled up. A dark impetus that swallowed her up for power and control. She tightened her grip on the table to ground herself in reality. It was over, a year over in fact. There was no reason to dwell on it. Her panic dissipated enough to pick out Twilight shuffling around.

“My parents are going to ground me for life,” Twilight grumbled. “Scratch that. Have me apologize to everyone on the block first, then ground me!” There was a clang of metal, followed by clattering as though sifting through tools. “Don’t worry, there’s a failsafe in place. I know what to do!”

A soft click and light returned in the shape of a cone. It swept over Sunset before flicking to a large lever on the wall. So large that Sunset couldn’t have missed it before. Twilight reached out, and with some effort, brought it down. The lights clicked on, one by one, and the familiar hum of electricity returned. The capsule door flung open, to reveal a confused Sora, and the printer by the computer spewed out an endless stream of paper.

Twilight, glasses back on and goggles lifted to her forehead, tossed the flashlight back into a toolbox on the floor. The paper had already reached the ground by the time she took ahold of it, skimming through and tossing the paper up like she was handling rope. Sunset tore off her goggles as Sora joined her.

Twilight ripped off the last section and froze. With her back to them, Sunset couldn’t make out what was running through her head. Twilight played with the pen from earlier and set it in her mouth again. A sign of her own speculation.

“Did we get anything out of it?” Sunset asked cautiously. Twilight turned around and held out the paper where a single heart laid. It wasn’t artistic - a simple outline of a symbolic heart - but within its confines was her Cutie Mark in black and white. Sunset could recognize it anywhere.

“That…” Sunset started, searching for the right words before shaking her head, “is ridiculous.”

“No,” Twilight said, rolling the pen between her fingers. She took a deep breath. “It’s amazing! Exceptional even.”

“What?” Sora and Sunset said simultaneously.

“Don’t you see?” she said, shaking the paper. “It means there’s something there! Not a hallucination or a hologram, but a real person. Not in a plane of existence in which I nor anyone else can see him, but to some ability can be seen by you!”

“But what’s my Cutie Mark got to do with it?” Sunset asked. It felt like she was back to square one, back to seeing phantoms zoom by. No hard facts but simple observations. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

Both Twilight and Sora were baffled, looking back and forth between the paper and Sunset. A wave of irritation swept over her. They didn’t know about Cutie Marks and their connection to ponies. She pushed those harsh feelings away, far away.

“A Cutie Mark is a representation of a person and their abilities,” she said, maintaining a level voice. “That Cutie Mark inside the heart essentially represents me.”

“A heart and Cutie Mark,” Twilight said thoughtfully. Her energy diminished in favor of anguish. A revelation had occurred, and it ate at her. “A heart can represent love, compassion, care, but it also means life, existence, to be. That must be from Sora. And with your Cutie Mark there… do you have some connection to him?”

The geode. Sunset clutched it in her hands. The phantoms of Sora had disappeared when she grabbed it. And the real Sora took their place. It didn’t explain why or how she did it, but she did.

“I was the one to pull Sora to our world,” Sunset said, lifting up her geode to gaze into it. A familiar shimmer graced its surface, her engraved Cutie Mark gleamed in the light. Sora didn’t take his eyes off her geode, deep in thought until his lips edged into a smile.

“Thank you, Sunset,” he said. Sunset turned back to Twilight. She didn’t feel like she earned it. Worse, she knew she didn’t. Trying so hard to help her friends only to be foiled and nearly push Sora away. The feel of his clothing came to mind, remembering taking a hold of it. Never letting go until Sora was out of the portal.

Never letting go…

It clicked. Sunset took a hold of Twilight’s wrist and directing her to Sora. When she tried to speak, Sunset held up her hand. Twilight pursed her lips as though scolded. Conflict brimmed in her, but Sunset needed her to cooperate.

“Take your geode,” she said, giving a silent prayer, “and reach out to Sora.”

“But I can’t even see him.”

“Trust me,” Sunset said. It was a hunch, but the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She released Twilight, allowing her to grip her geode, thumb rubbing against the chain. Sunset gesturing to where Sora stood, who furrowed his brow but remaining silent. Twilight extended her hand. Sunset was sure it would work, so her faith plummeted when Twilight passed through as usual.

Sora sighed, “Sorry, Sunset.”

Sunset kicked a loose screw. It skidded across the floor, over the wires, and Sunset wished it would bounce back so she could kick it again.

“Why does nothing work?” she asked, planting her head in her hands. “We get this far but still don’t understand a thing.”

“Sunset-”

“There has to be a missing step. Something, anything.”

“Sunset, please-”

“Maybe we need to get back to the portal. Or-or have Sora touch our geodes instead?”

“It’s me!” Twilight yelled. The silence that followed was deafening. She bowed her head to make herself small. “It has to be me. I said I believed you that Sora was real, but it doesn’t really mean much if I still don’t believe it myself. I’m your friend, and I still needed proof!”

Sunset would have had her stop, apologize herself, but her throat tightened and refused to utter a word. She did it again, broke down in front of another friend. Tears threatened to break over in Twilight’s eyes, and she rubbed them away to hide it. This was what Twilight had concluded earlier, and Sunset hadn’t broached the subject. She was afraid to make it worse, paralyzed on the spot. Sora made to move, caught himself again, and gripped his hair like he would tear it out.

“This can’t be her fault,” he mumbled. “Why does everyone jump to that?”

Because it was how Sunset acted, because she keep putting all this unnecessary pressure on her friends, because she couldn’t accept that sometimes there were setbacks. Her head ran through these explanations. At some point, she had to accept things as they were. Speak up before another friend left.

“Twilight,” Sunset said. Despite herself, she smiled, sad as it was. Twilight was distraught, like back during the Friendship Games. Back to their mistakes and their reparations. “If I was in your position, I’d be skeptical too. No one’s forcing you to believe me.”

“What about Sora?” she asked, clenching her eyes shut. Sora had a sharp intake of air. “He’s stuck as he is, and I treat him like he doesn’t exist.”

“Now you’re just being harsh on yourself,” Sunset interjected. Sora nodded firmly. Twilight flipped her geode in her grip, and it reminded Sunset of herself. “Sora doesn’t hold it against you. He’s actually a really nice guy.”

“He sounds like one,” Twilight grunted. She sniffled and flipped her geode again. “Maybe there is more I can do. An experiment or two, with this data, could give-”

She opened her eyes and halted, blinking at Sora. Not through Sora, but at him, like he was there, standing before her. Sunset didn’t dare speak. She didn’t want to get her hopes up. Sora glanced behind him, equally apprehensive.

“Uh, Sunset,” Twilight asked, pointing to him. “Is that… Sora?”

“You can see him?” Sunset asked, breathless. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah!” Twilight said, laughing nervously. “He’s here. He’s been here, but now he’s here-here. A lot shorter than I expected. Well, not to be rude, but I imagined him as-”

“She can see me!” Sora cheered, rushing over with a laugh. Twilight took a step back, but didn’t retreat. Sunset practically flew over to her, wrapping her in a big hug. Sora held up a triumphant fist. “I knew we’d get something out of this.”

Sunset felt her heart soar, pulling away from Twilight to see Sora again with another genuine smile. They were really getting somewhere. She nearly embraced Twilight again at the thought, but there was pure confusion in her expression. No excitement nor joy. Sunset had seen it before, the look when she had a theory. Sunset quelled her excitement, at least enough to keep things rational. Her smile still persisted.

“So, I can see him,” Twilight stated. Sora nodded, crossing his arms. “Then, is he back? Like, fully back?”

Sunset immediately brushed his shoulder. No such luck. Sora shrugged, still riding out his jubilation. It made it hard for Sunset to be mad at all. It was progress, and there was little that could bring her down. Though, a thought did strike her. She pulled out her phone again, pulling up the camera.

“Let’s check if he can be seen by others,” she said, positioning Sora inside the frame. “The last time I took a picture of him, he didn’t register. I think it has to do with his condition. If he turns up, then we’ll know he’s visibly back.”

Sora chuckled, holding out both hands, “It even has a camera like a Gummi Phone!”

“Again with the Gummi Phone,” Sunset sighed. Twilight was simply puzzled. “Don’t ask.”

Taking the picture, Sunset pulled up the photo to find no Sora within. Her chest tightened ever so slightly. Getting Twilight to see Sora had elevated her expectations. She shook her head, and the other two deflated. Sora was the first to recover.

“At least Twilight can see me,” he said.

“But how did she?” Sunset asked. “What changed?”

Twilight opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again, “I saw him after fully believing he existed. It has to stem from that. My own belief. Maybe that was the problem the whole time. None of us really believed Sora was there. We trusted Sunset, but that was as far as it went.”

“And…” Sunset said, raising a brow, “he just appeared? Just like that? Seems like a coincidence to me.”

“Only one way to find out,” Sora said. He hopped over to her, hovering his hands around her phone in a way to present it to her. he topped it off with the biggest, goofiest grin Sunset had seen on him. Twilight giggled, and Sunset had to suppress a smirk, to little success. She would never know how he had so much zeal.

Still, she didn’t want to call up her friends right away. Pulling up their contacts left her anxious, uncertain. Twilight might have been a fluke, a lucky break, and getting the gang together could lead to nothing. Not to mention they had responsibilities after school, and the time read...

“Wow, it’s getting late,” Sunset said, holding her phone close. Detention had lasted an hour, coupled with getting to Twilight’s place and finding a way to get Sora back, and they were only minutes away from the evening. “I need to get back. Homework, dinner, you know the drill.”

It was only after saying that did she realize it sounded like an excuse. She cringed as Sora and Twilight had to let that sink in before nodding in agreement. She didn’t mean it as an excuse, but it did bring relief. Twilight eyed her a moment until Sunset gave her a funny look. She tried to play it off, leaning back on her heels with her hands held behind her. Subtlety wasn’t her style.

“Come on, Sora,” Sunset said, beckoning him. “You can crash at my place.” She thought about that line. “Do you even need sleep?”

“Don’t think so,” Sora said, hands behind his head. “I don’t need food or water, so I could probably stay up all night.”

“Let’s not test it,” Sunset said. Twilight edged closer, stealing glances to her. Sunset clenched her teeth to prevent herself from bringing it up. It had to do with her, and she wasn’t ready for that. The day was already arduous enough. She cleared those thoughts out and smiled. “Thanks again for your help, Twilight.”

“Yeah,” Sora said with a wave. “Good to meet you too. We’ve gotta hang out later.”

“A-Actually,” Twilight said, picking up her pen to turn it in her hands. “Could Sora stay for a few more minutes? I’d like to run one more test to check something. It’s nothing formal.”

“Oh, what kind?” he asked, lighthearted as always. Twilight hunched her shoulders, averting her gaze.

“Pft, you know,” she said with a forced smile. “The kind that require testing. A note here, an observation there, and a pinch of… well, stuff, and yeah! Heh.”

“Okay, sounds like it’ll be a breeze.”

Sunset didn’t peg Sora for the naive type. Twilight wanted him, certainly, but it was more to speak to him privately. The more that settled in Sunset, the more distant she became. Not angry or betrayed, just distant. It was a far cry from their small achievement.

“You sure it’s not to get some alone time?” she joked. It was hollow, forced even. It did amuse her to see Twilight blush, degrading into a blubbering mess. Sora flashed a grin. It reassured Sunset that things would turn out fine. That her friends had no malicious intent behind their meeting. It was something Sunset needed. Usually, Princess Twilight was the only one to give her that kind of encouragement.

“Is Sunset doing all right?” Twilight asked Sora. It was a question he wasn’t ready for. It wasn’t like he had anything to do after Sunset left. Twilight simply wrote on a notepad, studying so closely her glasses nearly touched his clothes.

He took his time to think on the answer, and Twilight gave it to him. A couple scribbles on her pad, and the occasional glance to him, was all she did.

“Is there a reason she wouldn’t?” he asked. She flicked her eyes to his. They were sharp, like he would expect from a scientist. He hadn’t met a lot in his travels, but her methods to get information were concise. It was a forwardness Sora didn’t expect from her.

“When did you meet her?” Twilight asked, shifting the notepad under her arm. Something told Sora this wasn’t part of the test.

“Uh, this morning,” he answered. She took a step closer to stand directly in front of him. “Is something wrong, Twilight?”

Her face scrunched up, fingers tightening over her pen. Then it all fell away. She spun around, and took hasty strides to her workbench, strewn with machinery parts.

“I’m not sure,” she replied, propping her arms on the workbench. “She seems, I dunno, tired. All the business with the phantoms bothered her enough, and now she has you around now. I think she’s…”

“Trying to do everything herself?” Sora finished, crossing his arms. Twilight pulled her head back, looking to him curiously. “My friend, Riku, was the same for a while. I lost him once and searched everywhere to find him.”

It reassured Sora to see Twilight face him comfortably, giving her undivided attention. There was a mixture of concern and interest, a silent request to continue.

Sora grunted, “Well, turned out he didn’t want to be found. He had to do everything on his own. I had to catch up with him and remind him he had friends around to rely on.”

Twilight brought her hands together. Her expression was unreadable, though Sora wasn’t good at that anyway. It tore him up to think Sunset was in turmoil and he was blind to it. Even Twilight had picked up on it, and social skills weren’t her forte. Sora remembered Sunset spew questions at him, and he didn’t have a single answer to them. He wanted her help to return to his old self, make things right, but he couldn’t do that if he didn’t know Sunset at all.

“Riku does sound like Sunset,” Twilight piped up. Her hands rubbed her arms for comfort, lost in her words. “Putting so much burden on themselves to make things right, and always forgetting they aren’t alone.” She swallowed. “Sora, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” he said, waving dismissively, “you’re just worried about Sunset.”

“Not just that, but denying your existence too. It’s already hard on her to help you out, and I wasn’t helping at all. She’s lucky to have you around, to keep her company.”

“I wish I could do more,” Sora said with a shake of his head. “Even today, Sunset had to handle everything, and she’s already doing a lot. Maybe I should give her some space, just to cut her some slack.”

“Sora,” Twilight said, saddened. There was a lengthy pause, in which Sora wasn’t sure what to expect from her. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, standing resolute with arms held rigidly at her sides. “I need you to make me a promise.”

Chapter 4: An Additional Factor

Sora had to reread the magic journal again, because it was too amazing to be true. Traveling to several worlds had prepared him for some weirdness. Sacrificing himself to save his friends and appearing at Canterlot High School was another day in the life for him. Though, reading the words of Twilight Sparkle - a different Twilight Sparkle - was something to behold. Especially as it wasn’t any heart or body manipulation like with Xehanort.

“So, this Twilight is from another world?” Sora asked, tearing away from the open journal on the couch.

“Mm-hm,” Sunset confirmed from within the mini fridge. She shuffled around cans and jars, clattering every so often. “We keep in touch with that magic journal. Any time I need advice, I can write to her.”

“That’s amazing,” Sora said in a hush. The Gummi Phone made communication between worlds trivial, but a book that utilized magic was on a whole other level. The urge to write a greeting had him futilely grasp for the nearby pencil. His hand passed through the cushion and Sora nearly followed after it.

Then letters scribbled onto the page, illuminating the couch in a lavender glow. It distracted Sora enough for him to fall through it. The question of why he didn’t fall through the ground was raised and quickly dashed as he hurried back to his feet. It was from Twilight, but a different person in a different world, and Sora couldn’t control his giddiness.

“She’s writing something!” he said. Sunset pulled back to peer over to him. There was a touch of interest in her features before an amused smile emerged. She pulled out a bag of carrots and opened it.

“Read it aloud,” she said.

“All right,” he nodded, squinting. “Uh, ‘Sunset! I hope my last message went through, I haven’t heard back from you. I’m letting you know that the phantoms may have something to do with a strange visitor. Princess Celestia and I sent letters back and forth all day to figure it out. Apparently somepony’… Somepony?”

“Keep reading,” Sunset said, snapping off the point of a carrot.

Sora looked at her funny but returned to the book, “‘Apparently somepony paid her a visit, but couldn’t form himself properly, coming out as a sort of ghost entity. He vanished through the portal to your world long before either of us were her students. It isn’t a lot to go on, I’m afraid. Let me know what you’ve been doing.’”

Sunset grunted, “I should probably do that before she gets stir crazy.”

“This is so cool,” Sora said with a swing of his arm. “I have so many questions- Oh wait, there’s more.” The light died down when he leaned back over the book. “‘Also, I’m not sure if you read yesterday’s message, so be sure to do that.’ Why’s that? You trying to ignore her?”

A half-eaten carrot flew through Sora. He gazed at the vegetable before setting his hands on his hips with mock disappointment.

“Don’t be wasteful,” he said. “The place is a mess as it is.”

Another carrot sailed through him. He brandished a smile and chuckled. Sunset threw the refrigerator door closed, a carrot hanging in her mouth, and weaved past the pole supporting the loft. Sora still couldn’t believe she lived all alone. He wouldn’t have gone a night without a friend or family member nearby. He eyed the journal again. She wasn’t completely alone.

“How’d you meet Twilight?” Sora asked. “The one from the journal, I mean.”

“It’s a complicated story,” Sunset said. She tapped a carrot to her chin before munching on it. Sora was familiar with stories like that. If she had asked him about Xehanort, he wasn’t even sure where he would start. Sunset swallowed, hesitated, then smoothed out the already smooth page. “I’m actually from the same world Twilight’s from.”

“Oh, nice,” Sora said. Sunset stared at him, narrowing her eyes before pulling her head back. He merely blinked. “What?”

“I know your situation probably makes you numb to outlandish revelations,” Sunset said, gesturing a carrot to him, “but I just told you I’m from another world. As in, not from here. As in, you should be a little wary.”

Sora laughed, “I’m from another world too.”

Sunset widened her eyes, straightening herself. Sora could hear Donald scream about the World Order in the back of his mind. Enough travels had etched that phrase into his head. It never accounted for other travelers like Merlin, so Sunset had to be an exception too.

“Oh,” she said simply. “Then, before you became a ghost…”

“Yep,” Sora nodded. “There are loads of other worlds out there too. I was originally from Destiny Islands until-”

He cut himself off. While the two did come from other worlds, the Heartless was an entirely different entity. It was hard to say whether Sunset knew or not, but Sora swallowed any words he had on the subject. It was a peaceful place. No need to bring unneeded worry.

“Until you arrived here?” Sunset finished with a tilt of her head.

“Something like that,” Sora said, scratching his head. Sunset had a look that read everything he didn’t say, and it irked Sora to keep something from her. She was open to him about being from another world, and that was meant to remain a secret.

Sunset drew her gaze back to the journal before falling onto the couch. She set aside her carrots in favor of a pencil and pulled the journal up. She wrote a few words before looking to Sora. It bore into him, making him cringe, until she smiled and nudged her head to the seat beside her.

He eased into the seat, finding it was as solid as the desk at Canterlot High School. The way his physics worked, there was no way to understand how it was possible. It didn’t concern him too much. Watching Sunset fly through the page, he caught certain parts about phantoms and himself, but didn’t read into it.

“In my world, we’re ponies,” she stated. She paused to look for a reaction before slowly returning to her writing. “Princess Celestia and Princess Luna rule over Equestria as the Royal Sisters. Some time ago, the portal to this world was discovered, and during my studies under Princess Celestia…” She pursed her lips, bowing her head. Her hair fell to hide her face. Sora studied her, hoping to pick something out of it. He really wished he was good at reading others. She jolted back and moved her hair behind her ear. “I decided I’d live here. Twilight Sparkle keeps me up to date in Equestria. She’s a princess too, so she has her own responsibilities, but since she’s the only contact I have to home, she makes time for me.”

She flourished the last letter before clapping the book shut.

“Now, homework.”

“Homework?!” Sora balked. Sunset rolled her eyes as she reached out for her backpack. Even as she dragged it over, Sora had to register he had heard right. “You tell me you’re from another world and still have to worry about that? And what about Twilight? Don’t you want to read her response?”

“She’s a princess,” Sunset reminded offhandedly. She extracted her math book. Opening it revealed enough equations and numbers to give Sora a headache. “She’ll keep herself busy before I write back. And as for homework, if I want to live here, I have to follow its rules.”

“I can’t imagine doing that everyday,” Sora sighed, resting back against the couch. His hands naturally found themselves behind his head. His foot kicked up to set on top of the other.

“Honestly, I can’t imagine you doing it for one day,” Sunset said, already writing out problems.

“Say that again!” Sora said, sitting up. His irritation was given away by his playfulness. Sunset couldn’t stifle her giggles. It was nice to hear. To see her relax was even better. She returned to her work, and Sora daydreamed.

He daydreamed about his friends, about Kairi and Riku. About the events leading to the defeat of Xehanort. Then how he ended up here, seen only by Sunset Shimmer - until Twilight could too. He took comfort in their meeting and their mutual goal. There was a lot he had to make up for, but the two were in good company. The scritches of Sunset’s pencil filled the stagnant air.

Like a switch, Sora really wanted to do something meaningful right then and there. Something significant. Anything to continue the good vibes, so they wouldn’t dry up. All that came to mind were activities he couldn’t do as he was. His muscles tensed, then eased themselves. What he wouldn’t give to have his body for a minute.

The night was lonely when one couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t a fact Sora was happy to learn. It was more akin to waiting than resting for the next day. Lying on Sunset’s couch was like lying back in his bed in Destiny Islands. Before they would set sail. Before the Heartless. His eyes traced over the metal pipe rattling every so often and the suspended bulbs. In his mind’s eye, he saw the wooden toy boat hanging by threads. Two sailors, smiles stitched to their faces, stared back.

It was weird to think on that time. A world-ending event that led from one crazy adventure into the next until he ended up at Canterlot High School. Always around friends, even when he was nearly swallowed by darkness. Even here, Sunset slept in the loft above, barely even out of sight. Yet the night was long, dark, and he had hours to mull on it.

The window framed it all perfectly. A blanket of black encompassing the world, pricked with lights. Other worlds, other people, nearly destroyed by Xehanort. A scary concept that wormed into his head. It hit him hard to see his friends defeated and gone. To imagine all the worlds share the same fate was unthinkable. It made Sora vulnerable suddenly, powerless, useless. He turned to his side to push the thoughts away. Sunset was with him in the same room. That was all he needed.

“Sora?”

It nearly made him jump to hear Sunset call from her loft. He hesitated to answer, but couldn’t pretend to sleep. He was a ghost! Then, pondered why he even had to hesitate in the first place. His nerves mellowed and allowed him to speak without a stutter.

“Yeah?” he asked. There was a period of silence, as though the two appreciated their presence.

“What’s your world like?”

Sora was glad she asked. It opened up tons of memories. He smiled fondly, “Lots of beaches! Me and my friends would go to another island to spar and play around. Exploring, games, and then watching the sunset before heading home, heh. It felt like it’d never end.”

“Sounds fun,” Sunset said with a quiet chuckle.

“You gotta visit sometime. The sound of the waves are unforgettable. And the Paopu fruit! They say that if you share it with someone, your destinies are intertwined or something like that.”

“Really,” Sunset said. It was thoughtful, but also curt. It got Sora to recount the snippets of what he learned about her. Lots of friends, working hard for them and herself, helping a stranger like him. Nothing really on her. So many conversations on their connection, and he simply knew she was from another world, as a student. That was it.

“Sora?” she asked, much more somber.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re real.”

His heart leapt into his throat. He wasn’t one to read too much into things, but this was heartfelt. He was tempted to step up to her loft, to see her and remind themselves that they weren’t alone on this night. In the past, he could apply his guilt to help others, fix problems. It came naturally to him, and it worked. Instead, he stayed distant, unable to make a difference.

He shook off the mindset, and managed a smile.

“I’m glad too.” He reiterated the promise he made with Twilight. “Hope you sleep well.”

“No promises.”

A whole day since they had met and Sora wanted nothing more than to know more about her.

“So, let me get this straight,” Sora said. Sunset broke away from her phone to see him scrunch his face, conflicted. Waking up late had made the morning frantic. She wasn’t surprised he needed clarification. The walk was erratic too, finding herself stride ahead or fall behind with short steps when her phone chimed. Sora had to pace himself to stay beside her. “We’re going to talk to your friend, Rainbow Dash, then go through school, then detention, then the yearbook club, then see Twilight again?”

“Yeah,” Sunset said hurriedly, glancing to her phone for a reply. “Rainbow is the most willing to believe in ghosts, so we can try out the theory of believing in your existence, the yearbook needs a new slot for the Fall Formal and I don’t want Wallflower to do it alone, and we need Twilight to run more tests on you as soon as possible. Did I miss anything?”

He stopped long enough for Sunset to reach the next intersection, then ran to catch up. Still no word from Rainbow Dash. It put Sunset into a tizzy. A simple confirmation was all she needed, it couldn’t be that hard. At the same time, she wondered if her other friends had put her off. There was no word from Fluttershy about her interview, and Sunset hadn’t spoken to Pinkie Pie and Rarity since their episodes. Applejack came to mind, and Sunset wasn’t even sure where she stood. An exhausted sigh escaped her throat.

“You should take it easy,” Sora said. Her eyes snapped to him. There was no flinch, no apologetic smile, just sincerity. She sagged her body, but still drew back to her phone. Nothing. Her legs carried her as she raked her mind for a proper response to Sora. “Come on, you practically woke up with all that worry.”

“Cause there’s a lot to worry about,” Sunset said with a dull shrug. The way that came out was too instinctive, as though it explained everything. She sighed again. A headache formed in the side of her head. Sora stepped a little ahead of her and leaned in, face to face.

“I know I’m not making this easier for you,” he said, scratching his cheek. Sunset averted her gaze. “Why not skip trying to get me seen for a day? Like you said, my phantoms already caused enough trouble. You deserve a break.”

Her head was too clogged with assignments, preparations, and relationships to even consider a break. She rubbed her head, and almost yelled at Sora that he didn’t have to worry because he didn’t have to do anything. Her heart ached at even thinking about it.

“I’m too busy,” she said as the school came into view. She was glad, both as a way to sort out her responsibilities and not having to drive more guilt into her gut. She couldn’t bear to see his reaction.

She sent one last message to Rainbow to meet her in the lobby. Whatever kept her busy had to be important if she didn’t reply right away. Sunset could work on other projects until she arrived, or until classes started. She sorted them out in her head, passing the school foundation and across the front lawn.

“Sunset,” Sora hissed. It was urgent, and Sunset ripped herself out of her mind to face him. The foundation had his attention, and for the first time, he showed genuine anger. The marble was untouched, smooth and flat with immaculate edges. Nothing out of place. She kept her vigilance. Sora was on edge for a reason.

“What is it?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Sora turned to her, brow furrowed deeply, hands clenched, “Maleficent.”

“Who?”

“She’s there,” he pointed to the same foundation. There was a fire in his eyes, far more intense than Sunset wanted to see from him. It was like he turned into a different person. Sunset pulled away to focus on the point, stepping lightly. The portal wasn’t affected, as far as she could tell.

“I don’t see…” she started before a figure faded in, “anything…”

The figure was transparent, but towered over them. Her charcoal cloak hung down to the ground, dragging along the concrete path. Two horns jutted out her head like a beast. Sunset shivered. Seeing the stand-out features already made her fearful. This was Maleficent, and Sunset understood the name a little more.

Maleficent threw out her arm to brandish her staff. It was wooden and topped with a sickly green orb. She brought it close to the portal with a certain glow Sunset only associated with magic, and the portal came to life, swirling around within the marble. To reveal it put a jolt of fear in Sunset, and when Maleficent reached for it, Sunset acted without a second thought.

“Stop!” she barked, loud enough to hurt her throat. Maleficent retracted her hand and turned with the curiosity of a millionaire bearing down on the poor. Her face was a pale lime, framed within a black hood. Every small twitch of her lips or eyes stood out. Sora stuck close to Sunset. She had no idea what Maleficent was about, but she trusted Sora, and her own judgement.

“Oh my,” she said with more inflection than necessary. “What have we here? A small child full of herself? Your tantrums will do you no good.”

“What do you want with the portal?” Sunset demanded.

“It isn’t the portal I desire,” Maleficent waved off. Her hands were thin with long, pointed fingernails. “It’s what lies on the other side. What does it matter to you?”

“That’s my home,” Sunset growled, “and I’m not going to let you waltz in.”

“I appear for nary a minute, and already marred by empty threats. You have a knack for perceiving darkness, I will give you that.”

Her voice oozed with sarcasm. She saw Sunset as a bug to shoo away. The fact Maleficent sought after Equestria twisted her stomach into a knot.

Maleficent chuckled lowly, “Ah, even you recognize your own futility. Such a pity too, but allow me to indulge you. Your world was shrouded from both light and darkness. However, that shroud fractured to reveal this world, and I followed through it to find your ‘home.’ And what does it have? Friendship.” She spat out the word, revolted at the very sound of it. “The source of all friendship, no less. This world kept it secret, but no longer.”

“What are you going to do?” Sunset quivered with hate. She hadn’t felt like that in a long time.

“You’re a smart one,” Maleficent huffed. “Figure it out. I gave you a treat, now quiet down like a good girl. I have business to attend to.”

“Whatever she’s up to, it’s no good,” Sora stated, somehow keeping his voice level. Sunset wasn’t sure she could speak without shouting. “I’ve run into her before. She’s tried to pull the worlds into darkness.”

Sunset clenched her teeth. “Darkness” was ambiguous, but Maleficent fit the description perfectly. After all, Sunset had seen people succumb to their darker sides, herself included. A ray of light broke through her clouded rage. Maleficent could be another person locked behind their own darkness. It dismantled all of the pent up aggression Sunset had accumulated, leaving her exhausted. It was a sudden swerve from her first impression, and she berated herself for falling for it.

There was a brief flash of light from the portal. Maleficent held her hand close as though burned.

“Blast!” she cursed.

“Why are you after the Magic of Friendship?” Sunset questioned. Every fiber burned to get Maleficent away from the portal, but she had given plenty of people a second chance.

“Magic of Friendship?” Maleficent grunted. “Fascinating. It would explain why the darkness is still too weak here. Moreover, why so soft, my dear? Have you recognized-?”

She halted upon scrutinizing Sunset. There was recognition in her otherwise passive expression. It irritated her more than anything.

“Radiant, bright, unparalleled,” she said with a hum. “Yes, I thought the light here was familiar.”

She hovered her hand in an arc, and from the grass, dark beings arose. They were hunched, little monsters, rising no higher than the waist. Two antenna writhed with a mind of their own. Sunset took a step back when she caught the two lifeless yellow orbs that were their eyes.

“Heartless!” Sora cried.

“Heartless?” Sunset repeated, trying to face Sora while keeping her gaze firmly on the monsters.

“Eliminate her,” Maleficent said flatly, pointing straight to Sunset.

The Heartless stalked her like predators to prey, crawling or lurching closer. She counted a dozen of them, all exactly the same, and all with sharp claws. Defenseless, that was what she was. Unlike Maleficent, there was nothing to humanize from these things, and she had nothing to defend herself.

“Get back!” Sora yelled, lunging forward. His hand glowed and a large key flashed into existence. He swung with all of his might at the closest Heartless. It passed clean through with no change. They spread out, flanking Sunset on either side. “What? I can’t attack them either?”

Sunset had no clue what he meant. The giant key threw her off. In fact, a lot of things were happening pretty fast. Her breathing increased. She couldn’t move, couldn’t get her legs to get away. Dread welled up in her. One of Heartless pounced, too quick to react to.

“Sunset!”

A white barrier blinked into existence. The Heartless slammed into it and toppled onto the ground. It took a second for Sunset to realize she was saved, and another second to recognize the jewel-styled shield defending her.

“Good heavens,” Rarity gasped for air. Both her palms were held out, the geode hanging from her necklace glowing white. “No more ‘just in time’ rescuing. Sprinting in a dress is awful!”

“Nice save!” Sora cheered, thrusting a hand into the air. Relief flooded through Sunset.

Maleficent tightened her hold on her staff. The Heartless attempted to strike the shield, but their effort made no impact. They weren’t the brightest, but they were persistent. Sora sidestepped the Heartless to return to Sunset.

“These are Shadows,” he informed, gesturing to another Heartless scratch the shield. “They’re not too bad on their own, but she needs to make sure they don’t swarm her.”

“Rarity?” Sunset asked. From the way he spoke, he handled them before, enough to have a strategy.

“Yeah, tell her,” he said firmly.

Sunset spared a second to discern his tone, and Maleficent spoke up first.

“Heartless, turn your attention to the other girl,” she exclaimed. “Overwhelm her!”

The Shadows obeyed instantly, turning tail and charging to Rarity. She was fazed, but set up a shield without hassle. More emerged from behind her, and with a quick wave of her hand set up a wall around herself. Their claws tore portions off, and some clung to the top, nearly dropping inside.

“Don’t let them swarm you!” Sunset warned. Rarity managed a nod before pushing her shields out. Heartless tumbled to and fro before getting back to their feet.

“Erm,” Rarity hesitated a moment, throwing up another barrier. “Would you know how to stop these… monsters?”

“She has to destroy them,” Sora said, plopping a fist into his palm. Sunset balked, and Sora quickly shook his head. “No, I mean it! They’re beings of darkness. It’s not hurting anyone.”

“U-Use…” Sunset said, trying to wrap her head around what was happening, and yelled inwardly to focus. “Use your barriers to destroy them!”

“What?!” Rarity exclaimed. “Surely there’s-” a Shadow smashed its head through the barrier, swiping his claws to reach her. Rarity recoiled. “Ah! Back, you horrible beast!”

With another barrier to her side, she shot it like a frisbee and sliced through the Shadow as the barrier vanished. It dissolved into black mist, vanquished. Sunset wasn’t expecting that, and neither was Rarity as she tilted her head to the side. Shaking it off, she repeated the process and threw two more barriers. A pair of shadows were defeated.

“Only a fraction of their power,” Maleficent grumbled. Sunset caught her back away, barely staving off her anger. “Darkness needs time to take root and fester.” Their eyes met briefly, and a shiver ran up Sunset’s spine. “I did learn some valuable information.”

Emerald flames erupted around her. They burned high enough to conceal her, and when they died down, Maleficent was gone. Scorch marks sullied the pavement. Sunset was convinced it was magic, but none that she had seen. In fact, none that even Princess Twilight had seen.

“Gah, there’s too many,” Sora said. He had his fists up as though he would rush over again.

The Heartless surrounded Rarity. Her barriers came up when one came too close. On the defensive, with no end in sight. Sunset searched her brain for anything, something, to help. With another surge of her shields, Rarity made an opening through them and took it.

“Stay back!” she cried, searing another barrier through a nearby Shadow.

“Any more advice?” Sunset asked Sora desperately.

He studied the scene, turning his head from the foundation to Rarity to Sunset. He lit up.

“Call for backup!” he said. “Friends help each other.”

“And the geodes,” Sunset nodded, filling in the blanks. She got her phone out just as Rarity reached them. A barrier separated them from the mass of Heartless, dotting the lawn. They swarmed the shield, climbing atop one another to no avail.

Sunset hurried through the menus on her phone until she reached the messages. Then her heart rate spiked. There was plenty of friends to call or message, but they wouldn’t reach them in time.

Rarity grunted, struggling. The Heartless relentless beat against the barrier. Their lifeless eyes hungry.

Rainbow Dash was fast, she could get her, but she hadn’t even messaged her back!

“A plan would be- gah!” Rarity buckled, but remained standing. Her arms shook. “A plan would be good right about now!”

Sunset had no choice. She sent a message, short and to the point.

We’re in trouble! Help!

Rarity couldn’t hold it. Sora watched with clenched teeth, just as worthless as Sunset. It hurt them both. Yet Sunset was real. She was a target too. And it clicked in her head. She wasn’t worthless.

She broke off from Rarity and Sora. A few Heartless did the same, giving chase. Rarity called after her, but her thoughts were too loud to hear. Thoughts that bounced from her insanity to turning back to keep running. Until she was far enough away to catch a glimpse of a good number of Shadows on her heels.

A lot happened. Rarity was able to slice through the few Shadows that lingered. The ones chasing Sunset were too much to count. And above all, to her surprise, Sora ran to keep by her side. There was determination, not fear for her life or anger for risking it, but an expression that told her all she needed to know.

He was used to this.

A rainbow blur zigzagged down the road, and Sunset felt her heart swell. With her backpack, Sunset whipped around and knocked the closest Shadow away. Just in time for a soccer ball to crash into it midair.

Rainbow Dash retrieved and launched the ball through three more by the time Sunset registered it. She zoomed by her, hair billowing from the speed, and looped around the Heartless to confuse them. Finally, she stopped by Rarity, tossing the soccer ball to herself. Rarity moaned on wobbly legs.

“Wish Sunset texted me about this sooner,” Rainbow said, softening.

“Enough talk,” Rarity replied curtly. She pulled herself up, needlessly brushing her skirt.

“Yeah, these things aren’t the waiting type.”

Rainbow dropped the ball into a kick. It blazed through a line of Shadows before Rarity put up a shield to ricochet it through another set of Shadows. Sunset was always amazed how well the girls worked together in a crisis. Rainbow got the ball to a high enough speed, and Rarity simply redirected it to take out so many Heartless at once. And there she was, on the sidelines.

“Way to go!” Sora cheered, leaping into the air. Sunset stared at him, then to the girls. They couldn’t see him. He caught her reluctance, and smiled warmly. “Hey, I can give my support. Heartless aren’t pushovers.” He winced slightly, crossing his arms. “Buuuut, I could use some help showing it.”

“Get a dome ready!” Rainbow Dash cried. “Leave some space for the ball.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Rarity said, shifting her feet.

She kept her stance wide, and with some effort, crafted a dome of barriers around the remaining Heartless. They immediately scrambled to the edges to scrap their claws for freedom. Rarity gritted her teeth, sweat glistening on her forehead.

Rainbow was several yards away, the ball set between her and the dome. The hole provided was just big enough as she lined herself up.

Sunset tensed, but remembered Sora’s request, and ran a few steps ahead. She took a deep breath.

“You got this, Rainbow!”

As though on cue, Rainbow surged forward and kicked the ball. The speed sent it rocketing through the opening. It bounced wildly within the dome like a pinball machine. A few splashes of black and white while the Shadows were taken out, one by one, in quick succession. By the time the ball rolled to a stop, there was nothing left.

“All right!” Sora yelled. Sunset chuckled, though it was more from relief.

Rarity sank to her knees. Her breath was erratic, and her arms hung limply at her side. Rainbow was winded, but had a grin that showed her enjoyment. Sunset was just glad they were alive. Even taking a deep breath couldn’t calm her nerves. Maleficent came out of nowhere, and the Heartless even more so.

Sora hurried to Rainbow and Rarity, gesturing Sunset to follow. Her muscles protested, but she ignored them. Seeing her friends alive gave her enough energy.

“What was that?” Rarity said with a big gulp of air. Rainbow offered her a hand and she took it, shakily getting back to her feet. Her legs looked like they would crumble again.

“I was thinking the name ‘Thunderdome,’” Rainbow said, a hand to her chin.

“Thunder…” Rarity muttered before groaning. “No! Not that attack, the monsters! Are you not the least bit concerned that they tried to hurt Sunset?”

“Well, of course,” Rainbow shrugged as Sunset joined them. Sora stayed back, merely listening. “But she’s fine. We took care of them without a scratch. No harm done.”

“And I really do appreciate it,” Sunset said, mustering a smile. It fell away as she scanned the battlefield. There was upturned dirt and grass across the lawn. “But I don’t think those things are the last of them.” Sora nodded, and she momentarily wondered how he knew about them. “Actually, they’re definitely not the last of them.”

“What were they?” Rarity questioned. She held a hand to her chest to ease their breathing. Her eyes flicked to Sunset. “They wouldn’t happen to be your, um, phantoms, would they?”

“What!?” Sunset and Sora said simultaneously.

“Of course not,” Sunset said with a swipe of her hand.

“Oh thank goodness,” Rarity said quickly. She held the back of her hand to her forehead. “They were absolutely dreadful. And now that I recall, you did mention he was a person.”

“Always jumping to conclusions,” Rainbow said with a roll of her eyes to the school. The windows caught her attention and she nudged Rarity. “By the looks of it, half the school saw that battle.”

The windows had a handful of students spread out, either staring wide eyed and scared, curiously, or even nonchalantly. There was enough raised phones for Sunset to figure that the Heartless would be across the internet in less than a minute.

“To answer your question, Rarity,” Sunset spoke up. She choked, long enough for the others to raise their brows. She glanced back to Sora, though she didn’t know what she wanted from him. Encouragement, confirmation, or support. Maybe all three.

Though, he did know about them, and her face grew grim. He knew about Maleficent, about the Heartless, and possibly more, but never once brought it up. They had nearly killed them. Sora picked up on her mood, scratching the back of his head.

“Actually, I need to introduce you to Sora first,” Sunset said, tempering herself. One step at a time. She held her arms out to him like a car salesman. “He’s the phantom that’s been, well, used to bother me.”

“That’s awesome!” Rainbow spoke over Rarity, who looked both unconvinced and a little peeved at the change of subject. Rainbow stepped closer to Sora, but like the rest, stared right through him. “Is he here? How do you know his name? Is he really back from the grave? You gotta give me the details. This is important!”

“So you believe he’s really here?” Sunset asked hastily. Her expectations were influx, assuming Rainbow both could and couldn’t see Sora. “You believe he exists?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Rainbow said, puffing out her chest, proud as could be. “They have to exist, and this Sora guy is no different. Though, maybe he should have a different name. Sora is so lame.”

“I’m right here,” Sora said, turning away with his arms crossed. There was no indication that Rainbow saw him nor heard him, and Sunset groaned. Sora dropped his head. “Still, guess it wasn’t based on belief, huh?”

“That obvious?” Sunset snapped. Her anger flared up again. First Maleficent and Heartless, then still finding no concrete way to get him seen. It was plain infuriating how things turned out. “Are you going to explain what those Heartless were? Or Maleficent?”

“Who are you talking to?” Rarity asked, setting a hand on her shoulder. Sunset had to stop herself from shoving it off.

“Duh, Sora!” Rainbow said, resting her elbow on Sunset’s other shoulder. “He’s gotta be right here. So did he summon those things? What did you call them, Heartless? Are they his underlings?”

She was pretty peppy about the idea that Sora was the one behind the attack. They might as well be, given he knew about them. She shook off her aggression. As much as Sora deserved some rebuke, he wasn’t the one responsible. It didn’t cool her head, however.

“Well, Sora?” she asked, trying and failing to keep a calm voice.

His head jerked back an inch. Not much but noticeable. It stung him, and he tore away from her to look to the school. There was a sense of anguish, and it left him melancholy and hesitant. His eyes closed, and with a sharp turn, summoned that large key again for Sunset to see.

A square, yellow guard with a silver blade. A cut-out crown sat at the end as the teeth. A key chain hung by the handle: three circles angled to represent… something. If Maleficent, Heartless, and darkness puzzled her, then the sword-like key was a complete mystery.

“I’m a keyblade wielder,” he stated. That same determination from before returned. “And if Maleficent’s here, then I really need to get my body back.”

Chapter 5: Little Talks

Sunset rubbed the palm of her hand against her forehead. Trying to properly understand the Heartless and Maleficent was an ordeal. The keyblade complicated matters, though she was familiar with teenagers saving the day, so it wasn’t entirely new. However, it was downright exhausting having to relay all of this to Rainbow Dash and Rarity. They had more questions than even she did, and she was the inquisitive one.

By the time they had it sorted out, Sunset came to one conclusion.

“This is a lot bigger than any of us,” she said, sagging her shoulders. Rainbow and Rarity fidgeted, and Sora nodded glumly. “With the Heartless here, they’ll keep growing until this world falls into darkness. And if what Maleficent said is true, then Equestria is the heart of friendship.”

“And the day started out so lovely,” Rarity said with a dramatic sigh. “Though this certainly isn’t new. Surely our powers can fight back those monstrosities like any other villain we’ve faced.”

“Yeah, don’t think so,” Rainbow Dash stepped in, a hand held up to Rarity. “Like Sunset said, this is bigger than any of us. We can take those Heartless, maybe knock the witch down a peg, but Sora’s dealt with this before and has way more experience. Who knows what’ll happen.”

Rarity hummed, crossing her arms, “Strange of you to take the cautious side.”

“Even stranger for Sora to know all this,” Rainbow said. She nudged her head to Sunset, a little miffed. “What’s up with that? Didn’t you know him for a week?”

“Technically a day,” Sunset corrected. She sighed, her anger flickering and goading her to snap at Sora. The events of the morning was what kept her in check. That, and the fact school would start soon. Tempers were hard to simmer in class. “But it’s not really an excuse. Why did you avoid telling me about them?”

Sora inclined his head to the side. He wasn’t one to falter, but his explanations left him a lot more hesitant.

“I never expected to see her here,” he said, lifting his gaze to her. It was hardened, but not in defense. It was a blend of several emotions. His eyes furrowed, his lips pursed, and his shoulders tensed. His voice didn’t reflect any of that. “Why bring the Heartless up if they weren’t a threat?”

“Considering you dealt with them constantly, based on your tales,” Sunset said, intertwining her fingers. “I mean, you couldn’t have expected that they'd ignore this place.”

Sora simply stared at her. It was heavy and almost desperate.

Sunset felt her anger blow out like a candle, “Oh.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he apologized, turning to the portal. “If it’s any consolation, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to stop Maleficent. Not sure why she would choose now of all times to visit your world, but she chose the wrong time.”

Sunset gave a lopsided smile, “Can’t do much when you’re a ghost.”

She emphasized her point by swiping a hand through his hair. He recoiled and clutched the sides of his head. It got a giggle out of Sunset.

“Baby steps,” Sora said, scratching his hair.

“Okay, this is too one-sided for me,” Rainbow said, messaging her temples. She bent down and scooped up her soccer ball, eyes half lidded. “How about we get to class before every classmate wants to question us.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Rarity muttered. “They caught everything, yes?”

“Not like the school never seen anything like it,” Sunset said, heading for the entrance. Rarity and Rainbow hurried to either side of her. Sora trailed behind, hands behind his head. “Besides, if it wasn’t already obvious, we have to keep an eye out for Maleficent. Who knows when she’ll try to get through the portal again.”

“All this business with light and dark like the morning after snowfall,” Rarity whispered, rubbing her eyes, careful not to smear her mascara. “Having magic leak from Equestria was bad enough. It’s remarkable that the least surprising affect was Sora and other worlds. Other worlds! And I still have to find a replacement for the centerpiece.”

Sunset nearly tripped at hearing that. Guilt gripped her heart, overwhelming her.

“Perhaps we should let the others know about the Heartless and such,” Rarity mused.

“Done,” Rainbow said proudly, flipping her phone in the air. “Texted them while you were complaining.”

“I would hardly call it complaining, dear,” Rarity grumbled, hunching her head in a huff. “More like… a jaded review of events.”

“I-I’m sorry about that,” Sunset blurted. The two looked to her as they halted. Sunset felt her cheeks heat up. “For t-the centerpiece, I mean. When I broke it. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Nonsense,” Rarity said with a wave of her hand. Rainbow got the door for the three of them, and Rarity gave a hasty thanks before wrapping an arm around Sunset’s shoulders. “This end-of-the-world affair is far more important. Not to mention getting this Sora gentleman so he can assist us. Why, it’s far more than what any of us have to deal with.”

Sunset played with her hands, “Even the Fall Formal?”

“Especially the Fall Formal,” Rarity said, jabbing a finger into her chest. Her face fell and was dead serious. “Don’t get me wrong, darling. I live for the Fall Formal.”

“Oh, does she ever,” Rainbow piped up with a smug grin.

“But you were the only one to see Sora,” Rarity said. She shrugged, tilting her head back and forth. “As a number of phantoms, yes, but you brought out the real one. The chandelier is my responsibility, and I should have accounted for your predicament. If you fret on my behalf, why, it wouldn’t be fair!”

There was a tightness in Sunset. Forgiveness was a given amongst friends, but it felt unearned. It didn’t help that a part of her wanted to involve herself in her friends’ projects. To have some fun while working towards a goal. The business with the phantoms had been bothersome, and in some cases, downright invasive. With Maleficent threatening Equestria, threatening the very existence of friendship, she would gladly worry about the Fall Formal instead.

The bell rang, loud and shrill. The three flinched, gazing around in wonder. There wasn’t a person in sight, already cleared out and in class. Rainbow said something equivalent to a goodbye, but it was garbled as she sped off in a rainbow blur. Rarity spoke a mile a minute, walking back and forth before she frantically waved farewell and jogged down the hall.

It happened so quickly. Sunset still had to process what Rarity said to her. There was no ill intentions from her, but she felt rejected, as though Rarity didn’t need her help. The guilt didn’t just grip her heart, it constricted it.

“You’ve got good friends,” Sora said. His voice was gentle, but it shoved her back into reality. Still in the lobby, not a sound to be heard. Her heart thumped in her ears, and she found her hand fiddle with her jacket. A glance to Sora provided a good reminder of her coarse.

“Yeah, they are,” she said. Maybe too monotone. Her plans for the day still mattered, and she focused on that. Her legs carried her to her first class, already making mental changes to her schedule. “I’ll see you after school.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” Sora said. She spun around to catch the conflict in his expression. If she wasn’t late, she would have questioned him. Instead, she set it in the back of her mind. Even though Sora had his secrets, she trusted him to bring up his own issues. He was an open book, after all.

An observatory. Maleficent hadn’t visited one in ages. Her steps echoed within, studying the telescope at the center. It aimed at the domed ceiling, closed off to the elements. A handful of instruments and consoles hugged the wall. It was a featureless room, barren, void of any intrigue.

She would fix that soon enough.

The light of the world prevented her from fully entering it. Only her apparition could walk freely. It was a mere shadow of herself, but it was sufficient to finding a place to operate, to observe the world until the light weakened. Scaring the attendants was effortless, and with the help of a few paltry Heartless, they wouldn’t bother her.

What frustrated her was how long it would take to obtaining entrance into the portal. The light in this world was on par with Disney Castle. Powerful, and near impossible to surmount. She had a method in place, already in motion. It would speed her plans along, but not fast enough.

Her hands slid along the telescope as she hummed. An instrument to study the sky, other worlds. Endued with darkness, it could have other uses, such as opening her own portal. It would still take time to alter, and it wasn’t full proof. Nothing more than a backup plan. It played to her liking, however, in regards to powering it.

Maleficent whipped around, flourishing her staff. A crack of lightning sparked from the orb and struck the concrete floor. A Heartless formed. Hunched like a gremlin, it barely held itself up with its spindly legs, splitting down the middle to bend both inward and outward. It folded its paper arms as though shuffling them in segments. The head was nothing more than a small, flat cylinder fused atop its torso.

It hopped and shifted its arms as though a gust of wind blew through. Its jagged mouth and glowing, yellow eyes remained still and emotionless. Underneath its face was the Heartless emblem.

It was a new variation, and Maleficent dubbed it Trickster.

“Go forth and terrorize the public,” she ordered, sweeping her hand out. “Leave them in paranoia.”

The Heartless convulsed, paper rattling, before fading away. Maleficent allowed a sly smile to spread across her face. The world had its light and protectors, inexperienced as they were. The best way to undermine both was through subterfuge.

Her eyes traveled the length of the dome. A new thought bubbled up, and her face twisted into a scowl. While her plans were still in its infancy, there was still the matter of the black box. Leaving Pete to watch the old masters was foolish, but the opportunity in this world could not be wasted. It did spite her to believe Pete could fail at such a small task.

“It would do me no good to leave him be,” she grumbled, setting both her hands on her staff. She caught the web of a spider nestled above the door frame. Her brow rose a smidgen. “Perhaps it’s time I make use of that imbecile.”

Rainbow flung herself onto the table. She released a terse breath and sank into a seat. For a second, she enjoyed the cool surface against her forehead. Someplace to relax. Footsteps converged on her, and in a instant, she whipped around and glared at the few students who had gathered behind her. They shrunk away before leaving entirely. She was lucky that time, usually at least one was brave enough to question her.

“And here I thought you liked bein’ the center of attention,” Applejack said. She sat across from Rainbow with a smug smile and a hamburger in her hands.

“Laugh it up,” Rainbow said, clenching her hand into a fist. “I swear, it’s like these guys never seen us in action. We saved them from a sinking ship for crying out loud!”

Applejack shrugged, “That’s different from fighin’... Heartless?”

“Heartless,” Rainbow nodded. Her thumb rubbed against her knuckle, furrowing her brow. “You got my text, right?”

“Didn’t really need it,” Applejack said, pointing to the side. Tables of classmates whispered heavily among each other, some catching glances to Rainbow. The atmosphere was a lot more close knitted than the usual open recreation. Rainbow slouched, propping her elbow to rest her head in her hand. Her other hand tightened a little harder.

“Wouldn’t be a school without rumors,” she said. Her teeth clenched, looking to Applejack. Her focus was on her hamburger, but it was too contemplative. The hamburger wasn’t on her mind. “What’s the word?”

Applejack snapped her head to Rainbow, faltered, and cleared her throat, “That Rarity fought these dark varmints before you came to help. Nothin’ ‘bout any Maleficent.” Her gaze fell back to her hamburger. Rainbow had the thought to tear it away, but Applejack set it down and folded her hands together. Her brow knitted in worry. “Really hope this rodeo blows over.”

“How come?” Rainbow asked warily. There wasn’t a moment that she had ever seen Applejack get worked up over another magical struggle.

Applejack swept her gaze across the room, tensing up. She nudged her Stetson hat a little to hide her face from others. Rainbow leaned in to find a trace of ire. To have their classmates drive Applejack to that must have been substantial. The last time she was like that was back in their freshman year. Rainbow shivered at the memory.

“The whole school ain’t goin’ to leave us alone,” Applejack said, her fingers tracing over the brim of her hat. “I already got asked enough questions to fill a test, and I’m sure the others are the same. We’re busy enough without the magical stuff keepin’ us in the mud.”

“Says you. Beating those Heartless was awesome.”

Applejack bristled and closed her eyes, letting the seconds draw out. Rainbow groaned inwardly.

“School, clubs, chores, part-time jobs,” Applejack said. Rainbow threw an arm over the backrest. “We’re busy. And we need to get used to bein’ busy. Hay, I’m gettin’ used to taken to the orchards now too.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, eyeing the overhead lights. The brightness stimulated her, putting her mind in a buzz. “I have to apply for that soccer scholarship. Doesn’t help that my powers might get it shut down due to an unfair advantage.” She suddenly didn’t want to talk about the subject. The coach already did that enough. “But that doesn’t mean we should drop the magical shtick. It’s a part of us like we’re a part of each other… as mushy as that sounds. ”

“So, what you’re sayin’ is we should take on more than we can handle?” Applejack asked, a certain edge in her tone.

“I’m saying,” Rainbow emphasized, breaking away from the lights to match her glare. “We can catch a break once in a while, even if it’s just to save the world.”

Applejack sighed, her tough persona slipping, “I dunno. Maybe the talk of ‘darkness swallowing the world’ got me thinking of our own lives.”

“All the more reason to smash it into a pulp,” Rainbow said, slamming her fist into the palm of her hand. “Teach this Maleficent what for and then get back to our clubs and jobs before you can say apple.”

“Apple.”

“Okay, no,” Rainbow said, pointing to her with annoyance. “Not like that.”

Applejack chuckled quietly. It was brisk and more than Rainbow had seen from her since she had arrived. A part of Rainbow understood Applejack’s point of view, and in the past, she probably would have supported it. After all, less responsibility meant more relaxation. Of course, that part had been silenced ever since Rainbow could run to and from school in the blink of an eye.

“What about this Sora feller?” Applejack asked, returning to her hamburger. “From the text, it seemed like he followed Sunset around as a ghost? The giant key threw me off.”

“Keyblade, from what Sunset told us,” Rainbow said before blowing a raspberry. “Keyblade. That’s gotta be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Or at least top ten. What’s it good for? Unlocking pain? Anyway, he goes around to stop the Heartless with it.”

“How is Sora?” Applejack asked.

“How am I supposed to know?” Rainbow said, folding her arms to rest her head on the table. “Everything I sent to you was what I heard from Sunset. You’re starting to sound like everyone else.” Applejack quirked an eyebrow, and Rainbow swallowed. “Eh, no offense.”

“None taken,” Applejack said, though by her tone and the way she tore into her hamburger, it was fairly strained.

Rainbow sorted her thoughts, which was a lot given the info dump that morning. Sitting up straight, she recalled how upset Sunset was with Sora. There was very few people that got her riled up, and it got Rainbow to contemplate way more than usual.

“Sora kept hidden about the Heartless and Maleficent,” she said. Hearing it aloud made it sound sinister, though it might not be far off. “I don’t know if Sunset still trusts him, but it got me wondering if he’s a ghost because of the Heartless.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Applejack said. “I ain’t one to judge a barn by its paint, but it’s kinda sudden for Sora to show up so closely with the Heartless.”

“He’s handled them before,” Rainbow said, though hummed afterwards. That was what Sora had told Sunset, but it grew harder to trust someone who forgot to mention something as dangerous as Heartless. “The, ugh, keyblade is supposed to be some weapon of light to fight darkness. But since he’s a ghost…”

Applejack nodded, “It’d be nice to meet him. I prefer a face to face, get a feelin’ for him. For now, it’s on Sunset. It ain’t right, puttin’ that kinda pressure on her.”

“Doubt we’ll get the chance for a face to face,” Rainbow said, eyeing the full tables. Even with Applejack around, it didn’t stifle how empty their table was. The text from Fluttershy, after the morning’s events, was the closest she had heard from her all day. “Don’t know how he’ll stop being a ghost, and our luck with hangouts dried up weeks ago. There’s always one of us working at clubs or other stuff. Like right now! The seven of us don’t even eat lunch together.” She exhaled harshly. “Being busy sucks.”

The cafeteria was full of chatter, yet the silence between Rainbow Dash and Applejack suffocated the conversation. Rainbow hoped Applejack would bring up her plans for the day or say it wasn’t the case. The quietude only forced Rainbow to recall their last meeting together, about Equestrian magic. It hadn’t lasted five minutes.

Her stomach rumbled. She nearly put it off, but slammed her fist onto the table. It rattled the lunch tray and knocked Applejack out of her thoughts. There was a brief moment when Rainbow was ready to simply throw the day away to get her friends together.

“I’m getting food,” she said stiltedly, standing.

The idea still clung to her, begging her to do it. Nothing held her back. Applejack knew it was true too. She would have supported it. Her friends would complain from the interruption, but they would thank her. They would talk about what they were up to, swap stories, figure out a plan for Sora and the Heartless. Everything pointed to it being the right course of action.

Her legs were ready to burst into a sprint, but she dug her hands into her jacket pockets and bowed her head to avoid eye contact with the crowds. She wasn’t sure what kept her from going through with it.

Twilight couldn’t shake off the panic in her system. Breathing was hard, and she had to restrain herself from pacing through the school lab. There was still no new message on her phone, and after checking it every second, she pondered if she had gone too far. Clutching it close, she wasn’t sure if she could handle a reply.

“Would you stop that?” Spike said, sitting in front of her. It was the first time she broke away from the screen. Spike had his brow furrowed, head held high, authoritative. “I know for a fact it’s not a big deal, so don’t make it one.”

“It is a big deal,” Twilight shot back before she flinched. “Or maybe I am overthinking it, and I’ve ruined my chances. I should have read up on it!”

“This is becoming a routine,” Spike muttered before standing on all fours. “Twilight, can you do me a favor and breathe?”

“I don’t-”

“Breathe!”

Twilight choked on her words and did as she was told. Her lungs filled with air before dispersing. Her shoulders settled, her muscles relaxed, and generally, felt a bit calmer than before. A smile eased onto her lips, and Spike smiled knowingly back.

“There, you see?” he said, gesturing to her. It was a silly matter, trivial, and Twilight had to remind herself that the message wasn’t the end of the world.

Then her phone chimed, and she cried out, startling Spike. She fumbled with her phone and hyperventilated. The screen displayed a new message from Timber Spruce. She couldn’t even read it because of her mind scrambling to get a grip, as well as her hands on the phone. Eventually, she opened the message, wincing, and squinting her eyes, ready to turn away.

Sure, sounds fun! Haven’t been to the beach in a while. It’s a date.

“D-date…” Twilight said. It had to set in. She was going on a date with Timber Spruce. Her mind shut down, and she had to hold herself up by the table. Her face burned hot. “We’re going on a date.”

“Shocker,” Spike said in a deadpan. He stepped closer to Twilight as she slid down to her knees, still in disbelief. “This wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t act this way every time.”

“But what if he had said no!?”

“Then he would have had a good reason for it,” Spike said sternly. Twilight wasn’t convinced, pulling herself up to glance off to the set of notes she had been working on. “Have a little faith. Timber wouldn’t hurt you intentionally. Freaking out isn’t going to make things better.”

“You’re right, Spike,” she said, shifting papers around. The last minute made it difficult to remember where she left off. She took another deep breath, relishing the air again. “I guess I just want things to go smoothly. It’s the first time I’ve felt this way towards a boy.”

“Don’t I know it,” Spike grumbled. Twilight spared him a scowl, but it evaporated upon reflection.

“At the end of the day,” she said with a dopey smile. “I’m glad I got to meet him.”

“Meet who?” Sora asked curiously.

Twilight screamed, scattering the papers everywhere. They floated around as Twilight clutched her heart and turned to find Sora. He had his hands up to calm her down, completely apologetic. Twilight had to use the deep breathing technique yet again.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Sora said, eyeing the papers fluttering to a rest on the floor. Spike brushed away one that had landed on his head.

“What, did you forget to send a little heart to him?” Spike said. He swept over the sea of papers with a grunt.

Twilight caught her breath again, setting a hand on her forehead. All the excitement was too much. It didn’t help Sora looked to her, still wanting an answer. Her face lit back up like a furnace, and she ran a hand down a curl of her hair.

“Who?” she asked, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t say anything about Spruce! I mean, not Timber, b-but a boy. That’s him! Timber… Spruce.”

Sora tilted his head to the side. There was no teasing grin or mocking remarks, and she wasn’t sure if he was being coy or oblivious. Twilight glanced back to the message, re-reading it, and then facing Sora again. Her friends knew, so having him know couldn’t hurt either.

“Timber Spruce,” she started, swallowing nervously, “is a friend. A good friend. That I like. A lot.”

“That why your face is red?” he asked, setting his hands on his hips, smirking. Twilight made a series of noises that were indecipherable, even to her. He definitely wasn’t oblivious, and his laughter made her head turn to mush.

“Did you lose it?” Spike asked with suspicious eyes. “I know who Timber is. He’s the guy you met in Camp Everfree that turns you into putty.” Twilight hid her face in her hands. “Just like now. That text must have been more serious than I thought.”

“No, Spike,” Twilight groaned, pulling her hands away to adjust her lab coat. “It’s Sora. You know, the phantom I told you about? He’s here in the room.”

Spike turned every which way, stepping around and sniffing. Sora raised a brow at his behavior and opened his mouth before Twilight shook her head. She could be overwhelmed in a blush and still know not to question Spike’s stubbornness. Explaining everything involving Sora still left him skeptical. He explored the room as though Sora hid behind the lab counters, and Twilight bent down to collect the scattered papers.

“So you and Timber Spruce, huh?” Sora asked, crouching to her level. She flinched, expecting more teasing, but Sora had a pleasant smile. There was still that prick of humor to him, but it was subdued, warm even.

“Y-yeah,” Twilight stuttered, pressing the papers to her chest. “Spike already mentioned it, but we met at Camp Everfree and…” A small smile grew. “Well, heh, you know.”

She hoped he knew, by the stars above. Her blush could probably burn through her notes.

“Must be nice to have someone like that,” he said. Twilight froze, focusing on one of her written theories on the world’s rotation because she didn’t want to stare aghast at Sora. His tone wasn’t regretful nor somber, but back to that child-like innocence. With her notes stacked in her arms, she straightened them and stood back up, catching his earnest as he did the same.

She could work over it all day and probably still not know what he meant by it. Even still, she tried, shuffling the papers idly. Her gaze dropped to his crown necklace, hanging over where his heart was. The results of their last test - a heart and Sunset’s Cutie Mark - flashed by, along with several ideas between him and Sunset Shimmer.

He appeared before her, she brought him back as a ghost, they were near inseparable since then. Twilight knew Sora for less than a day, yet…

“Where’s Sunset?” she asked. Sora blinked, surprised but not shocked, and Twilight wasn’t sure if she should have brought it up. Sora and Sunset together, as more than friends, crossed her mind. The urge to fling the papers in the air clung to her like a leech, to the point she had to set them down before she did. Any distraction would have been preferable than another jab at her blush.

“Don’t worry, I’m keeping my promise,” Sora said. “I just wander around when she’s in class. I can’t do much in my condition.”

“You help plenty!” Twilight blurted, whipping around. Her mouth ran off again, and had refused to stay closed. She pursed her lips, cringing. As if she wasn’t making it obvious that he wasn’t helpful as a phantom. “I mean, you can stand nearby and cheer when she answers correctly or...”

She trailed off. The contemplative side of Sora had returned. It had to do with Sunset, Twilight was sure of it, though it wasn’t like back at her lab. He was disappointed back then, frustrated, but at that moment, a cloud hung over his head. She was afraid to speak up, to meddle when she barely knew him, but she recalled her friends did that with her during the Friendship Games.

“Something bothering you?” she asked softly.

Sora jerked, crossing his arms and turning away with a sheepish smile, “Bothering me? No way! Everything’s… fine!”

Twilight scrutinized him, though not harshly. She had an idea of his troubles, being a student in Crystal Prep, but not to his degree. Being invisible and intangible would make anybody feel excluded.

“The Heartless are here,” he said, his brow furrowing. “Rainbow Dash already told you, right?”

Her heart was suddenly a lot louder, but mellowed soon after. She briefly believed he had changed tracks, avoiding an answer, but to think of the Heartless, Maleficent, and the threat to friendship itself as off topic was deplorable. It was more than serious, it was downright imperative.

“Yeah,” Twilight answered. She shelved her other questions for later. “It sounded like you fought with them before. With a keyblade?”

Sora nodded, holding up his hand. There was a flash of light, and within his hold was a large key. It left Twilight in awe, stepping closer to admire the slick frame and metal finish. It was well crafted and smooth.

“I lost my world to Heartless a couple years ago,” he said. It was abrupt, like he meant to bring down the mood. Twilight wasn’t sure what to do, and Sora frantically waved it off. “I got it back. Don’t worry! It’s just… we can’t let our guard down. Getting to Maleficent is our main goal. If we get her, the Heartless will follow.”

His firm nod and bravado were something else. It reminded her a lot of her friends. They had a lot in common, and it set her mind at ease. Standing straight, she leaned back against the table.

“My friends and I are no stranger to fighting those who abuse magic,” Twilight said, unable to keep the pride out of her voice. To see Sora excited at the prospect made her a little guilty, but it felt good too. “We got your back. Whatever it takes.”

He rested his keyblade on his shoulder, rubbing his nose, absolutely glowing. Seeing him in high spirits was infectious. Then it fell to thoughtfulness. Not like before, but more like he was stumped. It was a funny face, and Twilight was glad she could keep in her giggles.

“I’m kind of confused about the Magic of Friendship,” Sora stated, scratching his head. He braced his keyblade on the floor and rested his hands on the hilt. “How did that other world - the one the portal leads to - have the source of friendship?”

“Sunset can explain it better than me,” Twilight said. “From what I gather, her world is very harmonious. I’d say it’s the natural state there. So much so that when Sunset brought a crown imbued with the same magic, it affected our world too. Back during the Friendship Games-”

She stopped with a small cough. Her dark self, Midnight Sparkle, appeared in her vision and disappeared just as fast. It sent a chill down her spine. The feelings of deep loneliness were like cold tendrils clutching her heart, and it hurt to relive it, even for an instant. And Sunset was the same before her. Twilight gathered her courage and reminded herself that it was over, that it was in the past. Sora stared, concerned.

“Let’s just say,” Twilight said, knowing she sounded gloomier than before, “it’s a powerful magic. No real explanation for that.”

“That I can agree with,” he nodded. His eyes widened, the keyblade vanishing as he pumped one of his arms. “Hey! We should get everyone together and have some fun after this blows over. You guys have been too busy to hang out, right? We’ll have the whole day. No responsibilities! It’ll be great!”

“Sure,” Twilight said carefully. He brought it up with such confidence, an assured glean to his eye. It forced a single question to bounce around in her head. “Did Sunset tell you about that? I know the seven of us haven’t done anything for a while. ”

The accuracy hurt, even when it came from her. These were the six girls that changed her life, and besides a handful of gatherings with two or three of them, she rarely saw them in the same room, except for the meeting the other day. The lone exception.

“A gut feeling,” Sora said with a higher pitch than normal. He rubbed the back of his head, smiling. It didn’t reach his eyes.

Twilight faltered, but eventually smiled back. She cherished every moment with Sunset and everyone else, and to have a true get together again would be a dream come true. Though given their record, it may still remain just that: a dream.

The day had been leading up to detention. It had stuck to Sunset, growing and building until she trembled before the very door leading to it. The hallway stretched forever on either side, and Sunset was ever so small in comparison. It was somehow worse than facing the Heartless. Detention was different this time. She planned to confront Pinkie Pie.

Her throat tightened at the thought. She apologized to Rarity with only a stutter, but Pinkie was different. She never gave Sunset a chance, and it devastated her. It was all too obvious Pinkie didn’t want to face Sunset. It didn’t matter if it was from fear or from sadness or even hatred. A shaky sigh escaped Sunset. She really hoped it wasn’t from hatred.

“You’ll be okay,” Sora said. Having him by her side was a mixed bag. His words comforted her, but didn’t erase any lingering doubts. His arms crossed, facing the door with a far off look, the kind reserved for deep thoughts. “You’re a good friend, and Pinkie won’t hold it against you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Sunset said with a deep sigh. A good friend would have had the issue resolved in a day. Twilight would have done it in an hour. Sunset didn’t have the willpower to step forward. Even considering it unlocked a barrage of possibilities she didn’t want to happen.

“Don’t get cold feet now,” Sora berated cheerfully. His face came into her view, and it broke her out of her anxiety. That boyish charm, full of optimism, beckoned her. He waved her over to the door, but it wasn’t necessary. Sunset could get through because she wasn’t alone.

Her hand still shook when she reached out for the handle. Her heart was ready to explode, and her nerves were flayed. A quick breath got her to push through the door. Darkness greeted her. Not a soul in sight. For a second, she wondered if Luna cancelled detention. Another second later, lights and party horns assaulted her senses.

Someone grabbed her jacket and yanked her inside. She rubbed her eyes when she was released to find confetti raining from the ceiling, balloons tied to desks, and cupcakes brimming with sprinkles. There was enough colors to make a rainbow jealous. Sunset couldn’t wrap her head around any of it. Her jaw hung open, and she couldn’t close it for the life of her.

A group of balloons parted to allow Pinkie Pie to lean in with three party horns hanging from her lips. They unfurled with a symphony of honks before they tumbled out of her mouth in favor of a large grin.

“Surprise!” she cried.

There was no sign of animosity or fear. She slid out of the way of the balloons with her arms spread wide. A banner hung over her and across from the door. Cartoon versions of her and Pinkie Pie held hands with a heart in between. The letters were spaced at first before bunching up as though Pinkie hadn’t planned on the length.

Things will get better!

Sunset swallowed, her breathing shallow.

“I knew you’d be surprised!” Pinkie giggled. “Ever since you yelled at me, I said to myself ‘Pinkie! She’s right! You have to make it up to her.’ So I did what anybody else would do and got to planning a surprise party. Just for the two of us.”

Sunset hitched her breath, tensing up. Pinkie took a bite out of a cupcake before grabbing another to offer to Sunset.

“I made the banner during detention, but I had to make sure you weren’t looking so I hunched over it all sad. It took hours to figure out the right thing to write. Then I had to avoid you so I wouldn’t spoil the surprise. I couldn’t keep it in, I was so excited!”

She took another bite, her smile waning.

“I mean, I knew you were having a hard time and were kind of distressed, and the text about the Heartless did concern me. But that made the surprise party even more crucial. Even if I had to ignore you and pretend I didn’t care…”

Her face fell, her joy deflating, and when she looked to Sunset, she dropped the cupcake. The dull splat knocked Sunset out of her stupor, blinking away tears. She rushed to Pinkie and threw her arms around her. Her emotions were in shambles, in which she didn’t know what she felt, but Pinkie deserved a hug. Her embrace tightened.

“I didn’t mean…” Pinkie said in a hush. “If I knew it made things this bad-”

“You’re the best friend I could ever ask for,” Sunset said over her. “I was dumb, stupid, idiotic. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did. I’m so sorry.”

Pinkie reached up and took a hold of her arms, gently pushing her back. Sunset released her, and had the urge to look away, feeling the shame already well up inside. Instead, she kept her tear stricken eyes solely on Pinkie Pie.

She gave a sad smile, “Let’s agree to address these things head on. Friends are supposed to do that. Like two pears in a pod. It is pears, right? This is kind of an emotional moment. I-I don’t want to ruin it.”

Sunset chuckled quietly. She felt so light, so much better. Her problems were a million miles away. She would do anything to keep it up. Pinkie broke away, allowing Sunset to rub her eyes. They were itchy and probably red, but she didn’t care. When she pulled her hands away, a cupcake greeted her. Pinkie wiggled her eyebrows, and Sunset laughed.

“Thank you,” she said, genuinely grateful for the party.

“You know me,” Pinkie said, jabbing a thumb to her chest before holding a hand to the side of her mouth. “I’m really good at parties.”

“Don’t I know it,” Sunset said.

Pinkie glowed, but then her brow furrowed. She brought a hand to her chin.

“But does Sora know?”

Sunset was about to dig into her cupcake when she asked. It was a sudden question, one that hadn’t occurred to her, and as her mind ran a blank, she turned to him. He stood out in the hallway, giving them space. The sentiment was appreciated, but to see him alone had the old guilt return in force. The question even had him curious and a little surprised, like he didn’t expect to have the conversation turn to him.

“He could really use one,” Sunset said, smirking. “After all, it’s not like he gets much attention as a ghost.”

“Thanks,” Sora said, stepping into the room, “I think.”

Pinkie nodded, swinging with one arm while the other pointed straight up.

“Then I’ll throw him a great, big party,” she exclaimed. Sunset missed that limitless energy of hers. “It’ll have all the works, I’ll pull all the stops, and Sora will have all the cake.”

Sora laughed, “I don’t think I’ve ever had cake before.”

“Don’t let Pinkie hear you say that,” Sunset said, finally biting into her cupcake. As usual, it was moist, sweet, and delicious. She hummed at the taste. It was literally the icing on the cake to their rekindled friendship. She meant to compliment Pinkie on it, but found her agape. A little upset too.

“Sora’s never had cake before!?” she yelled, gripping her head.

There was a pause. One that ticked by as Sunset worked out why it was similar to Twilight seeing Sora. And the reason hit her like a ton of bricks. Her cupcake slide out of her hand. Sora was equally stunned, leaning forward with his arms dangling. Pinkie glared at him as though betrayed, pouting.

“You can see him, Pinkie?” she asked, holding her breath. A wave of deja vu swept through her.

“No, he’s a ghost, remember?” Pinkie snapped. Then it sank in, and Pinkie gasped loudly, clapping her hands to her cheeks. “Wait, I heard him say he’s never had cake! I can hear him. I can see him!”

“That’s great!” Sora said. “We’re making progress, Sunset.”

“Yeah,” Sunset said, astonished. Her shoulders shook with every small chuckle. It was hard to believe, yet they made breakthroughs, regardless of how rarely they got them. “Yeah, we are.”

“Your hair is so spiky,” Pinkie said, hopping in front of him. She squeed before holding up her hand. “I always wanted to see hair that spiky. High five!”

“I… actually can’t do that,” Sora said with a sheepish smile, scratching his cheek.

“Eh, it’s the thought that counts,” she said with a shrug. Sora gleefully held up his own hand and they met halfway, never really touching. Pinkie gasped again. “You have to tell me all your favorites. Favorite flavor, favorite color, favorite food, everything!”

“Do I have a favorite flavor?” Sora asked. Pinkie clutched his shoulders like a lifeline and shook him vigorously.

“Don’t scare me like that!” she yelled. She stopped to glower. Sora blinked rapidly, head bobbing back and forth. “I’m still upset that you’ve never had cake before.”

“I said I think I’ve never had cake,” he amended, a little distressed but still sporting a smile. “It’s been so long that maybe I forgot.”

“Who forgets cake?” she said, letting him go.

“It can happen!”

“Actually, the better question is who goes on for so long without cake?”

Detention was livelier, and Sunset couldn’t be happier. Their chat delved into more about cake, at Sora’s expense. Pinkie was really passionate about it. A side of her that Sunset forgot about and was glad to see again, to have her as her friend again. She picked up another cupcake off the table. The frosting was a swirl of red and yellow, doused in pink sprinkles.

Things would get better.

Luna strolled into the room, books under her arm, and froze.

“Did I miss something?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Chapter 6: How to Cast a Shadow

Adagio Dazzle bit into her hot dog. The taste of unidentifiable meat and bland bread made her gag, but she swallowed it down. Food was scarce, and she wasn’t going to waste another meal because of her pickiness. Even if the hot dog was nothing more than rubber to her tongue. The other Dazzlings were no better. Aria Blaze had set aside her hot dog, gazing off across the park. Sonata Dusk held her stomach and grimaced. The hot dog didn’t agree with her either.

Their bag sat at their feet, and Adagio opened it up to sift through it. A few wads of cash ruffled inside along with enough coins for a vending machine purchase. She growled, throwing the bag aside to lean back against the bench.

“That’s all he had on him?” Adagio said, kicking up her leg to settle over her knee.

“He was a hot dog vendor,” Aria said, crossing her arms. She glanced to Adagio before turning away. “He’s not exactly rolling in dough. Maybe next time, you grab the cash. Then you wouldn’t be so snippy.”

“I get to be snippy,” Adagio said, pressing her hand against her chest. “It was my plan to begin with.”

“It was a good plan,” Sonata said, sitting up straight. She held her hot dog in both hands. An overly big smile spreading across her face. “Stealing from a clothing store would be nice though. These sweatshirts are itchy.”

Adagio had a long rant rumble in her throat. Wearing those sweatshirts and sweatpants for months gnawed at her pride. No money meant no replacements, no place to sleep, and no food. She chewed her hot dog, and a scrap lodged itself in her throat. She hacked and coughed until it came loose, and something in her snapped. She flung the rest of her food into the park, pushing herself to her feet.

“I am sick of this!” she yelled, stomping her foot.

“Yeah, I’m tired of hot dogs too,” Sonata said. She gently set the hot dog on the pavement with her tongue out in disgust. Adagio quivered, clenching her teeth.

“She’s talking about our situation,” Aria said with a roll of her eyes. She flipped one of her pigtails and adjusted the collar of her sweatshirt. “You know, living in garbage, eating garbage, and being garbage.”

“I’m not garbage!” Sonata said with a raised fist.

“If anybody here is garbage, it’s definitely you.”

“No, you are.”

“Enough!” Adagio screamed, storming across the nearest knoll. The terrible food, bickering, and sleepless nights finally got to her. Enduring all that for no other reason but to survive. Nothing more than girls. It grated in her head, mocking her. “We wouldn’t be here if those girls at Canterlot High hadn’t destroyed our pendants.”

“And whose idea was it to feed there?” Aria said, holding up a finger.

“Um…” Sonata said, pressing her hands together, scrunching her face. “Adagio?”

“Scratch that,” Aria said, getting in Sonata’s face. “It’s your fault.”

Another back and forth Adagio couldn’t stand. It blended together to make a white noise that she promptly ignored as she had always done. Her mind dropped back to that one memory. That fateful night months ago. It was one memory that clung to her every day. She bristled, her heart rate spiking as molten lava coursed through her veins.

Then a feeling passed through her.

It was an odd, almost comforting feeling. The kind she had felt at the band finals, when they were on top of the world, when everyone bowed down to her. It set off a beacon in her mind. She had to find the source. Her anger soothed enough for her to set off, head full of hope.

“Uh, Adagio, where are you-?”

“Quiet,” she hissed with a glare hard enough to pierce rock. Aria broke her gaze, wilting. The feeling was too faint to let the girls distract her. Adagio beckoned them to follow. A groan from Aria and a mutter from Sonata were meaningless, not when there was something more to gain.

Past scattered trees and the occasional person, they made their way through the park. The feeling widened with every step, inch by inch, and it enriched her very being. By the time they reached the street, a malicious grin manifested. She came to a stop at the sidewalk, and the others did the same.

A gremlin stalked the street, paper arms sweeping side to side. It leapt onto a car before shaking and launching off. It smashed back into the car, setting off the alarm. It garnered attention from the bystanders. The gremlin shook before it flung itself at the closest man. He stumbled back with a yell, and the thing bounced around to crash into the side of another parked car.

Everyone yelled and screamed, fleeing the scene. Adagio, Aria, and Sonata remained, the latter two watching with wide eyes. The gremlin crushed the engine of another car and bounced through the window of an antique store. Glass burst into the air as more screams echoed within.

“What in the world is that?” Aria asked. Her tone struck a chord in Adagio. It was clear as day what it was.

Sonata squirmed, “Does it just make havoc for fun?”

Neither of them understood. Adagio wanted to slap them, but huffed instead, crossing her arms. Getting this close had revealed that feeling. It wasn’t Equestrian magic, but equally powerful, if not more. Darkness reeked from that gremlin, and she had to wonder how she hadn’t felt it before.

“That, girls,” Adagio said, leaning back on one foot. Her heart soared at the taste of Darkness, at the opportunities. She took in a deep, refreshing breath. “That is our ticket to ruling this world.”

“Wait, so, Pinkie threw a party, made up with you, and then she could see Sora?”

Sunset nodded, amused, and Twilight tilted her head back. Her eyes squinted as though lost in a reverie. Sunset rested her hands on either side, propping herself on the choir stands. She almost enjoyed how baffled Twilight was. It made no sense back when Sunset had seen her first phantom, and she didn’t expect to grasp the intricacies any time soon.

Off in the corner of the music room, Sora and Pinkie huddled close, each beating a fist to their palm until they stopped. Sora retained his fist and Pinkie ended up clapping a hand flatly. Sunset giggled, glad to see them get along so well, even if Sora didn’t lose gracefully.

“Best three out of five!” he said, holding up three fingers. Pinkie Pie laughed like a super villain, her expression madly evil.

“You underestimate my power!” Pinkie said. She hunched forward with hands at the ready. Sora mirrored her, determined. “Because I used strength boosts before this encounter.”

“Like that’ll help,” Sora said, stomping a foot. “Let’s finish this.”

Sunset didn’t see the results. Twilight had her eyes closed, reclusive. It was odd to see her that way. The last few days had forced Sunset to reevaluate her perspective on magic. Then when they take another step forward, it was Twilight who was lost in thought.

“I know that face,” Sunset said. Twilight opened her eyes, blinking at her. Sunset smirked. “You’re trying to figure something out.”

“I have a face for that?” Twilight asked, almost hurt.

Sunset waved it off, “It’s not a bad thing. What’s on your mind?”

Twilight twirled a strand of her hair around her finger, smiling sheepishly, before stepping over to sit next to Sunset. Twilight sighed, that same concern returning.

“I’m trying to figure out…” Twilight said, shaking her head. There was a flash of sadness before she stamped it out. Sunset didn’t like that look at all, leaning forward to better see her face. She brightened, sitting up straight. “Figuring out how Pinkie saw Sora.”

It didn’t sound like the real reason, but Sunset knew Twilight. She would bring it up when she was ready. Sunset focused on Sora, playing yet another round of rock-paper-scissors. His competitive streak caught her interest, but she shelved the detail. It wasn’t important at the moment.

“That did cross my mind,” Sunset said, setting her hands on her legs.

“And you’re not curious?” Twilight asked, narrowing her eyes. It came off as callous. A tone Sunset hadn’t heard from her in a long time.

“Of course, I’m curious,” Sunset said, watching Sora drop his head in his hands. Pinkie had her fingers intertwined, holding them up in victory. The sight calmed her. “The Heartless could pop up whenever Maleficent feels like it, and we’re not qualified to fight the Darkness ourselves.”

“Depends on your definition of qualified,” Twilight noted.

“Look, I’m just glad Pinkie can see Sora,” Sunset said quickly. Twilight got into tangents if she found a loose thread. “I had to meet Wallflower Blush before coming here, and I couldn’t stop thinking of how to get the others to see him.”

“Did you come up with anything?” Twilight asked.

“Nothing significant. It is Pinkie Pie after all.”

Pinkie emerged from behind them, wrapping her arms to bring them close.

“Obviously,” Pinkie said with a small giggle. “It’s a sign to raise Sora’s sugar intake. That and I promised to throw him a party.”

“When did you promise that?” Sora asked, stifling his laughter as he approached them.

“Just now!” Pinkie said, throwing confetti into the air. They rained down onto them, and Sunset swept them out of her hair, thinking about that promise. The idea wasn’t too far fetched. Even Twilight fell back into her thoughts, humming.

“I’m guessing you have a theory, Twilight?” Sunset asked. She brushed the confetti off her shoulders, and picked a few that had stuck to Twilight's hair. She smiled at the gesture before giving a subtle nod.

“What I got so far,” she said, “is that I saw Sora when I truly believed he existed. We figured that was all it took. Or at least, that was the original theory.”

“Right,” Sora said. He held up a fist to rest his chin on and pursed his lips to what Sunset inferred was his thinking pose. “It didn’t work for Rainbow Dash when we ran into her, and Pinkie didn’t even consider it.”

“That means there’s a different link,” Sunset said, standing to her feet. She studied Sora, from his clothes to his hair. He did the same, twisting and angling himself to get the full picture. “There’s a pattern we’re missing.”

“You and Pinkie did reconcile before she saw me,” Sora added. He tugged at his sleeve, eyeing Pinkie who held her arm. “Maybe it involves that.”

“I don’t see how that involves you though,” Sunset said. She raked her mind, thinking about Twilight back at her lab. She was upset she hadn’t fully believed Sora, but there was more to it. There had to be. “Pinkie did mention throwing you a party before she could see you. Both times, you were the topic. The connection starts at you.”

“Oh!” Pinkie said, leaping up to rest on Twilight’s head, to her chagrin. “We should get the others to interact him! If that’s the pattern, then they’ll see him in no time.”

Sunset took a deep breath. Having her friends interact with Sora was the challenge, but perhaps that was why it had been accidental the last two times. They stumbled through the conversation and Sora simply popped into existence for them. Sunset and Twilight met each other's eyes. That sense of hope was clear as day in her, though with its fair share of doubt.

“It’s worth a shot,” Sunset said with a shrug. “Not sure what to have the girls do to ‘interact’ with him.”

“Have Rarity make him an outfit?” Twilight asked. Her tone proved she wasn’t too keen on the suggestion herself.

“Get Applejack to open up to him?” Pinkie asked.

That broke the dam, and a wave of thoughts washed over Sunset. She furrowed her brow, walking to the side. The pieces came together. Small bits that crafted a clearer picture of the puzzle.

“Come to think of it,” Sunset said, “the Elements of Harmony could be the key.”

“Elements of Harmony?” Sora asked.

“In Equestria, the Elements of Harmony were six artifacts that represented facets of friendship: honesty, generocity, loyalty, kindness, laughter, and magic. My friends here shared this magic with their counterparts. Essentially, they represent the Magic of Friendship.”

Realization dawned in Sora, giving a small hop.

“So that’s why your world has that magic!” Sora said. Sunset tilted her head. “The reason Equestria is the source of all friendship is because of the Elements of Harmony.”

“Sort of,” Sunset nodded slowly. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“Nope.”

“Oh,” Sunset said, scratching the back of her head. “Guess I forgot.”

“Don’t hold it against her,” Pinkie said, hands on her hips. She had a smug look that got a chuckle out of Sora. “She forgets a lot of things.”

Sunset smirked, giving a smug look of her own, “I didn’t forget that your full name is Pinkamena Diane Pie.”

“It is?!” Sora said, mouth agape. The other three laughed, the kind of laughter that was good natured, the kind Sunset hadn’t had for a while.

Even as they died down to snickers, Sunset appreciated the moment, however small it was. The comforting blanket of friendship draped over her shoulders, and she would snuggle that close. Sora faced each of them, working it out in his head, and Pinkie shuffled up to him.

“Don’t worry, Sora,” she said through fits of laughter, “Sunset didn’t know either.”

Sora beamed. That same blanket warmed, and Sunset fully appreciated having everyone in the room. She recited the words that formed the banner at her party in her head.

“With what we have so far,” Sora said, a hand on his hip while the other gestured to her, “you think the Elements are what we need to get me back?”

Sunset shook her head, the warm feeling fading a tad, “From what Princess Twilight told me, the Elements were destroyed. She and her friends are the ones who hold the magic now. Even then, the Elements don’t, or didn’t, work that way.” She snapped her fingers. “However, we share a form of the Magic of Friendship here, in this world.”

She let it set in, a chance for them to piece it together as she had. They glanced to one another until Sora scratched his cheek. His smile contorted into a grimace.

“Meaning…?” he said.

Sunset held back a sigh, her eyes half lidded, “Meaning we may actually need to have our friends interact with you. It might be the solution we’re looking for.

“Great!” Sora said, rolling his arm. He bounded left to right, energetic. “Then let’s find your friends and try it out. I’m itching to really meet them.”

“Too late for that,” Sunset said, holding out a hand to the clock on the wall. Well into the evening, and if that wasn’t enough, the windows presented a very beautiful sunset too. The late hour didn’t pertain to her too much. She could already imagine herself brainstorming plans well into the night.

“Man,” Sora said, crossing his arms and bowing his head, “foiled by time again.”

“I’m not a fan of it either,” Sunset said with a shrug. “We’ll get on it tomorrow after school.”

They shambled to get their bags against the wall. The toll on Sunset weighed on her the heaviest. Her books and utensils were feathers in comparison. She hadn’t mentioned the invisible time limit that hung over her head, ticking down to another attack by the Heartless. It wound her up, and if Pinkie hadn’t seen Sora, exhaustion would have won out at the end of the day.

Twilight opened her bag to find Spike gone. She glanced around to find him sniffing near the choir stands, eyeing every corner with suspicion.

“What’s wrong, Spike?” she asked, stepping closer with her bag in her hands.

“I thought I smelled…” he said. He padded the stand before turning to Twilight. There was discrepancy between Spike and her, the former cautious and curious while the latter was merely confused. A reversal that stuck out to Sunset. She couldn’t shake it off. “Ah, never mind. Sitting in your backpack is making me smell things.”

Sunset pulled the door handle with all her might. It was futile, and she knew it, but her frustration refused to accept it. There was no reason to lock the animal shelter in the middle of the day. The door was stuck, and she didn’t want to believe otherwise. Grunting, she set her boot against the wall for leverage and used every muscle she could muster.

“I think it’s locked,” Sora said behind her. Sunset halted, frowning at Sora who stood idly behind her, expression blank.

“I’d prefer solutions,” Sunset said, giving another tug, “not the obvious.”

A thought struck Sora, and he stared at his hand. His fingers opened and closed before he held out his arm, palm open. Sunset broke away from her attempts, more than a little curious. His keyblade appeared, and he held it aloft to study it.

“You sure that can open any lock?” Sunset said. After everything, the size of the keyblade made it difficult to see it work on a half inch keyhole. Sora smirked, and Sunset saw his competitive nature. That cocky side of him that rarely emerged.

“Stand back,” he said lightly. She would have said it wasn’t the time for games - her insides still boiled from being denied entry - but stepped to the side with her arms crossed.

Sora flourished his keyblade and pointed it to the door. Light gathered at the tip before a thin beam shot to the door and splashed against it. Waves of light permeated the surface as the lock clicked. When the light died down, Sunset approached and tested the handle. The door slid open, and Sunset couldn’t muster the courage to face Sora.

“Open any lock, huh?” Sora said, pleased with himself. Sunset had a ghost of a smile.

There was no activity inside the lobby. She wasn’t surprised, given she couldn’t see anyone through the windows. The animal shelter didn’t have too many workers at one time, even a receptionist. There wasn’t a lot to look at either. A few empty animal carriers clustered by the door, a cardboard box of assorted animal toys at the desk, and the hamster room in the corner.

There was skittering, rapid and fast, but Sunset couldn’t pinpoint where it came from. Sora squinted, perking his ears as his eyes danced. He recognized that sound.

“Fluttershy?” Sunset called. A wave of deja vu washed over her, but couldn’t think on it when Fluttershy peeked from the room across from them.

“Who is it?” she asked, just above a whisper. Her eyes frantically scanned the floors and ceiling.

“Just us,” Sunset said before glancing to Sora. “Me and Sora, that is.”

“Oh, um, hello,” she said. She had yet to face them fully. Even as she walked out, carrying a net of all things, the walls had her attention.

“Is she all right?” Sora asked. Fluttershy whipped around to the desk, net shaking in her grasp.

“Yeah, this is normal for Fluttershy,” Sunset said, motioning him to follow her. Fluttershy jumped and held the net back as though to catch Sunset. There were dark bags underneath her eyes. “Eh, maybe not really normal.”

Fluttershy retracted her net, her shoulders easing, and swallowed. A shiver ran through her every so often, but she wasn’t on the verge of tears, so not terrified. Sunset had a jolt of panic when she wondered if the interview had gone poorly. It wasn’t hard to attribute it to herself, and her stomach sank. More skittering broke her out of her self-loathing. Once again, there was no discernible origin.

“Did an animal get loose?” Sunset asked with a forced laugh. Fluttershy shied away, and Sunset dropped the act immediately. “Fluttershy, did the interview…? I mean, you haven’t been to school in two days, and everyone is worried.”

“Interview?” Fluttershy asked, raising her head a tad. “The one for the pet shop?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“I never got a call back,” she said. Sunset felt as though an ice-cold pick stabbed her heart. It was difficult to swallow. The only reason it hadn’t made her completely numb was from how nonchalant Fluttershy was on the matter. She was distracted, but the interview was all she had focused on for a week. She wouldn’t have brushed it off so easily.

Sunset allowed herself to breath, if just to avoid a hasty conclusion, “I’m sorry you didn’t get the job. Maybe if I didn’t push off our practice sessions…”

“Uh-huh,” Fluttershy said, eyes darting to the back room. Sora walked to it carefully, twisting his head to angle his ears closer.

“There it is again,” he said. He reached the door frame and peered inside.

“Uh, did you see something?” Sunset asked before Fluttershy hastily covered her mouth with both hands.

A few mumbles escaped Sunset, taken aback, and Fluttershy hushed her as gently as possible. They listened, catching the small sounds from their shifting feet and the muffled engines from passing cars. Sora moved subtly, though it wasn’t from caution like Fluttershy. There was too much interest, no real stake in his actions.

His eyebrows rose and made his way to the receptionist desk. His footsteps were thunderclaps, and Sunset tensed. He checked behind it, paused, then leaned back with a shake of his head.

Sunset sighed through her nose and pulled Fluttershy’s hands away.

“What’s going on?” she whispered. “I’ve never seen you-”

“I found this on my way to the interview,” Fluttershy interrupted, holding up a trinket. It was shaped like potion bottle. A yellow glass piece encased in silver. A futuristic blaster, the kind seen in old sci-fi films, was pictured.

Sunset studied it, reaching out and holding it carefully. It was light and as big as her palm. Turning it over revealed no stamps or text to indicate its creator.

“It was laying on the sidewalk,” Fluttershy said, tapping it but still keeping a watchful eye. “When I picked it up, it… um, well, I don’t think he likes being called an it.”

“He?” Sunset asked.

Sora looked over her shoulder, “Wait, that’s a-”

A inquisitive grunt came from above, and everyone froze. The three lifted their gaze to a dog-like creature clinging to the ceiling. Its brilliant blue fur stood out the most, besides his big, curious eyes blinking at them. Its ears flattened as it took another step and overreached, causing him to lose balance. It tumbled down with a mix between a growl and a howl, and the three jumped back as he landed in a heap.

“Stitch!” Sora cried. “It’s really him!”

The creature known as Stitch collected himself, hunched down, and leered at Sunset and Fluttershy. The more she studied him, the more Sunset was sure he wasn’t a dog. Some of his features were off, and not like Spike, but more like a monster. She couldn’t take his size for granted. Climbing on walls was already bizarre enough.

“Easy, boy,” Fluttershy said, already quivering. Stitch eyed her with a glower. It was the first time Sunset had seen any animal despise her. Fluttershy took baby steps towards Stitch, slowly drawing her net back, but her grimace made it seem like she would toss it away instead.

“It’s great to see him again,” Sora said, stars in his eyes. “I wish I could talk to him. He’s always bouncing off the walls, literally!”

The tension was nonexistent to him, even as it crept ever upward for everyone else. Sunset took the moment to sidle to Sora. No sudden movements. He still had his sights on Stitch, though his excitement waned. She cleared her throat to draw his gaze to her, confused.

“How come he’s so aggressive?” Sora asked. Sunset had to resist snapping at him.

“How do you know him?” she asked back. Stitch swiveled one of his ears to Sunset. “I get you travel a lot and meet a ton of people, but I figured they’d be… friendlier.”

“He is friendly,” Sora said firmly. A few seconds passed before he sagged his arms. “Sometimes.”

“Gaba ika tasoopa!?” he said, his language disjointed.

“I’m sorry!” Fluttershy said, dropping the net in fright. It clattered to the ground before Stitch plucked it and spun it overhead like a staff. All that registered to Sunset was that he had a weapon.

She dove at him, but he pushed off the floor with the net, propelling outwards. She slid across the ceramic floor with a growl, and Stitch bounded across the room and onto the wall. The net rolled off to the corner. His cackle would have came off as lighthearted if Sunset didn’t want to pelt him.

A few stammers from Fluttershy was all Sunset heard as she rushed to her feet, charging to Stitch. The first step was to pin him, and she could figure out the other steps later. Stitch ducked under her grab and bounced to the floor.

It was Sora who spoke, but Sunset still didn’t listen. Stitch had curled himself up into a ball and zipped along the floor as though on ice. Sunset gave chase, always out of reach, and the two crashed into a cardboard box by the desk. Her boot ripped a corner as toys spilled onto the floor. She kicked forward to catch herself and launched Stitch into the air with a yelp.

Her arms stopped her from colliding with the floor and a number of toys. A set of toy blasters rested underneath her sight, so close that she could see the polish in the metal.

Fluttershy whimpered. Stitch stood on the top of her head. If Fluttershy was hesitant to move before, then she was paralyzed at the moment. Even her eyes remained motionless.

“His blasters!” Sora said, far more cheerfully than Sunset felt. He knelt down and pointed to them. “Give them to him.”

“The toys?” Sunset asked, finally drawing breath after holding it. She didn’t even realize she held it.

“They’re real.”

“And you want me to give them to him?” she asked, incredulous. It was a different leap of faith than she was ready to do.

“Trust me,” Sora said. He was determined, his blue eyes gave it away, as they always have. Sunset would have said it was insane and denounced Sora for implying it would work. But there was that smile again, the one that came from the heart.

Sunset grumbled, her mind protesting, but scooped up the blasters and strode to Fluttershy, Sora by her side. Stitch turned around and around, perplexed. He growled and hunched down again when Sunset stood before him and Fluttershy. She clutched the blasters, having second thoughts. Sora shifted to face Sunset properly.

“He won’t hurt you,” he said. His tone, his expression, everything about him comforted Sunset. “You can count on it.”

She gazed at the blasters one last time before raising them to Stitch. His eyes popped and snatched the blasters.

“Ikata!” he exclaimed, hopping in place before pushing off of Fluttershy. She fell back with a squeak. Sora reacted before Sunset and caught her by the wrist…

The three of them balked.

Sora physically caught her.

Fluttershy dangled from his grip, almost intrigued as she squinted. Sora looked every which way as though an explanation would write itself somewhere.

“Is that Sora?” Fluttershy asked before she collapsed to the floor. Sora winced, holding his hands up.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…! ” he trailed off, at a loss of words, “to… do that?”

Their haggard breathing filled the empty room. Fluttershy lifted herself up to sit on her legs, turning every which way, baffled. Sunset wasn’t any better. It had to set in. She didn’t understand what happened, let alone what it meant.

“Where’d he go?” Fluttershy asked. It snapped Sunset back to her, sitting dejected as though abandoned. “I thought he appeared like he did to you and Twilight.”

“You can’t see him anymore?” Sunset asked, hurrying to her and helping her to her feet. Fluttershy shook her head. Sunset sighed. “Add another mystery to the list.”

“I think it just means what we’re doing is working!” Sora said, hands in the air. He found the positive side once again.

Stitch giggled to himself, admiring his blasters and tossing them to himself. It was as though a switch had been flipped, turning him into a bundle of joy instead of a bundle of trouble. At least, that was how Sunset viewed it.

“It’s all so much,” Fluttershy said, holding her hands together. “How’d you know he wanted the toy blasters?”

“They’re real,” Sunset said. Fluttershy jerked back to hide behind Sunset. Stitch held his blasters out. With a twirl, he spun them in his hands before pretending to holster them to his side. “Sora says he’s good. I don’t think he’ll turn them against us.”

Fluttershy shuddered, eyeing the trinket that Sunset had dropped during the tussle, “The creature popped out of nowhere when I held it.”

“Stitch,” Sora and Sunset corrected.

“Stitch?” Fluttershy asked. Two days with him, and she hadn’t learned his name. It was very unlike her.

“My name Stitch,” the creature himself said, stilted yet firm. His blasters were set aside in favor of a ukulele, carefully twisting the knobs to tune it.

“Where did he…?” Sunset said, pointing to him as he strummed the strings. A chord was still out of tune.

“Pinkie left it here,” Fluttershy explained. She stood by Sunset, curious and open like she was around other animals. “So strange. He was so overwhelming a minute ago.”

Sora nudged his nose, “That’s Stitch for you. I was able to summon him with that trinket. It’s called a Heartbinder.”

“So, a Heartbinder,” Sunset said, picking it up. There was no sign of damage, thankfully. “This belonged to Sora, and that means…”

“My stuff must have scattered,” Sora nodded. “Probably when I appeared in this world.”

Sunset was afraid of that. Fluttershy brought over a tiny demon soothed by having two blasters and a ukulele. There was no telling what Sora’s other possessions were capable of. Not to mention where they could have ended up. Finding them was yet another item on the checklist.

Sunset rubbed her forehead. Fluttershy rested a hand on her shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze.

“I… appreciate you helping, Sunset,” she said. As expected, her kindness was genuine, though Sunset didn’t need to remind herself of that. A smile eased onto her lips. “He’s been a ball of energy for days, I didn’t think anything could calm him down.”

“Oh, no no no,” Sunset said hastily, waving her arms in front of her. “Sora is the one you should be thanking. He’s the one who knew Stitch and how to calm him down. I just followed his instructions.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Fluttershy said. Sunset shook her head, her smile widening. Fluttershy glanced across the room and past Sora before fixating on a point. Her cheeks reddened, but still held a pleasant smile. “That was very sweet of you, Sora.”

His eyes widened in wonder. Sunset recognized the same expression from Twilight’s lab, thoughtful and inquisitive.

“Heh,” Sora said, glancing to Sunset. “She reminds me of Kairi.”

Fluttershy gasped, and Sunset almost wanted to laugh. She didn’t need to ask her. Relief flooded through Sunset. Their theory had merit. Sora had shown kindness and Fluttershy had acknowledged him. The pattern was set in stone, a course of action was present, and they could get Sora back. All of this ran through her head. It was a rush of idealism pushing back the few traces of reluctance, and it felt good.

“Sora!” Stitch cried. Sunset peered over to find Stitch ditch the ukulele and jump to Sora. No one got a word in before Stitch flew through him and face planted onto the floor. A groan escaped him.

Fluttershy was too shocked to say much of anything. Stitch fumbled to his feet with a curse under his breath, holding his head, and made his way back, tilting his head.

“This is Sora?” she asked. He nodded and crouched down to Stitch, grinning ear to ear.

“Hi-ya,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about earlier. Should’ve warned you that I’m a ghost right now. Glad to see you’re staying fluffy though.”

“Ih,” Stitch grunted with a curt nod. His head bobbed side to side, studying Sora before sticking his hand through him. He retracted as though burned, and his ears folded down. “Is Sora gone?”

Sora smiled, though strained, “No, nothing like that. Just… some troubles. That’s all. You know me!”

His rebounding optimism never failed. Sunset and Fluttershy drew closer, the latter raising a brow with a hand to her chin.

“He seems shorter than I expected,” she whispered. Sunset giggled.

“How come you’re out so long?” Sora asked, standing to his feet with his hands on his hips. There was frustration in his expression, but to Sunset, it was more like a pout. “He only appears for a minute when I summon him.”

Stitch hopped like a toddler in a candy store, pointing to Fluttershy, “Saari isa bootifa Achi-baba!”

Fluttershy gave a small smile, “Oh my! What a sweetheart. You’re a good friend too when you behave yourself.”

“Oh yeah!” Sora said, lighting up. “Sunset mentioned you could talk to animals.” Stitch growled at him. Sora chuckled nervously. “Not that you’re an animal, little guy.”

“Fluttershy is one of the Elements of Harmony,” Sunset said. “Her magic must give her the ability to summon him herself and maintain that summon for longer periods of time.”

“Makes sense to me,” Sora said, jabbing a thumb to his chest. “That must be how Stitch can see me too.”

Sunset tapped her foot, “Now the question is how does Fluttershy dismiss him?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stitch said, stepping briskly to Sunset. His blasters were back in his hands, and had longing in his eyes. Curiosity struck Sunset, furrowing her brow. She crouched down to him, arms crossed over her knees. “Stitch return to Lilo. Lilo is Ohana.”

“Lilo is your friend?” Sunset asked, a smile creeping up. Stitch nodded. Separated from his friends in a foreign world. Sunset couldn’t resist a glance to Sora, who stood like a proud parent.

“We’ll get you home, buddy,” Sora said, holding up a fist. “In the meantime, listen to Fluttershy, okay?”

Stitch pouted, whined, and even bowed his head. A far cry from his his rambunctious self. The similarities between him and Sora were uncanny.

“Okay,” he said, sulking to Fluttershy. No one found the words to cheer him up.

Sunset rose, solemn. The whole matter with Sora - from his appearance, the interview falling through with Fluttershy, and Stitch - stemmed from her pulling him through. She didn’t regret it, but there was a lingering doubt, especially with Maleficent and the Heartless appearing the day after.

She looked to Sora for support, for that comfort she felt earlier. His stature was relaxed, easy going, and nothing broke him away from Stitch. Both were stuck in the same boat. Her uncertainty deepened, and her stomach flipped. She needed to talk to Princess Twilight.

Chapter 7: On the Bright Side

Adagio held her ear to the door. The low echo of the empty chamber raised her frustration up a notch. They walked across town and climbed a mountain, and this was their reward. An observatory. There was plenty of reasons to scream, especially after enduring the others’ constant whining, but Adagio swallowed it down. There was more to it. They would find what they were looking for.

She closed her eyes, taking in every little sound. Her heartbeat drummed in her head.

“Should we be here?” Sonata whispered.

Adagio turned her glare to her. There was no confusion or indecision. Her eyes darted around, biting her bottom lip while stroking her ponytail. Aria stood beside her with a hand on her hip. She couldn’t be bothered to look in their direction.

“Why shouldn’t we be here?” Adagio asked, grating her teeth.

“This place is supposed to be… h-haunted,” Sonata said, hunching her shoulders. Aria whipped around to her, brow raised.

“How would you know if it’s haunted?” Aria questioned, stepping to her, arms in the air.

Sonata fiddled with her collar to nestle in her sweatshirt, eyes firmly to the pavement.

“I read it in the newspaper,” Sonata said. “They cleared everyone out and closed it down.”

“You spend your free time reading the newspaper?” Aria asked, rolling her eyes. “Not on getting money so we can eat?”

“Can’t be working all the time,” Sonata said. “I mean, what if we stumbled upon a haunted bench? You’d want to know, right?”

The two were hopeless. Adagio had to bang her head against the door to accept that. Seeing the gremlin had posed the question, but there at the observatory made it official. They couldn’t feel the Darkness like she could. Not how it draped over her like a robe of royalty, nor how it tickled the skin as it danced around them.

“It doesn’t matter if the observatory is haunted,” Adagio snapped. She settled her ear back against the cool metal. There was a thought whether it was worth to indulge them. She huffed. “That thing from before is Darkness, and this place is filled to bursting with it.”

“So you keep saying,” Aria said. Adagio sagged against the door, already hearing more complaints bounce in her head. “We haven’t felt any ‘Darkness.’ This whole trip has been a waste.”

“Aria,” Adagio said pleasantly, turning enough to look to her. Aria averted her gaze, taking a small step back. Her expression was still rock solid. “What would you propose we do instead, hmm?”

“I-I like the Darkness idea,” Sonata said with a wave, straining a smile.

“Go back to Equestria through the portal,” Aria muttered, rubbing the back of her head. Adagio narrowed her eyes ever so slightly.

“Oh, brilliant, amazing,” Adagio said. “Wonder why I haven’t thought of that myself! You know why?”

Aria opened her mouth. Adagio pushed off from the door to get in her face, jabbing a finger to her chest.

“Because the girls at that high school have the portal! You think they’ll let us stroll through like we never tried to take control of this stupid world? Even if we do get to Equestria, our gems were destroyed. We’d be no better there! Any other enlightening ideas?”

Aria shrunk down, wrapping her arms around herself. It sent a jolt through Adagio. Seeing Aria put in her place always put her in a good mood. She eyed Sonata and internally begged for her to speak up with another trivial tidbit. Instead, Sonata pursed her lips, as though forcing herself to stay quiet.

Adagio grunted, “This is why I’m in charge.”

She reached for the handle and threw open the door. Vines twisted and tangled themselves over the walls and dome ceiling, riddled with thorns. It blocked the outside world, as though grown for that intention. Even as the three shuffled inside, there was very little of the observatory itself. What little light broke through dimly illuminated the floor and telescope.

It radiated with Darkness. Adagio drew closer, catching an insignia etched onto its side.

An emerald fire raged in front of her. She backpedaled back to the other two, holding up a hand to block the heat. When it died down, a woman bore down over them, transparent like a specter. No other word described her better than dominant. The horns, the staff, the cloak itself; She rose high and mighty above them, and a chill ran through Adagio.

The woman swept her gaze over them, indifferent, “There is nothing for you here. Begone.”

“W-who are you?” Sonata asked.

“Be silent!” she cried, rising her arms as fire enwreathed her. The flames licked at the Dazzlings, and they recoiled even further away. Sonata covered her face, shivering. “If you value your lives, you will leave at once!”

Adagio almost did just that. Her legs tensed, wanting to push off to get as far away as possible. Her mind kept them in place, paralyzed, and she had to steel herself.

“I want the Darkness,” she said, suddenly finding it difficult to breath. “Let me have it.”

The inferno still burned with no end. Adagio wasn’t sure if the woman would incinerate them where they stood. However, the heat faded until the woman held an ounce of intrigue. She still didn’t care for them. Adagio could tell, and wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“The Darkness has lead you here,” the woman said. Her eyes pierced through Adagio, searching her very soul. Something amused her as a smile crept up. “You will refer to me as Maleficent.”

Adagio nodded, standing straight as a board and taking tiny, slow steps closer. Aria and Sonata stayed rigid, bowing their heads to avoid facing Maleficent.

“Tell me,” Maleficent said, holding her staff with both hands. “Why is it you desire Darkness?”

Adagio opened her mouth, hesitated, then took in a deep breath, “Revenge.”

“Ah,” Maleficent said, tilting her head away. “You are of no use to me.”

A door had slammed in Adagio’s face. The Darkness still beckoned her onward, except at the moment, it toyed with her, mocked her. Her hands clenched into fists.

“You have no right-!”

“I have every right, Siren,” Maleficent said, her gaze as cold as ice. Adagio nearly swallowed her tongue. “Magic might hide you from others but not me. As for your request, I have no use for you three. Only one of you seeks Darkness for revenge, the rest are merely pawns, and it shows very clearly.”

Impatience layered her words, and they were aimed firmly at Adagio. Maleficent regarded them again. Aria and Sonata glanced to Adagio, for a response or an order, she didn’t know. Adagio sat at an impasse, refusing to back down but also refusing to speak up.

“Now, take your revenge elsewhere,” Maleficent said, with a dismissive flourish of her fingers. “The Heartless prey on the weak, and I have grander intentions for them than that.” Whatever elegance she presented fell to a grimace. Her throat rumbled, and Adagio stiffened. “Enter.”

The entrance creaked open, allowing light to pour in, and a bulky, cat-like person shifted into view. A few seconds was enough for Adagio to grimace herself. His outfit did little to hide his fat. If Maleficent didn’t resent their presence, Adagio would have some choice words for him.

“Are ya done?” he asked, shirking down as his eyes zipped between the Dazzlings and Maleficent. “I heard ya had some guests and figured I’d stay put until they-”

“Forget them, fool,” Maleficent exclaimed. “Recall the Tricksters. My plan is coming to fruition, and their purpose is needed elsewhere.”

“Wait, what?” he said, resting his large hands on hips. He passed through the Dazzlings, muttering, before standing before Maleficent. “I thought we were raidin’ that there orchard. You know, the one you had me scout? There’s plenty of research there!”

“Orchard?” Adagio whispered to herself. Maleficent shifted her gaze to her before turning back to Pete.

“Irrelevant,” Maleficent said. “The Heartless have spread enough turmoil. The seed I have planted at that wretched school has sprouted. There will be no need for any of that research.”

Pete growled, “Yeah, waste my time, why don’tcha. You going to even explain what your ol’ plan is anyway? Does it involve these three?”

“Hardly,” Maleficent said sharply. Once again, the look she gave was enough indication for Adagio to take her leave. It came far more naturally to her than earlier. Every step alleviated the tension, until she stood out in the sun again. Aria and Sonata sighed, a hand to their forehead as though they had evaded a grizzly fate.

As soon as the door closed, Adagio got a good look at the observatory again. The Darkness still concentrated there, even when the metal walls and congruent wires were untouched and benign. The telescope, jutting out of the dome, magnified the power she sought.

“Like I said,” Aria said, walking past. “A waste of time.”

Heartless, orchard, school; three terms that Adagio rolled over in her head. It wasn’t hard to determine what Maleficent intended to do. She wasn’t as cool as she wanted to seem.

“So…” Sonata said. Her hands held together as she managed a small smile. She was relieved. Adagio didn’t like it one bit. “Back to finding money?”

“Actually,” Adagio said, “we’re going to wait her out.”

“Maleficent?” Aria said, stomping back to her. “Are you crazy? She’ll get what she wants and take off.”

Adagio picked out the buildings and structures from their view atop the mountain. An apple orchard at the far edge of town, opposite the observatory, and Canterlot High School were immediately noticeable to her.

She smirked, “Oh, I think she’ll have a little more trouble than she bargained for.”

For once, Sunset wished the cafeteria wasn’t so rambunctious. The battle against the Heartless the other day still made the rounds. It drew classmates to speculate and make their own inferences. They made every moment out of class lively, though much harder to do anything else. Even as Sunset sat up straight, poised with hands intertwined on the table, the general buzz became less and less background noise.

“Did you see a guy there next to Sunset Shimmer?”

“I hope I don’t have to face those things myself.”

“What if those dark beings are based off our nightmares?”

“There’d be more clowns, if that was the case.”

“Rarity! Use your magic like before!”

That knocked Rarity out of her thoughts. Pondering Sunset’s request was one thing, but to fall into her mind for a full minute was another. The lack of privacy didn’t ease Sunset either, not that she didn’t have a choice. Lunch was the only time Rarity was available, and she finally recognized she hadn’t given Sunset an answer.

“I do appreciate the gesture, darling,” Rarity said, toying with her broccoli with a fork. “But didn’t I tell you not to work yourself over the centerpiece? We already agreed you have far more important matters on your hands.”

They hadn’t agreed on anything, as Sunset recalled, her fingers tightening. Rarity merely pushed Sunset for it, even though it sounded more like a rejection of her help. She took a deep breath, her face softening. There was never any spite from Rarity. To hold a grudge against her was petty.

“Sora wants to help,” Sunset said, focusing on Rarity’s eyes, how they furrowed ever so slightly. “He’s collected a lot of crystals and gems from his travels. There’s bound to be one to work as a centerpiece.”

Rarity hummed, “Better than my own?”

Sunset blinked, mind running blank. Her immediate response was far too backhanded, but any other left her stuttering. She broke eye contact to focus on her hands.

“Oh, I’m teasing, of course,” Rarity giggled. Sunset forced a smile, though relief still flooded her body. There was a brief pause as Rarity mulled the proposition over with a hand to her cheek. “Sora is still a phantom, correct?”

“Technically, yes,” Sunset answered, rubbing the back of her neck. “But we know his stuff scattered when I brought him here. Fluttershy found one herself, so we’re bound to stumble on more.”

That was the promise yielded from discovering the Heartbinder. In truth, there was no guarantee they would find another item, let alone an item that would make for a good centerpiece. Sunset had to look to Sora at the head of the table. His arms were crossed, staring intently at the table. He knew the risk as well as her.

He caught her stare and smiled brightly. That same reassurance, that same smile. Sunset eased her shoulders, far lighter than before.

“There might be a lot going on,” Sunset said, reaching out to rest her hand on top of Rarity’s. “But Sora and I are willing to help. Plus, it’s hard to tell him no.”

“You two are inseparable,” she said with a knowing look. Sunset retracted her hand, a sheepish smile spreading under her blush. “Very well. I trust you, both of you. Why, if there’s anyone who would want to rectify a mistake, I’d be hard pressed to find another person like you, Sunset.” She quickly cleared her throat, glancing behind her as she leaned over. “Don’t tell the other girls that.”

There was an alternative motive to the promise, but to make that promise still made Sunset fuzzy on the inside. Sora reflected it more outwardly by pumping his fist. Rarity balked at him, cross but curious. The fuzziness intensified as Sunset stood, gesturing to him.

“Rarity, meet Sora,” she said. He waved and brandished that wholesome grin that Sunset was all too familiar with. “My little distraction over the last week.”

“Really?” Sora said, his arms hanging limp beside him. “That’s how you introduce me?”

“I’m just telling the truth,” Sunset said with a sly smirk. “I didn’t say you were a bad distraction.”

Sora nudged his nose, “It’s more the implication. If anything, you get distracted too easily.”

“If you say-” Sunset started before Rarity jumped out of her seat to Sora. “...So.”

He jerked back, but Rarity stuck close, narrowing her eyes. She dipped a hand to her pocket and withdrew her red sewing glasses. Sunset wasn’t sure what to say, but Rarity scrutinized his sleeve, every hem and seam, and it became clear. Sunset chuckled.

“Is clothing all you think of?” she asked. Her classmates watched them, and though it dampened her teasing, having Sora uncomfortable with the situation made up for it.

“Is she into clothing?” Sora asked. Rarity gestured for him to stretch his arm out, which he did reluctantly.

“Yes, but she doesn’t do this to everyone she meets,” Sunset said, shuffling around the table to them. Rarity glanced to her. “You must have very special clothing.”

“Indeed,” Rarity said. She was to the point, never dawdling on any patch of his jacket. “Where did you get your attire?”

Sora looked to Sunset, still unsure, but she waved him along.

“Master Yen Sid,” he said. Rarity hummed and took a step back. Sunset would have intervened, give Sora some slack. Instead, she propped herself against the table with a smile.

“Oh, he’s a master alright,” Rarity said with a nod. She shot up to his face with a smile rivaling Pinkie. “A master tailor!”

She lost herself in excited giggles, twisting around as though she had struck gold. Sunset and Sora looked to one another. His grimace told her to step in. She had her fun.

“I think it’s time-” Sunset said, raising a hand.

“Oh! It’s all so clean,” Rarity said, clapping her hands together. “The composition must be a blend of cotton and denim. Though it wouldn’t explain how fluid the fabric is. Perhaps there’s silk or linen, but that would saturate the adhesion. It may even be a material I’ve never seen before. And his outfit is made entirely of it!”

“Uh Rarity?”

“Much like your unorthodox appearance, you must involve magic. Though given your travels, it should come as no surprise. There has to be an apt comparison to spring off.”

She took another gander at Sora before replacing her glasses with her phone. A check at the screen made her tense.

“Oh my word, I need to meet Pinkie at the gym!” she took a few more hasty bites of her broccoli, contorting from the taste, and swallowed it down with her bag in hand. “You simply must visit me when you’re less, er, spectral, Sora. Your attire is modern, a breath of fresh air, and its secrets will be mine. I will not take no for an answer. Until then, ta-ta!”

And she was off, hurrying with long strides and with a few gawkers. More from the scene than anything else. That was what Sunset concluded because she was no different. No words escaped her mouth. She wasn’t even sure how to process that.

“You sure Pinkie is the hyper one?” Sora asked, sidling up to her.

“I swear she isn’t all about clothing,” Sunset said, holding up her hands with an apologetic smile. A few chuckles escaped her. “She can get off topic easily, but she’s actually down to earth.”

Sora crossed his arms with a smirk, “Hey, I don’t mind. Your friends are really great.”

“I guess after everything you’ve been through, eccentric friends is the norm.”

“More or less,” Sora said. He grunted, giving a thumbs up and a wink. “But hey! We got Rarity to see me!”

“Right,” Sunset said, crouching to her bag. With notebook in hand, she stood and paced to the side, engrossed in the progress they made. There was a certain swing to her legs, almost prancing around Sora, who eyed her curiously. He leaned to get a peek of her notebook.

“What do you have there?” he asked. Sunset turned it around to show the timetables and strategies that filled the paper. There was some satisfaction when Sora read it with awe.

“Rarity only had time to talk as soon as the lunch period started,” Sunset said, turning the notebook back to herself. “Applejack is free until classes resume, and Rainbow Dash is training right before then. If we play our cards right, you’ll be seen by the two of them and hopefully get your real body back before the end of school. Even if that doesn’t work, Twilight - the princess, not the one you know - offered to come over to evaluate the situation. There’s also getting you to write down more tips on fighting Heartless.”

“That’s a lot,” Sora said. So simple, yet it derailed Sunset’s train of thought. His awe had shifted to concern, an expression that gripped her heart and left her wanting to know why.

“Well, yeah, it’s a lot,” she said, her mind still reeling. The careful writing didn’t fill her with hope as it had last night. “When it comes to you, there’s nothing ‘few’ about it. We can knock this out of the park in less than an hour.”

“But…” Sora said, rubbing the back of his head. “That’s taking it really fast. Too fast.”

It was as though Sora had curbed her motivation. There was no complaint from him earlier, and if anything, he should have danced in joy at the work she put into getting through it “too fast.” She slammed her notebook on the table with a look that got him to recede.

“This is to get you fully back to reality, back to your friends,” Sunset said, pushing her palms to him. “Not to mention Maleficent and her Heartless are out there, plotting against us. We need your help.”

“Did you plan to eat?” Sora asked. Once again, Sunset lost where her argument went, blinking at him. “You were already at school before it started, and you skipped breakfast too.”

There was a lot to shout at him, the topmost being she didn’t need any food. What arose clearly in her mind, however, was Princess Twilight’s advice last night in her bed. It tapered her anger, returning that wedge to split into her heart and fester.

Always have a plan. Even if it backfires, planning takes away the worry. It won’t wash away your regret, but it’ll ease it.

Sunset had recited that in her head as a mantra, working hours into the night to plan and get Sora back fully and active. To have a real smile from him. Regret propped up again and constrained her. She needed an escape, a breather.

“Meet me in the music room,” Sunset said. Sora raised his head an inch, but didn’t protest. It helped Sunset had a look that she didn’t want to discuss it. What didn’t help was his empty stare. “I need to talk to Wallflower about… plants.”

It was a lame excuse, but she didn’t care. A simple glance to the side was enough to see the cafeteria watch with both confusion and concern. The discussion itself took a blow to her confidence, and it made a whole new scene to gawk at. She growled and marched off.

Her plans were up in the air, but the reason for those plans was at the forefront of her mind. She pushed through the door to the barren hallway.

Her head was hot, her hands shook, and she wanted nothing more than to banish the thought plaguing her. A part of her wished she hadn’t brought Sora into her world. That was the line of thought that got her to confess to Twilight. Admitting that part of her, bringing so much trouble to her friends, manifested a pain in her chest. That same pain reared its ugly head again, and was much worse when she couldn’t get Sora out of her mind.

There came a knock at the door, and Principal Celestia was glad for it. Hours contemplating the monsters had left her desperate for explanations, solutions, or any knowledge to address it. She rounded her desk to the door and swung it open. Luna, holding a folder to her chest, reeled back, eyes wide. Celestia kept herself composed, even though she wanted to yank Luna in to get straight to it. She gestured inside, and Luna walked past with a sideways glance.

“I didn’t expect a personal welcome,” she said. The folder was still kept close as Celestia closed the door. She made her way back to her office chair, eager to rip into the folder’s contents. “I understand you are anxious…”

“More than anxious, Luna,” Celestia said, falling into her chair. She rolled it to the desk and presented her hand. Luna passed her the folder, lips pursed. Celestia didn’t pay it mind, spreading the contents over her desk.

Terms and phrases leapt out to her, recurring and worthy of note. Dark, gremlin-like creatures; a phantom popping in and out of existence, always of a teenage boy; and the fact both instances occurred within days of each others. It was a full report, as Celestia had requested, but even from skimming the lengthier sections, crucial interviews were missing.

“Sunset Shimmer and the others,” Celestia said, quirking a brow. Luna stood a little straighter, hands behind her. “You never spoke to them? About any of it? The ones who were always at the center of instances like this?”

Luna held her breath, staring ahead. It prodded at Celestia like a student refusing to speak. She filled her lungs, her mind already bubbling with a few choice words, but bit her tongue, steepling her hands instead. They had worked to achieve their positions as the heads of the school, and had done well to maintain them, with patience at the stead. And at the end of the day, Luna was her sister. She didn’t withhold information from her.

“You have your reasons, I assume,” Celestia asked. She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the desk. Her eyes flicked across the documents as though she may have missed a vital point.

“I do,” Luna said, aloof. It fell away fast as she hugged herself. “Though maybe not for good reasons.”

Her tone had a hint of hesitance. Celestia hadn’t heard it in a long time, and it got her to soften.

Luna didn’t match her gaze, bowing her head, “Sunset Shimmer had received detention for disruption regarding phantoms only she could see. The next day, she arrived to school early and had fallen because of the same phantoms. I made sure she hadn’t hurt herself, but since then I’ve felt…”

Her shoulders tensed with a thousand yard gaze. Either she couldn't describe the feeling or doing so unsettled her. Luna shook herself, tightened her grip on her arms. Celestia pushed herself to her feet, a hand out, but Luna managed a smile. It didn’t relax Celestia.

“A certain magic is connected to Sunset,” Luna said. “I knew she was involved with the creatures and the phantom the students had glimpsed.”

“Is that not more reason to question them?” Celestia said, trying to keep her voice civil. Her brashness always reared up at the wrong times. She sighed. “You felt this magic and still didn’t seek out what they know.”

“They would have told us if it was important,” Luna snapped. Celestia pulled back a tad, enough for Luna to wince and press a hand to her forehead. “They definitely know, and would have told us if we asked, but even if they did, I’m afraid of what they might say.”

Celestia couldn’t suppress a groan, closing her eyes to remind herself Luna had her reasons. Though also reminded herself Luna thought they were poor reasons.

“Where is this coming from? A hunch?” Celestia asked harshly. Luna bowed her head, shying away like Celestia had chided her when they were children.

When she raised her eyes, they pierced Celestia with pure uncertainty, and for an instant, she understood. The feeling vanished as quick as it appeared, but it lingered, even as Luna dug into her pocket. She clenched her hands before holding one out and loosening her grip to allow a keychain to dangle from it.

Celestia swallowed, her breath hitched, and watched the keychain pivot. She was unfamiliar with the design. Three diamonds, all sun-yellow and made of glass, attached in a chain before ending with a platinum star. Its center was similar to the night sky, dense with stars and nebulae. Unfamiliar, but its purpose was the same.

“Our old master,” Celestia said firmly, though it was hard to stay level. Her emotions were in turmoil following the swell of memories coming from such a small ornament. “It may involve him.”

“Precisely,” Luna said. Despite her nature before, fire burned in her to spur her on. Celestia wasn’t surprised. For all his good intentions, there was seldom a good memory associated with him. “You know this isn’t from an accessory store. This is from a keyblade.”

Celestia settled back in her chair, a hand running down her face. There was no argument to it. Celestia took the keychain from Luna, and a tingle radiated from it. Light. As their master had always drilled into their head. A ghost of a smile reached her lips. Months of training from him, and they never learned his real name. That should have been the first sign, but they were only teenagers back then.

“That magic connection you felt from Sunset,” Celestia said. She wrapped the keychain around her hand to rub her thumb against the star. It was oddly comforting, loosening her insides. “It was similar?”

“Yes,” Luna said. “Which is why it was… hard to ask any of them.”

“You know you could have come to me,” Celestia said, her voice raising. “I could have asked them myself. You wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

Luna nodded slowly, “But you know just as well what it means if it is him.”

“We’re not training under him anymore,” Celestia said, tossing the keychain to the desk. It rattled across the documents. She thought she had thrown harder than that, from how her insides boiled. Her brow furrowed to match. “He has no right to appear now to finish it. Maybe in the past, I would have thought different. In fact, If I had left with him, then we could have dealt with these incidents at the school!”

“Yeah,” Luna said. So quiet, so reclusive. It knocked Celestia out of her anger, suddenly aware of where every part of her body was.

Not a day went by Celestia reminded herself what she could have accomplished as a keyblade master, especially with everything the school went through. She tended to forget Luna was also reminded of that. The way their master only wanted Celestia, regardless of how much Luna had trained…

Celestia eyed the documents and the keychain. They needed a course of action, especially with the magic of a keyblade in the works. The monsters meant they couldn’t dally either. She got to her feet yet again, turning to the window, to the school itself. After the last year, there was really only one course of action.

“Luna,” Celestia said. Luna snapped to attention. Celestia sighed. “Sister.”

That relaxed her, eyeing her with a tilt of her head.

“Bring Sunset and her friends here,” Celestia continued. She didn’t want to drag them into this mess, but they were already a part of it, as always. “We have to tell them as soon as possible, regardless of your reasons.”

“Very well,” Luna said stiffly. She grunted as she shifted to leave, facing the wall. “I did tell you they weren’t good reasons.”

“I’m not in the mood, Luna,” Celestia said, snatching the keychain again. It swung in her hand, entrancing. Their master walked away, a keychain swaying in his grasp. Even as the door clicked shut, her mind replayed that over and over. She really wished it wouldn’t.

Something was wrong. A torn tulip lay at the edge of the forest, the pedals a jumble of mush. Wallflower left a note at the yearbook room that she was at the garden. There was no way she would ignore a flower in that condition, especially one well away from the others, forgotten. Sunset hurried through the foliage. It concealed the garden from the school, making it easier for anybody to rampage through without notice. When she reached the clearing, her stomach dropped.

One of the three boulders that the garden was built around had been smashed. Large segments had rolled over and flattened surrounding plants. The rest were upturned by gashes cutting into the earth, exposing roots. Dirt coated the scene in a thin layer.

Sunset took careful steps, heart beating against her chest. She kept her eyes peeled for the one responsible. Branches were sliced cleanly, lying broken with leaves still attached, and the smell of fertilizer meant it had also been scattered in the chaos. The stepping stones were untouched, guiding Sunset across.

Her first thought was who would do such a thing, but it was immediately thrown away when she didn’t see Wallflower Blush, who would have been at the center of it all. Sunset whipped her head at every cluster of plants, any conceivable place to hide. A pool of water reflected the canopy, and it trickled away from a tipped over watering can.

Sunset knelt to pull the watering can close. Mud clung to its side, rubbing onto her hand. Wallflower had used it. To have it there, discarded, meant…

Sunset couldn’t swallow, couldn’t even breathe. Her hair fell to her face, and she hastily brushed it back behind her ear.

Standing was a struggle. Her head was too light to make out anything, even as her eyes scanned the trees. Wallflower had fled into the forest. It made the most sense. Sunset got a few steps in before something hurtled onto the tallest boulder. Paper arms waved around like a jig, legs bounced from one to the other, and those uncaring, yellow eyes pierced her.

“Heartless,” she breathed.

A flash of anger broke out of her panic. She would have denounced the Heartless, screamed and screamed until she lost her voice. Instead, her rational side had her backpedal and ignore the plants she inadvertently stomped on. The Heartless leapt off its pedestal and plowed through the ground. Sunset jumped aside as it rose back up. Dirt and rocks pelted her.

She stifled her anger and ran. To where, to who, she didn’t care. Knotted roots caught her boots. The vegetation was thick enough to hamper her. Every slip up sent a jolt of panic. She spared a glance back. The Heartless persisted. It jumped from one branch to the next, sometimes even springing from the trunks.

Sunset charged through the branches to make it back to the parking lot. Canterlot High still stood strong. She raced across the asphalt and to the door. The Heartless nicked her shoulder, staggering her. She got to the door and slipped inside. Sunset hissed in pain, but held the door closed. The Heartless beat against the glass, though its attempts were feeble. She had a moment to asses her injury.

Her fingers brushed her shoulder, and clenched her teeth from the sting. It was sensitive but manageable. Another knock against the door nearly toppled her. The Heartless swayed in place from the impact.

There came a shallow whistle, loud enough to resonate through the door and halt the Heartless in place. It faced the direction of the whistle before it fell into itself in a dark orb, vanishing.

She twisted around to sit on the floor. Her insides were a tangled mess, and her head was heavy. She would have charged back outside to stop her uselessness from crashing down on her anger. Her hands clamped onto her head, and she brought her knees close to her chest. She couldn’t think, not without seeing that Heartless in her mind’s eye. She ran from it, like she ran from the Shadows. Useless.

The thought of Wallflower facing that monster…

Sunset forced herself to her feet, hands shaking. She had to get her friends. She had to do something.

The room rumbled, and for a moment, it broke Sora out of his thoughts. Applejack narrowed her eyes at the vibrating walls until they stopped. There was more energy from her, at least to stay attentive. Minutes of reading had made her lethargic. The same could be said for Sora. The small tremor was nothing more than that.

The ceiling consumed his vision, lying at the top of the choir stands with his head resting on his hands. His appearances were still too random to have a conversation with someone, or even appear to reveal himself. Sitting in the same room with Applejack didn’t make him comfortable.

“That was weird,” Applejack muttered, shuffling away. She never tore away from the wall itself, as though another tremor would strike. And it did, shaking more violently to jostle Sora from his perch.

“That was even weirder,” Sora said. He jumped off the stands to the window. Blinds blocked his view, still swaying under the tremor. He angled to see through a thin space against the sill, spotting green and gray. The same as it had always been.

“Sora! Applejack!” Sunset yelled, sliding into the room.

Both had a start, spiking their heart rate. A smile and a tease brimmed in Sora, but it fell away when he saw her wide eyes, gasping for air. She was shaken, staring at them as though to plead for their support, and her movements were twitchy enough that she couldn’t stay still, rubbing her hands or looking every which way. Any way to stay moving.

“What’s the matter, Sugarcube?” Applejack asked, hurrying to her. She raised a brow. “Wait, did you say Sora? Is that feller here?”

“Yes, but it’s not important,” she said. Her breathes were erratic, and it was a miracle she didn’t stutter. Even as Sora closed in, Sunset still had her attention to him. “Sora, the Heartless. I mean, it had to be a Heartless. It was different, but it- it doesn’t matter!” She stomped her foot, holding out her hands. Anger seeped into her panic, furrowing her brow. “Heartless attacked Wallflower! I think she’s…”

It was so sudden that Sora couldn’t grasp the gravity of that statement. There should have been a lump in his throat, maybe sweaty palms and a shiver. Instead, he had to turn over the words in his head.

“Wallflower,” Sora repeated, stiff and almost emotionless. “Your friend from the yearbook club, right?”

“Yes! She’s gone,” Sunset said. Her gaze was downcast, distraught. “I don’t know… what to do.”

That hit harder than any Heartless could. Despite the disparity between their emotions, Sora knew what she went through.

“Take it easy,” Sora said, holding up a hand. He wished more than ever he could draw it around her. “We’ll get her back. I promise.”

“Back up a minute,” Applejack said, rolling her hand, still confused. “A Heartless attacked Wallflower Blush? Like the ones that attacked you, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash?”

“No, it was… a variation,” Sunset said, shaking her head. Conflict arose in her expression, wrestling her memories. “It wasn’t a Shadow - the ones from the other day - this had a symbol on it. Almost…”

The word was lost on her. She had hand to her head, struggling and desperate to explain it. Sora didn’t press her nor Applejack. They both absorbed the information. To lose a person in this world, especially a friend to Sunset, didn’t sit well with him. Trapped as a ghost left him worthless. He stared at his fingers, and blinked when the room shook once again.

“What in tarnation…?” Applejack said before a black vine burst through the window. Glass burst and flew, the three covering their eyes as a shock wave passed over them. The vine slithered along the ceiling, coiling, before thrusting through the wall. A crack split down where it had gone through.

The three were aghast. Sora studied it, finding the vine thick and the texture dancing with a blend of blacks, blues, and purples. Thorns jutted in several spots. It had to belong to a Heartless.

Another rumble, this one made everyone stumble. Applejack caught herself on the stands, but Sunset tripped and landed on her shoulder. She cried out, and Sora rushed to her side.

“What’s going on?!” she asked, pushing herself up. Everything from her tone to her eyes both demanded and prayed for an answer. Sora clenched his teeth.

There was a scream, then several more in succession, the hallway overflowed with yells and cries. Crashes further through the school brought more shakes, and another vine slid through the ceiling, knocking down the wiring and lighting.

“I wish I could tell you,” Sora said. His mind already brought up tactics and ways to tackle the situation. Each one fell apart when he reminded himself he was only a ghost, an observer. Useless.

Applejack crossed his mind.

He set a hand on Sunset's shoulder, feeling it move with every breath she took, “We need to get Applejack to see me.”

Chapter 8: The Cruel Contrast

“Ya want me ta what?!”

Applejack whipped her head to Sunset before smashing a fist into another Shadow. She was flabbergasted, as Sunset would have reacted if the proposition was given to her. The hallway was teeming with Heartless, mostly Shadows, twitching and crawling. A vine hung in the back with a dark orb pulsing with a disgusting warble when a Shadow emerged and fell. One after another, their ranks increased.

Sunset broke away from them. They weren’t the focus.

“I need you to pull back and help get Sora seen,” she said, gesturing to him. Like her, Sora was tense, unable to stay still. He wanted to act, wanted to do something useful. She couldn’t look to him for more than a few seconds.

“If ya haven’t noticed,” Applejack said, backhanding a Shadow into the lockers. “There are Heartless inside the school! We ain’t got time to worry about him!”

A slew of reasons arose in Sunset pointing exactly why they needed to worry about him. Except it never reached her mouth. The amount of Heartless was staggering, and it was only one hallway. They needed Sora, but they couldn’t get him without ignoring the problem, even for a few minutes.

A classmate rounded the corner down the hall and skidded to a halt at the sea of Shadows.

A door burst open and a Heartless tackled the classmate from behind the Shadows. His scream was cut short. Sunset stared agape. A crystallized heart arose from his form. It hovered above, rotating, before darkness swallowed it.

Dread welled up in Sunset.

Sora growled, “We’re not getting anywhere!”

A Heartless climbed onto the vines latched to the walls and ceiling. Applejack glared at it clamoring along before it dropped down in front of her.

It had all the qualities of a monkey. Stooped body, flexible tail, and rounded ears. It shared the same emblem on its chest as the one that attacked Sunset, and seeing it again sent a jolt through her.

Applejack rounded on it with a jab, but the Heartless weaved around her fist and swiped back. A quick side step got Applejack away, and she attempted an overhead punch. The Heartless slid back and stalked to the side, keeping its glowing eyes on her.

“Powerwild,” Sora said, pointing to it. “It’s slippery. She needs to let it attack first then counter it.”

“Applejack, let it attack then counter,” Sunset relayed.

Applejack twitched towards Sunset. The Powerwild pounced again. It claws were a fury of swipes. She slid one foot to the side and delivered a punch straight at its head. It turned into black mist instantly.

It didn’t stop the onslaught. Shadows still poured through the hall. Applejack stepped back and flexed her fingers.

“Wish I had my gloves,” she said, shaking one of her hands. “This is gettin’ painful.”

“Which is why we can’t keep this up forever,” Sunset said, stepping up to her, arms wide. The loss of her classmate still clung to her. “We have to get you to see Sora. It’ll bring him back.”

“And what, leave everyone else?” Applejack snapped back. She stepped forward with a punt to the nearest Shadow. It shot up to the ceiling. Chunks caved onto the floor before it dropped back into the swarm. “I need to get to Apple Bloom. No way am I goin’ anywhere until I know she’s safe.”

Sunset couldn’t muster an argument. Her hands clutched her head, trying not to imagine what would happen if the Heartless did get to Apple Bloom. A lump formed in her throat.

“We’ll have to get through the Heartless first,” Sora said. His brow was furrowed. It framed his eyes in a way that was almost scary. Sunset was back on the front lawn, back facing the Heartless for the first time. He was more useless than her as a phantom, yet he still wanted to face down the enemy.

“We…” Sunset said, her voice hoarse. She took a deep breath. Fear couldn’t take root. “You need to get to Rainbow Dash.” Sora balked, and she spoke over him. “Applejack is occupied, and I’d just get in the way. If we can at least get-”

The school shook, rocking the three of them.

Sora grabbed her shoulder before it phased through. He growled at his hand before throwing it to the side.

“Nuh-uh, not going to happen,” he said. Sunset stared at him and flinched when Applejack took down another shadow.

“Wha-what do you mean?” Sunset asked. Her heart could burst through her chest at any moment.

“I made a promise to stay by your side, no matter what,” Sora said firmly. His eyes begged her not to argue. Her insides boiled anyway.

“Sora,” she said, far more level than she felt, “Twilight Sparkle is with Rainbow. She can help communicate, work something out. You’re going to have to break that promise.”

“I’m not leaving your side,” Sora reaffirmed. A crash of metal broke them away. Applejack had her hand in a broken locker door.

“Shoot,” she said. A tug got her arm out and left the locker in shambles. She caught a glimpse of Sunset and grunted. “If ya’ll are done chattin’, we have a brawl to attend to.”

Sunset groaned, “You two have something in common at least.”

“We do?” Sora asked. Sunset had to look to him to make sure he wasn't joking.

“Any time, Sunset!” Applejack said. A Shadow leapt right into her grip. She flung it crashing back through several more Heartless. They were getting antsy, ebbing closer.

There was so much to say, but her head was clogged. One course of action bounced around.

“All right,” Sunset said, hurrying to Applejack’s side. Sora did the same. “We’ll punch through and get to your sister.” Uncertainty swept through and softened her. “Promise.”

“Oh, we’ll punch through alright,” Applejack sneered, cracking her knuckles.

Rainbow Dash burst through the door and skidded to a halt. Twilight followed behind, gasping for air, and Spike leapt inside as she slammed the door shut. Her hands slide down to the handle and locked it. A Heartless rammed into the glass with a dull bump and toppled over until another Heartless did the same. Twilight wrapped her magic around a set of lockers and strained herself to slide it across the hall. Metal scraped against the tile and grated her ears. The door was reinforced, but another Heartless still tried to break it down.

“What the hay is going on!?” Rainbow yelled, throwing her arms in the air. “Is that Maleficent witch back?”

“No clue,” Twilight gasped, hands on her knees. The Heartless were far more monstrous than she had thought. Feral, numerous, and they had taken the lives of her classmates. She could still see their hearts floating above. It wasn’t a trick of the eye. To think a part of them was gone made her stomach churn.

Spike slid in front of her vision, “W-what do we do?”

“We take ‘em down!” Rainbow said, clenching a fist in front of her. “Pulverize ‘em, beat ‘em to a pulp, teach ‘em a lesson! It worked last time.”

“No,” Twilight said, still breathing hard. Rainbow gawked at her as though she had lost her mind. “We need to find Sora. He would be with Sunset.”

“Ugh, forget that sissy!” Rainbow brushed off, rolling her eyes. “He’s a ghost-phantom thing. What’s he going to do, scare the Heartless away?”

“Sunset told us he’s dealt with these things before,” she said. She set a hand against the lockers. They shifted from every Heartless throwing themselves against it. “If we can get him seen by you and Applejack, he might return. He’ll know the best course of action.”

“Forget it!” Rainbow said. She swiped her hand through the air. “We have to help the school, and I’m the fastest one to reach-”

“Rainbow!” Twilight shouted. Rainbow flinched.

Her mind ran blank. Any list of reasons could materialize and Twilight would still be at a loss. The school was overrun, the fate of her friends were unknown, and they had seen their classmates disappear. In her mind, Sora could fix it. It was the most logical choice to get him back.

She swallowed. There were other options too. Perhaps better ones.

Glass shattered behind her before the lockers skidded. Dark claws grasped through the opening. Twilight waved her magic and the locker pressed back against the door. It crushed the arms in the opening. Black mist billowed into the hall.

“Fine, Fine!” Rainbow said. Her voice and expression fluctuated. She caught Twilight’s gaze and crossed her arms. “But how are we going to get to him and Sunset? Where are they?”

“I can sniff Sunset out,” Spike spoke up. The two gawked at him, brows furrowed. He avoided making eye contact. “W-well, I think I can.”

“You think?” Rainbow said. Spike shriveled.

“Dunno, her scent pops in and out,” Spike shrugged. “Like someone dumped water on her or something.”

Rainbow retreated. Her shoulders tight and hunched. Twilight didn’t like the thought Sunset was hard to find. She and Spike had spent enough time with her to have him pick up her scent from miles away.

The lockers rocked again. It wouldn’t hold. More glass shattered further down the hall. A Heartless poked its head out a window.

Twilight took a shaky breath. It didn’t cool her panic.

“Lead the way, Spike.”

He snapped to attention. His paw held up in salute.

“Yes, ma’am!”

The gym was a hive of Heartless.

Rarity couldn’t quell her shaky breathes. The chatter and sobs of her classmates behind her set a stone in her stomach. Her barriers were the only shield between them and the Heartless.

They didn’t make an attempt to break through. Some stalked along the barrier, others swarmed around each other like insects. Everything was tinted white, but their darkness ebbed through and stained the gymnasium black.

It added to the sick feeling stewing in her stomach. The first was from the vines slithering through the walls and doors to ensnare every exit. Several pustules grew along the stems with Darkness arising in droves.

Her heart dropped when she glanced over to the stage. Where Lyra Heartstrings, Micro Chips, a whole class had once stood. There was nothing but Heartless with their beady eyes and unnatural wriggling.

Rarity broke away. The thought of Sweetie Belle caught up in this mess put enough weight on her to collapse.

“Rarity.”

She whined as though stricken. Pinkie had her brow furrowed. If she was shaken by the invasion, she didn’t show it.

“Make me an opening.”

“Do not joke about this,” Rarity hissed. She eyed the barrier. It still reached all around them in a dome. What classmates they could save were huddled at the center. “There are Heartless, if you cannot tell.”

“I know,” Pinkie said. Her eyes flicked to her feet.

There was a different feel to her. Rarity knew she never wore a mask around her friends. She stuck to being herself, even at times when she was a total wreck or brimming with happiness. To have her so focused ushered another stone in Rarity. Pinkie had taken up something else.

“I’m going to blow them all up.”

Rarity faltered. A lump formed her throat, and she couldn’t swallow for what felt like minutes. Having Heartless a yard away from them, people they knew and walked the halls with were gone, and Pinkie wanted revenge. No doubt with pastries.

Rarity reviled the humor at that thought.

“You are going nowhere near them,” Rarity said. Mustering the courage to say that put a bad taste in her mouth. Fighting the Heartless again wasn’t the hard part. It was knowing lives were lost, while a host of others were at stake. Her friends included.

Pinkie clutched her arms and turned away before sliding down to the floor. She hugged her legs as her chin rested on her knees. Rarity sighed. As much as she wanted to break down the barrier and charge through, find Sweetie Belle, and save the school, she couldn’t risk it.

It was up to the other girls.

Twilight flung a Heartless to the double doors. It burst through and dissipated as soon as it hit the floor. Rainbow Dash rushed forward into the next room. Her fists were raised, turning in every direction, before sagging her body. A room was empty for once.

“All clear?” Spike asked, taking careful steps into the room.

“I’m not fighting, am I?” Rainbow snarked. Her eyes darted around, just in case.

The lobby was untouched. There was no damage to the trophy cases, no tear in the banners, nor a single crack in the flooring. The windows and doors to the front lawn were pitch black. Not the same as Heartless blocking every semblance of an exit, but like ink painted over the glass.

“That can’t be good,” Twilight said. She stepped out of the hall like a timid fawn.

“Nothing’s been good,” Rainbow snapped, gesturing to her. “Every room Spike claims Sunset is in has been filled with monsters.”

“Hey, I’m trying!” Spike barked. “If you don’t like it, you can zip off and find them yourself.”

“Spike!” Twilight scolded, stomping her foot. He flinched and glowered at the blackened windows. Twilight pressed a palm against her head. She was drained. Rainbow could see it in her expression alone. It didn’t help Rainbow really wanted to do what Spike suggested.

She set her hands on her hips and tapped her toe. The more she thought about it, the more tempting it became.

But it ached to go through with it.

“Wait,” Spike said, nose lifted into the air. He sniffed, took a step towards Rainbow, and blinked. “They’re… really close by.”

Twilight raised a brow, “How close?”

The top balcony exploded. The railing split apart and rained down to the floor below. Rainbow covered her head, squinting past the fragments to see a locker door fly overhead and lodge into the opposite wall.

“Applejack, don’t-!”

Sunset’s voice clicked in Rainbow. She didn’t have time to act on it. Applejack leapt off the balcony, someone tucked underneath her arm. Her other hand kept her hat in place. She landed in a crouch, then stood tall, stoic with shoulders back. It was a stance Rainbow hadn’t seen for a long time. Applejack pierced each person with sharp eyes.

“Please put me down.”

Applejack winced and managed a smile that was painful to look at. She fumbled her balance before hefting Sunset upright. Unlike Applejack, Sunset had a stance Rainbow had seen plenty of times. Her head was lowered, eyes unfocused, and her legs teetered.

“Never again,” she muttered, holding out her hand. Twilight hurried over with a range of emotions. “It’s not funny, Sora.”

Rainbow flicked her gaze to where Sunset glared. It was barren of anyone, as usual, but she still narrowed her eyes. Sora stood there, and it irked her.

Twilight took a hold of Sunset. She tensed as Twilight searched her up and down.

“I’m fine, Twilight,” Sunset said, straining a smile. “Applejack is too. We had a run in with a Heartless that can explode.” Sunset grimaced. “Hope it’s the last one.”

Twilight sighed. She slipped her glasses off to rub her eye, “I hate this whole mess.”

“If that ain’t an understatement,” Applejack grumbled. Her hands loosened and tightened. “We still haven’t seen hair nor hide of the others.”

Rainbow growled, “Then let’s not wait for more Heartless. Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Sunset said, palm held out. Her head was tilted to the side. Twilight stared into space, attentive. Rainbow had a guess what they were doing, but it didn’t alleviate her urge to scream at them.

“I had the same thought,” Twilight said. She brought a hand to her chin. “How are we going to do it now? We can’t waste time.”

“Do what?” Rainbow snapped. “Quit leaving us in the dark.”

“I’m with RD on this one,” Applejack chimed in. Her hands adjusted her hat. A nervous tic that Rainbow didn’t like to see. “Besides our friends bein’ out in the mud, the school is losin’ folks left and right.”

“And we need you guys to see Sora,” Sunset said. She pursed her lips before rubbing the back of her neck. “We have a theory that if all of us can see him, he’ll come back. Fully. Complete.”

“And I said before,” Applejack said, shaking her head. “We ain’t got time. Let’s handle this ourselves.”

“Loyalty and honesty,” Twilight said. Rainbow had to remember Sora was still around. The more Twilight and Sunset spoke to him, the more Rainbow wanted to take off to find the others.

Sunset bit her thumbnail, and lifted her gaze every so often. Twilight leaned back and forth, ponytail swaying. A far away crash echoed into the lobby.

Rainbow jerked her head, paced to the side, and dug her nails into her palm. Her blood boiled, but her heart tugged at her. Away from the group, away from the planning. She was back at the lunch table waiting for who-knows-what.

Rainbow whipped around, her lungs burning to yell. But Sora was there.

It had to be Sora. She didn’t recognize him, he appeared out of nowhere, and he had the qualities Sunset had described to her. His hand clutched a giant key. The blade was silver, and the guard gold. The keyblade. Rainbow had to take a second to look at him. Not judge his aptitude, nor demand why she could see him, just look at him.

There was a terse grunt from him. His jaw shifted to grind his teeth together. The eyes were two blue marbles, glassy and still. They were expressive enough to play a host of turmoil in his expression. More so than the girls. She recalled her misgivings of him, how he knew so much and the big coincidence with him and the Heartless. But he was a guy. An emotional guy at that.

Sora swallowed and turned to scan the room. When he landed on Rainbow, he jerked before a goofy grin spread across his face.

The ground shook hard enough to knock Rainbow down on her hip. The others caught themselves. A trophy case rattled before tilting over and smashing onto the floor. The contents shattered and banged together until the shaking stopped.

“That was worse than the last one!”

“Where do they come from?”

“It’s gotta be the Heartless.”

Rainbow hurried to her feet and drew back to Sora. Or to the blank spot where he once stood. His brimming smile was etched in her mind. She shook her head, but it didn’t go away. To see him glowing. In this chaos. For her sake.

“Hey, Sunset,” Rainbow called, refusing to look away. “You trust Sora, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied as though there was no alternative. “I mean, he could stand to make better decisions in his life.”

There was a short pause as her lips curled into a smile. She leaned on one foot to dodge and stifled a snicker. It was upbeat. Despite the situation, despite what they had lost so far, Sora had that effect on her.

“T-then I trust Sora too,” Rainbow announced. Her breath hitched, and she wanted to take it back. The looks everyone threw at her didn’t ease matters. “Come on, it’s not that big a deal.”

Spike smirked, “You like him.”

“Shut up!” Rainbow was proud to not feel the slightest flicker of heat in her cheeks.

Sunset loosened. There was still an unwavering focus to her, undeterred, but she breathed easier. Twilight rested a hand to her chest and sighed. Applejack… was missing.

Rainbow turned to spot her at the front door. Her feet were squared, lifting her fist to the glass. She rapped her knuckles against it twice.

The darkness receded.

Maleficent towered on the other side.

A blast of green fire shattered the glass into beads. It sent Applejack flying, limbs flailing, before landing in a heap. A pained groan escaped her, writhing.

Rainbow was down next to her before she could think. Cuts were sprinkled over the forearms and legs. Applejack had braced her head before the explosion. She still gritted her teeth, cradled her chest, and failed to hide her shaking.

“Bothersome.”

Maleficent sauntered down the steps to the old foundation at the front of the school. A behemoth of tendrils grew atop it, twisting together into a trunk, squirming and pulsating. A flower drained of color bloomed with a jagged mouth, and uneven stitches held pointed petals. Its bug eyes bored straight through Rainbow.

Maleficent raised her arms out. Her staff glowed green, “Hear me, Heartless! Reach your roots far and wide. Gain me entrance to this other world.”

An ebony aura shimmered around the Heartless as the pedals spun around its face. Another quake broke out. Tendrils burst from the floor and weaved along the nooks. More orbs sprouted along them. Shadows rained down, and Rainbow hefted Applejack out of the way of one. It sunk its claws into the floor and ripped them out.

“What were you doing?!” Rainbow hissed. Different Heartless mingled within the horde of Shadows. Sweat broke out over her brow.

“I was gettin’ antsy,” Applejack said, straining to stand. Rainbow locked her elbow with hers and pulled her up. “Thought I saw someone behind that there ink.”

“And it was Maleficent,” Sunset groaned. She took a hold of Applejack’s shoulder, scrutinizing her arms and legs, then whipped back behind her. The Heartless closed in. “We need a new plan. Right now!”

Rainbow rushed past her and knocked a line of Shadows with a sweeping kick. The lobby drowned in Heartless. Even with her speed, it would take time to whittle them down. Her insides tightened.

“Okay, I know what to do,” Sunset said, “but you have to help the others!”

Rainbow glanced back. Sora backed away, face scrunched up.

“I promised-”

“You’re going to have to break your promise,” Sunset threw her arms out. “Just go!”

Sora hesitated.

Rainbow zipped to Sunset to push back a Shadow creeping behind her.

There was an intense stare from Sunset. It drew Rainbow Dash in as much as Sora.

“You can make a difference, Sora.”

Sora’s eyes quivered. He couldn’t meet her gaze. The Heartless closed in, even as Twilight tossed tons of them away. Giving a curt nod, Sora rested his keyblade along his shoulders and booked it for the closest hallway.

He twisted around, still backing away, but with a hard glare, “You can too, Sunset!”

His voice was young. A hint of childness but with a grasp of the gravity of the situation. Rainbow surprised herself with that thought.

And he blinked out of existence. Rainbow flashed out of the way of a leaping Shadow. Twilight kept the swarm in check. Applejack destroyed any that got too close.

“He’s finding the others,” Sunset relayed. She heaved a fragment of railing and nailed a Shadow in the face. Her eyes were charged, and her chest swelled. “Applejack, we’re dealing with Maleficent. Sora’s going to save your sister, the others, everyone!”

“As a ghost!?” she balked. Rainbow shivered and hoped she didn’t sound like that earlier.

Sunset growled. Her next throw had a lot more force to it.

“He’ll do it!” Sunset yelled. “You have to trust he’s being honest. Like I do.”

“Honest...?” Applejack blanked, lowering her fists a tad before socking another Heartless. Her expression dipped in thought before it hiked up to a smirk brimming with that zeal Rainbow knew her for. “I get it now.”

Rainbow scrunched her face. A quick explanation would go a long way. Given their position, she didn’t bring it up. She had her friend’s backs, even Sora’s. They would take out Maleficent, Sora would help the others. The usual save the world stuff.

Fluttershy tightened her hold of her backpack. Her teeth chattered, her body shook, and every movement from behind the desk had her flinch and clench her eyes shut. The one thought running through her was to not panic.

“Are they ever going to leave?” Scootaloo whispered. Fluttershy risked a peak. Sweetie Belle edged out of the cover of the desk. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom sat close by. A handful of seconds passed. Fluttershy held her breath. The monsters might as well pop up to get the scare over with. Sweetie Belle dipped back in with a shake of her head.

“Doesn’t look like it,” she said, plopping down. Despite their hush, they were far too loud for Fluttershy.

Scootaloo huffed and crossed her arms, “That’s just great.”

“Girls,” Ms. Cheerilee spat. She tempered herself with a deep breath. Her fingers rubbed the book she held aloft like a makeshift weapon before shifting closer. “This is no place to talk. Stay low and stay quiet.”

“But we can’t stay here forever,” Apple Bloom said. Her hands were folded together, and she stared at them with intent. “I know my sister’ll find us, but shouldn’t we find a way out?”

“Nah, Rainbow Dash will get here in no time,” Scootaloo waved off. “She kicked those monsters butts a few days ago. This’ll be no different!”

“Quiet!” Sweetie Belle hissed, a finger raised to her lips.

Fluttershy stewed in her own thoughts. The thoughts of how the school shook, and the library doors burst open, and how they were the only ones to hide, and how everyone else was gone. Her arms tightened even more around her backpack, and it stirred, shifting around. She squeaked and kept it as still as possible.

“What’s that?” Scootaloo asked. Fluttershy swallowed. Her backpack still moved about until the zipper unfastened and Stitch popped his head out. He blinked away his sleepiness, and his ears drooped like a bunny’s. Fluttershy froze, ignoring the stares from the others by focusing on Stitch as he stretched and yawned. She blinked at the notch in one of his ears, and couldn’t fathom why it bothered her out of the blue.

“Is that one of those monsters?” Sweetie Belle asked. Fluttershy opened her mouth but nothing came out. She drummed her fingers against the fabric of her bag. Stitch grunted and studied Sweetie Belle before his gaze drifted to Apple Bloom.

“He’s so... fluffy,” she said, quirking her head. Stitch hummed with a pleased smile. It fell as soon as he sniffed. His head twitched as he followed his nose before growling and struggling out of the backpack. Fluttershly clamped her arms around him, and he reached out with a few coarse words.

“Y-you can’t fight them,” Fluttershy said. The texts from Rainbow Dash were scary enough. Dark beings after people’s hearts. Heartless. It was bad enough her friends’ whereabouts were up in the air - her heart hurt at their fate. If there was one thing she could do, it was keep Stitch safe.

“Naga-takabah, Heartless,” he said, bouncing in place and jabbing a finger to the desk. “Stitch fight.”

“It can talk too,” Sweetie Belle said in a hush.

Ms. Cheerilee stifled a groan. Her book knocked against her forehead. She spoke but her words were muffled.

“They’re dangerous,” Fluttershy said. She set a hand on his head and shoved him back into the backpack. Her stomach twisted. It was an uncomfortable space, and she didn’t make it easier for him. “Please, I don’t want you hurt.”

“Gaba ika tasoopa!?” Stitch cried out. “Meega nala kweesta!”

“No, be quiet!” Cheerilee dropped her book and threw herself over to cover Stitch’s mouth. He stopped, stock still, before sliding his tongue out and lathering her hands in slime. She recoiled, cringed, and did everything she could not to shriek. A small squeak still slipped out when a Heartless emerged from behind the desk.

Its tentacles danced around its bulbous head, its yellow eyes were cute and terrifying, and its claws dug into the wood to clamber on. Something in Fluttershy died. Her voice or survival instinct. Their eyes met, and all feeling faded.

“Cowabunga!” Stitch yelled. He launched himself at the Heartless, screaming all the while, and they toppled back into the library.

A fire flashed inside Fluttershy. She bolted up to grab him and the fire was snuffed in ice. The library was stained in black and spotted with those unnatural yellow orbs which grew as more Heartless faced her. The gut-wrenching feeling returned in force.

Stitch tossed the Heartless away and reached to his sides before thrusting two finger guns at them. He checked his paws with a confused grunt.

Fluttershy was no stranger to facing danger, though she would prefer to avoid it. Yet the air was potent, drained, as though the Heartless sapped away her will. Her arms were rigid boards at the side of her dress. Her lungs couldn’t draw breath. Even the voices of the others were drawn out echoes.

Then Stitch hopped back onto the desk, hunched and ready to bite at any monster within range. Fluttershy felt her breath gradually return, small pants that escalated to deep-seated gasps, until she was hyper aware of her surroundings. The knocked over bookcases with paper and covers scattered around. The broken horse bust and smashed computer monitors. The unhinged doors were cracked and shattered.

Sora skidded to a halt within the frame, breathless. Fluttershy did a double take.

“Fluttershy, Stitch!” he brightened.

“Told you I could find them.”

Spike glared up from Sora’s shoes, and Sora waved him off.

“We were heading in the opposite direction,” he said. Fluttershy was on a cloud, floating away from the danger. Not because Sora held his keyblade at the ready to defend them. Not because Spike could see him, which meant he was whole.

His smile and snark returned that hope the Heartless had taken.

Sora rushed forward and swung his keyblade. The Shadows along the desk were destroyed, and his smile widened.

“Sunset was right,” he said in awe. His hand clenched over his chest. “Okay, time to do my part.”

Stitch leapt onto his head, laughing with more glee than Fluttershy had seen from him. It was enough for Sora to tip over, holding out his leg to keep his balance.

“Hey, easy, we have work to do,” Sora said with a lopsided grin.

Stitch nodded, “Ih.”

A Shadow pounced, but Sora blocked it, knocking it onto its back.

“You got your blasters?”

“Naga.”

“Ukulele?”

“Naga.”

Sora pulled his eyes up, “Anything?”

Another block from an attacking Shadow, followed by a counter attack to give him space. Their time was slim. Fluttershy clenched the desk to steady herself.

Stitch hummed, rubbing his chin, before lighting up, “Fluttershy!”

“Hey, that’s something!” Sora said. He glanced back, tripping Stitch to flop onto his belly. It was a ridiculous sight, added with Sora’s eagerness and erratic movements. “Fluttershy, you watch Stitch’s back, got it?”

She almost hid behind her hair. She was good with animals, but Stitch wasn’t another animal. Not to mention they had plenty of experience with battle. There wasn’t a lot she could contribute. It was a sound reason, though Sora charged into the Heartless before she had the chance to organize a response.

Light glowed along his keyblade, and he jabbed it upward. A tornado blew through the library. Heartless and books were pulled and whirled around. Sora jumped and hit every Shadow he passed. With a spin, he landed at the center, and sprung back up.

A blue aura enveloped him, particles drifting off, and he crashed back down with his keyblade. The wind slowed and dissipated. Heartless dropped down. The library was much clearer than before.

Heartless flanked Sora on either side and closed in.

“Stitch, left,” Fluttershy stammered. It escaped her. Her heart leapt into her throat.

Stitch snatched the Heartless, which swiped uselessly at the air, before smashing it down. The shockwave sent the other Heartless reeling. Sora spun around in a wide sweep to take out the rest.

His legs pushed off to strike the next one.

“This is somethin’ else,” Apple Bloom said, almost lost in the battle. Fluttershy spared a glance. She, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo stood with eyes wide, hair fluttering every so often. Ms. Cheerilee ushered them to remain behind the desk, but they didn’t even tilt their head to her.

A loud crash brought Fluttershy back to the fight with a wince. A hulking Heartless occupied a good portion of the library. It’s shoulders were boulders, and its axe was bigger. It stooped over Sora, pushing itself out of the dark puddle on the floor.

“Rock Troll,” Sora whispered. “Not good.”

Fluttershy had a thousand guesses why it wasn’t good, and she feared the worst of them.

The Troll lugged his axe downward. Sora blocked it, moved to strike, and was blindsided by another swing.

He caught himself by the desk, rolling his arm in its socket. Stitch was no longer on his head.

“He can even take a hit,” Scootaloo squeed. “I can’t believe Rainbow Dash is missing this!”

A blue blur broke Fluttershy away from them. Stitch stood on the balcony railing on the second floor, growling at a Heartless imitating an oil lamp. It hobbled around on spindly legs, and its core glowed an irritating orange. It wobbled to Stitch who took careful steps back, hackles raised.

It’s core expanded before it exploded, lightning shooting off in different directions.

Stitch yelled as he plunged back to ground level. His head bopped a Heartless before he slid the rest of the way with a groan.

“Stitch!” Fluttershy called, a hand over her mouth.

Sora dodged another strike from the Rock Troll and beelined for Stitch. He scooped his disoriented form and jumped to the wall. His body showcased that blue aura and he shot through the swarm of Shadows to step back to the desk.

“I’m okay,” Stitch said. Sora eased him onto the counter. “I’m fluffy.”

“Guess we’re both a little rusty,” Sora said. His tone had a hint of regret, but his smile persisted. It didn’t ease Fluttershy. “Need a new plan.”

The exploding Heartless sprung to mind, and Fluttershy swallowed, “M-maybe the, uh…”

“Lampoom!” Sweetie Belle cried, pointing to the Heartless creeping over.

“Lampoom?” Scootaloo and Apple Bloom repeated.

“Use-it-to-fight-the-troll!” Fluttershy rolled off her tongue. Sora glanced to her with a furrowed brow before aiming his keyblade at the Heartless. A fireball sailed off and the Heartless blew up as soon as it made contact. It took a good chunk of Shadows with it.

“Uh, mind saying that again?” Sora asked. His smile hid his grimace well, but not well enough.

Stitch clapped his paws together, cackling and bouncing in place, before clamoring back to his post on Sora. He pointed to another Lampoom, imitated a throw, then made an explosion noise.

“Oh, that’s what Fluttershy said!” Sora said. He gave her a thumbs up. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Behind you!” she yelled. It was more natural than before. Stitch knocked back the Shadow. Sora whipped around and lashed out at another. The Rock Troll lumpered closer with ax overhead.

Sora and Stitch split as the ax cleaved into the floor. It was inches away from the desk.

Sora fired a crystal that cooled the air. It broke apart against the Rock troll, freezing over in a white mist. It lashed out with a horizontal swing that Sora leapt over.

Fluttershy watched Stitch like a hawk. Where he was going and what was around him. He hopped back and forth to avoid the Shadows.

A monkey-like Heartless swooped in from the wall.

“Up and behind!” she called.

Stitch lurched back as the monkey landed where he once stood. He took its tail and flung it at another monkey.

Sora soared through the air to slice both of them.

He flipped and shot a fireball at another monkey. A boulder barrelled at him, and he dodge rolled out of the way.

Another boulder sailed over Fluttershy. She ducked under the desk. It smashed against the wall, peppering the area with pebbles.

The Rock Troll smashed its axe into the balcony. Wood splintered and cracked, fragments bursting apart. Stitch balled himself up and hopped over the blade of the axe, and rolled the rest of the way until he came upon another Lampoom.

It skittered after Stitch who dove underneath and picked it up. Its spider legs spasmed to grab a solid surface. Its core hummed and expanded. Stitch hurried to the edge of the balcony. The Stone Troll pulled back its axe for another swing, but Stitch flung the Lampoom. It exploded just before contact and knocked the Rock Troll to the floor.

Sora was on it in a second. Each swing of his keyblade had weight and picked apart the Rock Troll’s skin. He backflipped away. Another Lampoom flew in and exploded to send the Rock troll sliding to the wall. Bookshelves broke apart as what few books remained trickled onto the floor.

A Lampoom crept in the shadows of the balcony.

“There’s one there!” Fluttershy called out. Stitch climbed to the underside and landed atop it.

The Lampoom jumped around to throw him off, but Stitch held strong and rode it like a mechanical bull.

“Yee-haw!” he cried. His laughing was obnoxious and loud. Every Shadow that attacked was reflected back by the Lampoom’s flailing.

Fluttershy felt her lips edge upwards. Stitch was in his element.

The core expanded, electricity crackled, and Stitch whipped his head upwards.

“Sora!” he yelled, spinning and grabbing the Heartless to hold it overhead. His toss sent it tumbling into the air. Before it could plunge back down, Sora rocketed towards it like he was flying. His keyblade glowed and shook in his grip. He held it back and batted the Lampoom at the struggling Rock Troll.

The blast billowed in a rage of fire and electricity. A shockwave rattled the school, rivaling the quakes earlier. The girls hid underneath the desk. Mrs. Cheerilee crouched next to them. Fluttershy ducked down and squinted through the dust kicking up.

Rubble crumbled and fell from their bearings. The dome glass cracked and broke apart in some spots. Metal whined and wood creaked. All the while Fluttershy’s heart hammered against her chest.

Then it settled. The cloud of dust lingered and shrouded the library.

Her breath hitched, and she coughed. Her trembling arms carried her around the desk. Every step filled her guts with lead. She could have done something to avoid this. Contributed more or gave better call outs.

A silhouette emerged and Fluttershy jumped. The spiky hair gave away the person, and Sora limped into view. His scowl was clear. One arm clutched the other, and his body sagged. He brightened when he caught Fluttershy. She glanced to every part of him to find no sign of injury.

“We did it,” Sora said, holding up a fist as though he was flexing. Fluttershy shrunk down, still staring at the other arm that hung limply. “Don’t worry about me. One cure spell and I’ll be good to go.”

Fluttershy bit her tongue to stem her concern. The way Sora fought proved his expertise. She turned every which way for Stitch. He shuffled between Sora’s legs and plopped comfortably in between them like it was a sofa.

Sora grunted. He lifted his keyblade into the air, “Heal!”

A green aura danced in a circle and a flower bloomed overhead. It caressed her skin, relieving what little aches she had. The minty scent tickled her nose, and she sniffled. Sora grinned and took a breath of air. His arm stretched out, and he tested his fingers before clenching them.

The last of the particles faded, and all that had happened rushed through Fluttershy.

“You’re…” she whispered, and he perked his head, “amazing.”

Sora grinned at his shoes. It infected Fluttershy and warmed her heart.

“Gotta say,” Spike spoke up, walking up to them. His bitter glower worked over the wreckage. “I’m glad I’m not a Heartless.”

“Not done yet,” Sora said. His voice was strained, and yet again, it contrasted his same old smile. Fluttershy held her hands.

“Oh yeah!” Spike said, tapping Fluttershy’s shin. “Everyone is accounted for except for Rarity and Pinkie Pie.”

A great load was lifted from Fluttershy, and her breath eased into a sigh.

“T-that’s good,” she said. Her lips pursed. She had to give them something. Anything to make up for cowering behind a desk. A faint memory came to surface, and she jerked. “I-I know they were in the gym during lunch today.”

Sora hummed and nodded, “Guess I’m heading there then.”

“If you knew the way,” Spike said. He stuck his chin up with a paw laid to his chest. “I can lead you there.”

“And get lost again?” Sora remarked, crossing his arms.

“Okay, so my nose isn’t up to par today,” Spike huffed, rolling his eyes “But I know where the gym is! That’s more than you can say.”

“Okay, okay,” Sora relented, holding up a hand. A sly smirk spread across his face. “Oh, and Fluttershy?”

She stood to attention. A part of her deep inside hopped he didn’t want her to fight. A fresh wave of panic swept through her.

“Sunset and the others are in the lobby,” he said. “You should meet up with them there.”

They could pony up. Fluttershy berated herself for forgetting that ability of theirs. A hand clutched the geode around her neck. The ability to talk to animals didn’t do much. Her worries popped up like weeds.

“You guys stay here,” Spike said. The others still stood behind the desk. The three youngest were in awe with a twinkle in their eyes. Mrs. Cheerilee held herself with a wary gaze. “There shouldn’t be anymore Heartless here, since Sora worked his magic.” He thought about that before raising a brow to Sora. “It should be safe, right?”

“For now,” Sora said, nudging Stitch off his shoes, “but not for long. We need to hurry.”

“Leading the way!” Spike said, taking off with Sora behind him. Fluttershy wanted to say something, but it died in her throat. It wouldn’t matter anyway.

“Watch out for Fluttershy, Stitch!” Sora called back and was through the doors and out of sight.

“Okie-taka,” Stitch muttered with an idle wave.

So much happened in the span of minutes, and everyone knew what to do. Even Sora had given her a way to help. She wanted to do more than follow directions. Her hands brushed through her hair at the memory of those malicious, yellow eyes watching her.

Maybe another time.

Author's Note

Huge apologies for the long wait. It took a while to get the ball rolling, but I hope to keep the momentum. Thanks for your patience.

Chapter 9: To Slam a Door Shut

Sora tightened the grip on his keyblade.

The gym brimmed with Heartless. Shadows crawled along the floor and walls, tumbling over one another. Three Rock Trolls took up a large portion of the room. Their hulking frames waded through the sea of darkness in mindless circles. To think Pinkie and Rarity were stuck there had him frozen to the spot.

His eyes wandered. The Heartless milled from one point to another. One would pass him by, and another would look to him before moving along. It reminded him of Halloween Town.

A Rock Troll shifted, and a white dome shined through. Sora caught glimpses of movement inside. His heart lifted and he made to move. Spike pawed at his leg.

“Mind giving me a lift?” he asked. Sora dropped his face with a raised brow. Spike groaned. “Those things are everywhere. No way am I getting lost in there when they go berserk.”

Sora tilted his head back and forth before nodding, “All right.”

He dismissed his keyblade and scooped him up. Spike adjusted himself until he was comfortable, sighing in content.

“No where safer than with the guy who can tear through monsters.”

Sora eyed him before edging his way into the swarm of Shadows. Every step was careful. His legs bumped and brushed aside Shadows. It sent a sharp jolt through him each time. Whatever had them so passive could change in an instant.

Within the dome, Rarity stood with arms held out. Sweat dripped off her, eyes clamped shut. The strain to keep the shield up ate away at her. Her hair had locks jut out, her breaths were steep, and her frame shook. The other students huddled together at the center, so frightened they didn’t dare move. One perked her head and pointed to Sora. A few joined in to stare, while others refused to glance outside the barrier.

Sora frowned deeper. Pinkie Pie was missing.

“Rarity!” Spike called before wincing. The Heartless paid them no mind. Sora released his breath. Clearing his throat, Spike spoke softer. “Glad you’re safe and sound.”

Rarity opened one eye and sagged her body, “By the stars, you are real.”

“Sora is too,” Spike said, jerking his head back to him.

Rarity blinked, looking between the two before gasping.

“You’re holding Spike!” Rarity said. “So Sunset brought you back?”

“You all did, technically,” Sora said. His eyes traced over the other students. They muttered amongst each other, casting wary gazes his way. He recalled some from traveling in the halls before steeling himself. “Where’s Pinkie Pie?”

“Oh, she’s right…” Rarity turned her head over her shoulder. There was a pause before she glanced to and fro, her brow furrowed. “Em, she was right there.”

“So she’s okay?”

“I would have to say so,” Rarity said. She hummed, focusing on a spot at her feet. “She was in here with everyone else. But knowing her… she has her ways.”

“Her ways?”

Rarity shook her head, “Never mind that. What in the world is all this?!”

“Maleficent attacked,” Spike said. Rarity scoffed, her fingers working over her palms. “Sunset and the others are in the lobby. We’re here to get you guys to pony up.”

Sora rolled that last two words in his head. He had heard the phrase before.

“It is for the best Pinkie and I regroup with them,” Rarity nodded. She bite her lip. “Though I’ve no idea what came over the Heartless here. One moment they’re swarming the room, taking… hearts. The next they mingle and populate like rats!”

“So you don’t know either, huh?” Sora asked. Rarity shook her head. He dipped his chin before facing the vines. Like most of the school, they snaked along the walls and ceiling. The pustules growing out of them spawned a Shadow that plumated and plopped to the floor. The vines resembled the Heartless plant at the front of the school.

“I think I have an idea,” Sora said. He pointed to the vines. “If I can take care of those dark orbs, we can clean up the rest of the Heartless.”

Rarity sputtered. “Shouldn’t our concern be to get everyone out of the gym first? It’s not safe here anymore.”

“I’m not sure it’s safe anywhere,” Spike stated. “Better to have him use his fancy key skills. You know, whack ‘em around until it is safe.”

“Darling!” Rarity shouted. A wave of anguish passed over her before taking deep breaths to calm it. “Lives are at risk, and I don’t believe I can hold this forever.”

“That’s even more reason to take care of them now,” Sora said, clutching his fist. His mind flashed back to the library. How it proved he wasn’t in his element. Nowhere near as powerful as he was against Xehanort.

Rarity studied him over a deep seated glare. It wasn’t malicious, but it made Sora shift his weight. He didn’t have a clue what she was searching for. His lack of ability, perhaps, but to tell them wouldn’t end well. They needed all the hope they could muster.

Her face twisted and her lips pursed. Another surge of pain wracked her before she shivered.

“It’s party time!”

The voice was cheerful, enthusiastic, and for a brief second, Sora had thought it came from Rarity. The two blanked before their gaze drifted to Pinkie Pie standing atop the dome. Her features glowed under its white hue.

Rarity scrunched her nose and squinted. Sora found his smile again, pumping his fist.

“Uh, why does she have a cupcake?” Spike asked, his voice wavering.

Rarity cringed, “Don’t tell me she’s-”

“Taste cupcakes, meanies!”

And she set the cupcake free with a dainty twirl. It dropped like a stone, leaving a pink trail in its wake. Its impact created a pocket of destruction. Heartless burst into black dust, soot caked the laminate flooring, and the aroma of sweets swept over Sora.

That fulfilling feeling of fighting by friends swelled inside him.

Heartless halted in their menial wandering to face the group. Too many yellow orbs to count. Sora took it as a challenge.

“No choice now,” he said. He shifted Spike to sit in his left arm, and with a flourish, summoned his keyblade in a flash. The Shadows crept up to him.

“Wait, what are you-?”

Sora held his keyblade overhead.

“Thunder!”

A cascade of lightning rained down around him. Every strike took a good portion of Heartless with it. A few bolts hit the barrier, but they dissipated without a scratch. A Heartless lunged. Sora slide to the side, his keyblade already back over his head.

More lighting crashed over the surrounding Shadows. Their numbers thinned, but they persisted after Sora. There was a subtle tingle in his palm. A feeling he had grown accustomed to and hadn’t felt for a while. He smirked at the Heartless, tensing his legs.

Spike ruffled his fur against him, “Maybe set me down before-”

He swallowed his words when Sora sprung into the air. His body spun around and ended with the keyblade pointed to the ceiling.

“Try this!” he cried. Thin columns of light converged onto his keyblade. Their connection blinded Sora in a roar of thunder. A single lighting bolt ravaged the Heartless around him. It came and went in an instant, but the ground cracked under the force. By the time Sora landed, the Heartless were nowhere near the dome.

“Now that’s a light show!” Pinkie cheered. She tossed a single cupcake at the last lurking Shadow.

The orbs of darkness spewed more Shadows. They would refill the gym soon enough.

Sora made to run, but a paw flailed in front of him. Spike was singed from ear to tail, smoke billowed from the top of his head. His eyes rolled around his sockets. Sora winced.

“I’ll sit out the next battle, thanks,” Spike mumbled. It was the first time Sora had used magic while holding a dog. His insides squirmed and screamed at him to not do it again.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he chuckled. He set Spike down, and he stumbled his way to the dome before plopping in front of the barrier. Rarity was far more worn than before. She had collapsed to her knees. Her arms lowered to her head. Sora jerked back, frantic with worry, and made to speak.

A cupcake streaked past him and blasted a Shadow. They dotted the room. There was no stop to them. The Rock Trolls affixed their axes to their faces. A dark aura enwreathed them. A frantic look around showed no Lampooms to break through their armor.

“You look lost,” Pinkie noted, poking his cheek. Sora jumped back to rub where she had touched him. Her eyes were narrowed, and had a grin to rival his own from earlier. “Fret not. Explosive cupcakes will reveal the way.”

Reveal the way…

Sora beamed. That surge of hope returned.

“Pinkie, I need to break down their masks.”

Pinkie admired her cupcake, hopping in place. “Oh, I’m so nervouscited.”

Sora nodded. He offered his hand which she took with frivor. A quick spin with her smacked the surrounding Shadows, and with a toss, Sora hurled Pinkie into the air. His legs pushed off to follow. Pinkie flipped and spilled a number of cupcakes out of nowhere.

Sora swatted them around the gym, and they rained down like Donald’s meteors. Each blast knocked the Rock Trolls off balance. One careened across the gym with its mask torn off. It narrowly missed Rarity and her dome.

Sora and Pinkie landed into a crouch before springing back up with a high five. A series of rocks sailed past them. Pinkie cried out when she fell flat to the floor. Sora got the brunt of the attack. He kept his footing until the barrage ended. The soreness from the library took its toll.

All that ran through his mind was he had handled worse.

Grinding his teeth, he beelined for the closest Rock Troll. Pinkie called back to him. A fist slammed into his side, lifting him off his feet and sliding across the floor. His muscles cried to rest, but he pushed himself back up. A pink explosion erupted beside him. It flooded his nose with sugar.

“Those oversized action figures are a lot more sturdy than I gave them credit for.”

Pinkie teetered on her feet beside him with a reassuring smile. In her hand was a cupcake with a swirl of gray and red frosting. He gawked at it, as though the gears in his head had jammed. His eyes pulled back up to Pinkie Pie, who winked at him.

“Look sharp!” she said before winding up her arm and pitching the cupcake at an incoming Rock Troll. Bits of cupcake detonated to catch the Shadows underneath.

It occured to Sora he hadn’t planned out his attacks. Watching the Heartless approach, some jerking back and forth, he took a deep breath. It blew away his frustration. He had to strategize.

“Pinkie,” Sora said, voice level and acute. She straightened herself, her brows furrowing. “Stick to destroying their masks.”

It clicked in his head. What to do, how to do it. His time as a pseudo-ghost had him neglect his practices. He glanced to his keyblade before nodding to Pinkie Pie.

She nodded back and hurried to the side, away from the Shadows. Sora held his keyblade in both hands. The Heartless closed in and pounced. A single swing obliterated them, and he pushed forward.

His keyblade led the way. Whenever he swung, he allowed the momentum to pull him to another set of Heartless. His strikes had him skid across the room. Each swing had him avoid their claws. It maintained the growing Heartless, kept them at bay.

He could keep it up. For everyone’s sake. His keyblade hummed so low only he could hear it.

Another swing cut through a Powerwild. A chime resonated from his keyblade. His nerves flared. A Rock Troll charged at him, trampling over every Shadow in its way. Cupcakes punted at his side, but it didn’t deter it.

Sora twirled the keyblade in the air. His mind reached out for his keyblade alongside his hand to catch it again in front of him. Light flooded through his body. His arms pulled back as the air shattered around him. Beads of light ate at his clothes to change its colors from gray and red to a familiar black.

The Rock Troll loomed over him. Sora was on it in a blink of an eye, keyblade swinging so fast it was a blur. It threw a punch, but Sora batted it away before finishing with three heavy strikes. The last of which sliced through to vanquish it. A crystallized heart floated away.

“Now I’m not sure if you’re showing off or not,” Pinkie said. Sora whipped his head to her. She had her narrowed eyes trained to his. He gave a toothy grin before dodge rolling away from a Shadow.

The other two Rock Trolls had their masks blown off. Sora smashed through the remaining Heartless as he made his way to them. There was another chime from his keyblade. Jumping in between them, each going in with their axe, Sora rocketed to one Rock Troll with his keyblade before launching to the other. His actions looped, piercing each rock troll like a bullet. A final surge tore through them. Their forms evaporated into a black mist.

Touching the ground had him topple over. The soreness from earlier had escalated to pure pain. Every shift stung at him.

“Sora, the spewers!” Pinkie cried. She waved to the vines that still spawned more Shadows. Sora had to suppress a groan.

He used his keyblade for support to push himself back to his feet. They almost gave out under him, but he readied his keyblade again.

The transformation had sapped his energy. It never did that before.

Two white barriers sailed over him, one after the other. Each cleaved into the two pustules. They vanished under a black fog as the vines withered and turned to dust. The Heartless faded out of existence. There was no struggle, no flare of darkness after they were destroyed. They simply disappeared.

It gnawed at Sora. To see them fade didn’t bode well. He took a step forward, and his leg buckled, sending him to the floor. His lungs burned. He had to focus on breathing. Inhale and exhale. A wave of dizziness passed over him before it cleared up.

“Whoa,” Pinkie said, standing over him. “Are you okay? Should I get a potion or something?”

“Just a little winded,” Sora said with a chuckle, which ended with a big huff. “Took a lot out of me.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Rarity said through heavy breaths. Sora twisted around to find her on her hands and knees. The dome was gone, and her appearance was even more ragged. Her gaze held enough weight that Sora was sure his heart had stopped.

Pinkie hurried back to Rarity and helped her stand. Her legs shook, and every breath had her wobble. She still didn’t pull her eyes away from Sora.

“I said I can’t hold my barrier,” Rarity said, gasping for air. Her voice shuddered. “And what do you do? Use lightning!”

Sora had to tear away from her to stare across the gym. She grinded her teeth, nails digging into her palm.

“But we won, didn’t we?” Pinkie asked. Her quiet voice betrayed her forced smile.

“Don’t paint it as a good thing,” Rarity seethed. Her eyes clamped shut, head shaking. “If I had lost my energy, everyone would have been in danger.”

Pinkie shrunk down. Her bottom lip quivered before biting it.

Rarity rubbed her forehead with her palm.

“I did what I thought was right,” Sora said. Rarity whipped to him, jaw shifting as though wanting to scream. Sora got back on his feet. They were numb, but it was better than the pain. “I’m sorry, okay? Clearing out the Heartless always came first. To make the room safe for them.”

Rarity furrowed her brow, but her eyes lost its flare. Her hands clutched her elbows, leaning on one leg. Pinkie looked between them, mouth hanging open. Sounds escaped her, but they died as soon as they left her.

Spike pawed Rarity’s ankle, specks of soot still spotted his fur, “He’s good at what he does, Rarity. I-I’ve seen him work. If he thinks it was the right way…”

He trailed off. Rarity smoothed over her hair, unable to push down the strands out of place.

“I hate this whole mess,” she said. Spike made himself small.

The words kicked Sora in the gut. Twilight had said the same. Maleficent put these people in danger. It wasn’t unusual, but to hear and see the effects himself forced a burden on his shoulders. Even Radiant Garden hadn’t taken a hit like Canterlot High had.

His hand patted his pockets for an elixir before he remembered he didn’t have anything on him. No items, lots of people gone, his friends fighting for their lives. He thought all of that was behind him after Xehanort.

Rarity made to move, and hunched over with a suppressed cry. Pinkie wrapped an arm around her. They hobbled over with heads low. Spike trailed along.

Sora had to say something. Donald and Goofy would have. His hands balled into fists, and it took a long, drawn out sigh to relax them.

“Come on,” Sora said. The three of them looked to him. Their frowns and glassy eyes had him falter. He put up a sincere smile, almost chuckling at how familiar it felt. “I made a mistake, but Maleficent made a bigger one. We can still help everyone, even those who had their hearts taken.”

Pinkie perked her head, “Really?”

Sora was glad her hopes rose so quickly. It gave himself the boost he needed.

“Really,” he said. “We’ll take down Maleficent and get them back. Promise.”

Rarity hummed - or growled, Sora wasn’t sure. It put a notch in his mood. The students in the back stepped out of their huddle, staying away while avoiding eye contact. Some still clung close together. Sora dug into his mind for an extra push he needed.

He threw his arm to the side, “That means no frowning. No sad faces. We can win this.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie said, smiling herself. “That’s a good mantra. I’m stealing that.”

“Sunset is lucky,” Rarity muttered before speaking up. “I hope you realize this does not get you off the hook, darling.”

“I’d be worried if it did,” Sora said, scratching the back of his head. “But you can chew us out later.”

“Right,” Rarity said. She patted Pinkie’s arm with an assured nod. Pinkie fidgeted but retracted her arm, hands intertwined and held in front of her. Rarity winced, but there was a fire in her. It was different from the hopeless anger from earlier. More from strength, determination. Again, it reminded Sora of himself.

“Those vines,” Rarity said, taking even breaths to steady herself. “Destroying them caused the Heartless to leave.”

“I saw it too,” Sora said. “And the Heartless responsible is in front of the school. Sunset and the others are fighting it to get to Maleficent.”

“Which means,” Spike said, rubbing his chin, “if we defeat that Heartless-”

“We save the school!” Pinkie cheered. “Oh, I love it when a plan comes together.”

Sora waved them on, “Let’s get going. The students should be safe here. We have to regroup with the others.”

“He’s coming.”

The words came from Fluttershy. They washed over Sunset Shimmer. It had to be true. Sora back in the flesh, fighting. It was a fantasy, so far away, before it sunk into reality. She managed her breathing to not get her hopes up. It didn’t mean they won the battle. Just that Sora could help make a difference.

Fluttershy shifted to the middle of their little group. Stitch tossed any Heartless that broke their line like a bodyguard. The others took ground and moved forward. Getting to the front of the school, closer to the statue, yanked Sunset back into the fray.

There was movement in the corner of her eye. Three knight-like Heartless pushed hard from the side. Sunset made to speak, pointing, then choked on her words when Twilight shoved them to the ground. Applejack stomped on two of them and punted the other away.

A Powerwild slipped behind them and dove at Sunset. Applejack snatched it out of the air and smashed it into the ground.

Sunset had to suppress a laugh. The adrenaline made the brisk attack surreal.

The chaos around her did little to stop her wandering mind. Sora was back, really back.

The Shadows charged. Their legs lopping from side to side in a ridiculous run. A lavender magic engulfed them and flung them aside like ragdolls. Sunset caught Twilight scrunch her face. Sweat beaded her forehead.

In a flash of colors, Rainbow was on the far side of the swarm. A heel kick to a knight-like Heartless sent it skidding across the grass. Then she zoomed back into their makeshift formation.

Sunset allowed a humorous grunt. They reached the bottom of the steps and neared the large foundation. The flower Heartless - Sunset called it Darkflower - still bobbed its head. There was no attack from it, no attempt to stop them. Its jagged smile taunted them.

Her friends could counter whatever the Heartless threw at them. Which meant something obvious had slipped their minds. Sunset pursed her lips.

“Is there any end to these things?” Rainbow asked. Her fists were held up, head twitching to any Heartless that got too close.

“Where’s Maleficent?” Twilight asked. A Shadow scratched her leg. She pulled away with a hop, cringing. Her hands motioned, and another group of Heartless was swept away. Sunset made to check it out, but the Heartless kept her at bay.

“She was at the portal, right?” Sunset asked, a little over a whisper. She squirmed and scanned the area.

The vines wrapped around the marble and portal like a lifeline before slipping into the ground. Which barged into the school to dispense Heartless.

“Wait a minute,” Sunset said. “Maleficent doesn’t need Heartless in the school. Just to get access to the portal. So then the orbs on the vines… The vines!” She rushed to Rainbow and pulled her around by the shoulder. “We have to-”

The vines pulsed like a heartbeat. Pressure applied against Sunset as the area grew dimmer. It suffocated her, wormed its way into her. Everyone was stooped over, eyes wide. The Heartless didn’t advance, but shimmied in place.

Every attempt to move burned Sunset. She managed to cock her head to the side enough to see the portal.

Veins pushed against the skin of the vines. Purple goo secreted from the ground where the roots had dug into. The marble face flickered, light sputtering to life, before the portal appeared. Blue, white, and pink swirled into each other, spiraling into a single point. Sunset’s heart sank.

Whatever oppressed them had lifted. Everyone caught themselves from falling over. Stitch bound to Fluttershy to stare up at her, ears folded down. The others burst into questions that Sunset didn’t register. That pulse, an aura, had reacted with their hearts, or even deeper than that. Sunset placed a hand against her chest.

A burst of emerald drew her back to the portal, to Maleficent. There was no reaction to their plight, a cold indifference. Her focus was on the portal. A small smirk crept up her face. Sunset clenched the hand over her chest, her blood boiling. The emptiness from before erupted into a burning fury. She stepped past her friends.

Rainbow was at Maleficent in an instant. Her fist flew to strike her cheek. Maleficent reared back with a dull grunt, holding a limp hand to cover her head. Sunset froze mid step.

A low growl emanated from Maleficent. Her staff glowed that sickening green before she swung at Rainbow. It sent her flying over their heads. Sunset held a hand over her mouth.

“Insolent fool!” Maleficent yelled, her lips curling into a snarl.

“Stitch!” Fluttershy cried.

“Yeah, yeah!” he said, waving over Applejack. She took a hold of his arm and flung him into the sky.

He caught Rainbow midair. They tumbled over one another before Rainbow dropped into Applejack’s arms. Rainbow was stunned, unmoving. Stitch laughed on her lap.

“Rainbow!” Sunset said. Rainbow flinched. Her hand hovered over her shoulder. It was singed, leaving her clothing smoldering. “Please tell me you’re alright. No jokes!”

“Who knew that scrawny hag could hit,” Rainbow said with a laugh. Sunset recognized it. More of the adrenaline talking. It was a joke, and Sunset was ready to lay it on her, but she was too relieved to do it.

“All so predictable.”

They faced Maleficent. The portal behind her showed no sign of ceasing. The Darkflower lowered its head. Its bladed pedals dug into the stone, spewing sparks and pieces of marble. There was no more confidence in Maleficent. Instead, her head lowered to glower at the group.

“To rely so heavily on your powers,” Maleficent spat. “Never to adapt and grow stagnant. It is almost endearing how you cling to them.”

“Ah, shut up!” Sunset said. After the attack on the school, and the villains they took down before, to hear Maleficent denounce their abilities struck a nerve. It had her shaking. “We don’t need your opinion. We’re going to take you down before you do anything to Equestria.”

“Yeah!” Rainbow said, pushing herself out of Applejack. She stumbled as she did. “These ‘powers’ are going to send you flying like you did me!”

Twilight brought a hand to her chin, “Maybe not the best comeback.”

“There’s more to us than our powers,” Sunset said, stomping a foot. “If you think we’re nothing but girls with magical abilities, then-”

“Ugh, enough,” Maleficent said, her fingers massaging her temple. “I see why this place was deigned the refuge for friendship. Even its protectors are annoyances. Among other things.”

Her eyes rested on Sunset. It brought her back to their first meeting, in the same place. It rubbed Sunset the wrong way, like the explanation was right in front of her. She leaned forward, ready to call her out.

Maleficent raised her staff. Lightning sparked from the orb as it shined once again. The Shadows gathered to climb on top of each other. And it grew upwards. Some merged into an even worse monstrosity, while others floated into a forming pillar.

Everyone took careful steps back, aghast. Every time Sunset was sure it would stop, it only garnered extra height. The Shadows squirmed and wriggled inside like hundreds of ants working to keep up the form. The pillar swayed under its own weight, other Heartless pulled in like gravity had changed for them until they were swallowed up.

“Horse apples,” someone said. It was a faint sound. Sunset couldn’t pinpoint who said it. The pillar of Heartless grasped her attention. As they mounted higher, so did her fear. She could hear her own breathing, hear the faint mumbles from her friends, their own fear.

Maleficent flourished her robe. A bemused grunt escaped her.

“Sunset, was it?” she asked. Sunset didn’t know how she found out her name. It caused more panic than it should have. “To think you a Princess of Heart. Nothing more than rabble.”

The world span around Sunset. The others looked to one another before settling on her. Their gazes drilled into her head. Their questions burned her ears without them uttering a word.

“Princess…?” Sunset mumbled. The title dangled in front of her. Either to entice or torment her, but her feelings were the same. It hurt to hear it.

And the pillar descended on them. Yellow eyes became red. A glob of darkness flashed from within the swarm. Sunset braced herself.

Furious footsteps beat against the concrete behind them. A shadow passed overhead, and a blade deflected the pillar to the side. It rammed against the ground. Dirt and grass kicked up.

Sora. It was Sora. His clothes, his keyblade, his scowl. Sunset had to take it all in. Even as he landed, keyblade raised for another swing, she had to stare as though he would vanish. Her mind repeated in her head that he was back, but seeing him rose a slew of emotions.

The pillar rose above to swirl around like a daunting cloud. Shadows floated along a line as the core lead the way.

“Whoo, we made it!” Pinkie cheered, hugging Twilight from behind.

“Not a moment too late, I hope?” Rarity asked at Rainbow’s shoulder. Her eyes were sunken.

Rainbow snickered, “What happened to no more last-minute saving?”

“Circumstances, darling, circumstances” Rarity said, raking her fingers through her hair. It smoothed a few patches, but it didn’t hide how mussy she had become. “It can’t be helped that we have to get everyone out of trouble again.”

“Thank you,” Sunset whispered. And she couldn’t mean it any more. Her heart was in her throat, her spirits higher than they had been all day. Everyone exchanged glances. It put Sunset on the spot, but she would take any teases over it.

They could win this.

“You,” Maleficent hissed. Sora stiffened, his keyblade held a little higher. “You wretched boy.”

“What?” Sora said. Humor dripped from his voice. “You thought you could get away with this?”

Maleficent glared at him. Her arm raised with her staff tucked beside her. The Heartless pillar veered in the air, much faster than before. It swooped down to Sora. He leapt in the air as it scraped against the sidewalk. It twisted around for another run. Sora blocked, but it pushed him through the air until he flipped over to run along the stream of Shadows.

When he returned to the ground, he sank a few inches, teetering, before psyching himself.

Sunset had seen that behavior to know he was exhausted. Her mind worked overtime, glancing to the vines, the Darkflower, the portal, and back to the vines.

“Sora!” Sunset called. He tilted his head to her. “We need to cut the vines of the Darkflower. It’s the source of its power.”

“Hey, we figured that too!” he said. “Great minds really do think alike.”

That got a smile out of Sunset. His enthusiasm would have exasperated her if it wasn’t for his charm.

“Can you do it?” she asked.

“Leave it to me.”

The Heartless pillar crashed into him. He tumbled away before pushing out a hand to flip back onto his feet. Sunset was too shocked to say anything, but Sora waved them off.

“I’m fine!” he said. The pillar rammed into him again, except he slashed at the glowing core. Shadows broke loose, dropping down in droves. “You guys do what you gotta do!”

“You heard him,” Rainbow Dash said.

“Time to pony up?” Fluttershy asked from behind Sunset. She broke away from Fluttershy to face them. Their expressions held one underlying emotion. Worry. The grunts and fighting from Sora wracked at Sunset. She recalled what she had said to Applejack earlier. It was a faint din from the drawn-out chaos.

“Let’s do it.”

Water splashed in front of them. Sora dashed through the air to slice through the horde of Shadows to reveal the core. His keyblade stabbed into it. The core writhed as red and yellow shimmered around it.

“You stand back now,” Fluttershy said. It broke Sunset away from Sora to find her knelt down to Stitch. He made little movements as though she was still in danger. The others held hand in hand with Twilight offering hers to Sunset.

Fluttershy hurried to join the chain, focused and ready as the rest were. Sunset wished she had that resolve. Another glance at Sora had him dive towards one of the roots. He sliced through it as he passed before twirling around to slice at another.

“He’ll take care of it,” Twilight said. It was comforting, like Princess Twilight had done a year ago when Sunset had hit her lowest. “Don’t worry.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Sunset said before taking her hand. She got the willpower she needed.

They were linked together, standing side by side. Their geodes around their necks glowed.

Sora spun in place. His clothes shifted colors to a dominating black before he pointed his keyblade at the Heartless swarm. Energy bloomed at the tip. It hummed and rippled.

Sunset shivered as a cool, clean feeling washed over her. They rose above the ground with new dresses that glimmered and radiated with magic. Their hair was done up in fancy length to flow down their backs, acting as tails. Pony ears poked out at the top of their heads. Emblems appeared on one side of their cheeks.

The keyblade exploded in missiles of light. They honed in on the pillar and the rest of the roots of the Darkflower. Each impact imploded and took a chunk of the plant matter until they snapped. Shadows within the swarm burst apart in bubbles of light, forming holes in the pillar before it collapsed. The Shadows dissipated as soon as they touched the ground.

“Interloper!” Maleficent cried. “How dare you!”

Her staff lashed out in a stream of fire. The emerald flames rushed to Sora. He shielded himself in a veil of water before shooting it to Maleficent. She recoiled at the impact. Her eyes flicked to the portal.

Light coalesced from Sunset and the girls into an orb before a beam fired towards the Darkflower. It pulled its vines to intercept, but it blasted through them and struck it. The school rumbled. The roots that remained shriveled and turned to ash. The beam of light pierced the Darkflower and lopped the head clean off.

It spun in the air before it embedded itself into the ground with its pedal blades.

The world was still. Sunset clutched the hands she held. Her breathing was shallow, hitching, then she released a long sigh as the Darkflower vanished in a black haze. Maleficent stood behind it. One hand clung to her arm. Her staff lay at her feet, shattered into fragments of metal and glass.

“No, what is this?” she asked. It was hoarse. Her eyes darted among the group before leveling a glare at the portal. It faded until it was nothing more than gray concrete. Sunset breathed easier. “This… power. Has that other world bled into this realm?”

“What, the magic of friendship?” Sunet said as they descended. Their feet found their footing to settle in front of a cowering maleficent. Sunset smirked before she realized it. “I guess my home puts up more of a fight than you thought.”

“Your home…” Maleficent said. Her expression contorted into a grimace. Her arm shook as she pulled back. “Then the Princess of Heart-”

“Why do you call me that?” Sunset asked. Hearing it again whipped up another storm in her. “I’m not a princess!”

“No,” Maleficent said. “Certainly not.”

“Enough of the games,” Sora said. Sunset jumped. He had made his way over to her, and she didn’t even see him. Looking over to him built up a new fondness for him. He held his keyblade limply at his side. “You’re through. Give up already.”

“And return the hearts stolen?” Maleficent sneered. Her head bowed to hide her face, chuckling. “Retire myself to your whim? As though it were so easy. You are indeed the fool.”

She cackled.

“This isn’t funny!” Rainbow snapped, stomping over to grab her. Maleficent ignited in emerald flames. Her laugh echoed. It rang in their ears. The fire diminished to small flickers in the stone. Then a stray breeze snuffed them out.

They had won. There was no fanfare, but a silence that was so fragile a fallen pin could break it. Sunset blinked, turning to sweep her gaze across the scene. The school still stood with gaping holes where the vines had smashed through. The girls were still in their power forms. Half were on the brink of collapse. The other half were far too distant, either from contemplation or frustration. The stand-out was Sora, who had a mixture of both.

"Guess I'm not the only one who can change forms,” he said, examining their outfits. The girls shrugged, nonplussed. It dampened his smile. “Don’t act like that. What Maleficent said was bogus. We’ll get everyone back.”

Sunset stepped over to him. His clothes and expression were pristine. They were the same as when Sunset had met him. And like earlier, there was something off about it. She pulled her hands up, hesitated, then took a hold of his shoulders and jostled him.

“H-Hey!” Sora said. He struggled out of her hold. “What’s that for?”

She pinched his arm.

“Ow!” he cried, rubbing it. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You are real,” Sunset said. She shifted from side to side to get every side of him. Every side of the real him.

“Of course. I’m back, aren’t I?”

People had their hearts taken, the school was in disarray, and Maleficent had gotten away. Sunset had every right to worry. But Sora was so sure of them. It wasn’t unfounded belief. They had done a lot in a year, even if this was far more dire.

Wallflower passed through her mind. It hurt to think of her lost. Sunset had to tune it out for Sora. Not to forget her, but to reaffirm he could help them. Sunset curled her lips up into a smile. She chuckled as fatigue nestled inside her.

“You know how to keep a girl waiting.”

Chapter 10: Every Step Forward

A burst of Darkness within the observatory put a smile on Adagio. The cold mountain air was an illusion. Her hunger was satisfied on the spot. Energy filled her limbs when they had laid limp at her side. She couldn’t get off the ground soon enough. The Darkness was intense. It wasn’t a tingle in her head, but a drum beating alongside her heart.

Aria called out to her. It was a dull sound that was beaten over the drums. Adagio reached the double doors and threw herself onto them. Darkness seeped through. It was honey to her senses. She could press herself against the observatory for eternity to never forsake the feeling again.

“Did you forget how to open a door?” Sonata asked.

Gone. Her voice had punctured the Darkness, and like a vacuum, it was sucked out. Adagio scraped her nails against the metal to stop her from pouncing on her.

“Is that a yes?” Sonata asked. Her hands covered her ears, grimacing.

Aria hurried to Adagio and took hold of her shoulder. “What’s gotten into you? If it’s that Darkness you never shut up about, can we get on with it?”

It took a lot in Adagio not to shove her off. There was no repercussions if she did. She was in charge. The Darkness still lingered, like a blip on the radar. She couldn’t lose it by yelling at the others.

“She’s back,” she growled. It had Aria retreat back and clutch her wrist. Even to Adagio, it came out wrong. It didn’t matter. She latched to the handle and lurched back. The door flung to the side, bounced off the wall, and swung back to her open palm.

The spiked vines bristled. They had retracted their hold of the walls to reveal panels and boards covered in astronomical algorithms and diagrams. It allowed the lights to peek through. The vines cast gnarled shadows on the floor. The telescope still had Darkness dance across its surface. It hid the emblem from sight.

Maleficent hunched underneath it. Her breathes came out in exasperated gasps. One hand reached out to grasp nothing, the other clung to her chest. The energy from before pushed Adagio on. She wasn’t dealing with an arbiter of Darkness but an old witch. Laughter rumbled from her throat.

“The Heartless prey on the weak,” Adagio said. There was an echo that didn’t carry far. Maleficent turned enough to drive her gaze into her. “You had grand plans for them. And how did those plans go?”

“Do not speak as though I am beneath you,” Maleficent snapped. She towered over them before kneeling again. Her staff was missing. Her hand still reached for it.

“For the moment, you are beneath me,” Adagio smiled. Her hands hung behind her as she strolled inside. “Let me guess. A group of girls you underestimated toppled you just as you tasted victory?”

“It was that boy that toppled me,” Maleficent huffed. “The girls would have fallen if not for his interference.”

Adagio sashayed from one side to the next. Each one brought her closer. “A boy?”

“A keyblade wielder,” Maleficent said. “A weapon more powerful than any ridicule you could produce, Siren.”

“A Siren you’re going to rely on,” Adagio said. She ran a hand under her hair to push it up with a flare. “No excuses. You were defeated by a group of seven girls. We’ve dealt with them, and we know where to strike to cripple them. Give us the power of Darkness and we help you.”

“It’s a fair exchange!” Sonata said with a swing of her arm. Adagio regretted bringing them along.

Aria shuffled up to Maleficent. “Where’s your staff? Lose it? I’m guessing because of the ‘power of friendship?’ I’m pretty sure you know what tears apart friendship.”

Maleficent hummed. The telescope had her attention. Adagio would have smashed it right there and then, put the focus on them, but there was a glint in Maleficent. A glint they needed to take advantage of.

“Come on, witchy-dichy,” Sonata said in rhythm. “Choose now-”

“Shut up,” Adagio snapped. It came out like before. Raspy with an edge that pricked Sonata enough to jerk back. Even Aria shivered. She refused to meet her eyes.

Maleficent studied her. Adagio crossed her arms. There wasn’t enough give in Maleficent and her crochity ways. She had stood up straighter, no longer grasping out.

“Give us a test,” Adagio said. It stung to hear it as pleading. Like the beggars they had to become. That wasn’t who they were anymore. “Maybe get you whatever you’re reaching for. Something you need badly.”

“Yes, a test,” Maleficent said softly. Her nods were subtle before picking up speed. “More than enough to rid myself of you. But if you succeed…”

She was back to her full self. A spire of Darkness that permeated the world. “Very well. You want a test? I shall bestow you one.”

Sunset peeked through a door propped open by a plank of wood. The broken handle rattled when her foot pushed it aside. Every visit to Principal Celestia's office had her on edge. The aftermath of the Heartless made it worse. Debris lined the carpet. The smashed window framed the mass of first responders outside. The desk sat crooked in front of it. Dings and scratches sprinkled its polish. Principal Celestia herself leaned against it.

With the power out, Sunset had to squint to make out the torn sleeves and thousand yard stare on Celestia. She didn’t move, but still watched them take careful steps inside. Sora slid around Sunset to examine a picture frame cushioned between the texts from a fallen bookcase. A whistling breeze chilled the air. A reminder of the tunnels left behind by the vines. Sunset rubbed her arms.

“Who was it?” Celestia asked. It was reserved. Sunset wasn’t sure if she wanted to answer. “Who attacked my school?”

“Maleficent,” Sora said. It was straight forward with no hint of malice. Sunset was glad there wasn’t. It wouldn’t suit him. He crouched to brush off the dust on the picture frame.

Celestia shifted to pull up a scabbard as long as her arm. Her fingers ran across the leather. It was enough for Sunset to drop her urge to drag Sora over to Celestia. Half a dozen magical instances within the school, and this was the first Sunset had seen her with a sword.

“From another world, I assume?” Celestia asked. She slid up the scabbard to clench the hilt.

Sunset and Sora exchanged glances before he returned to the picture frame. It tested her patience, though it did give a gist of his thoughts. Enough discussions about the topic would have her shy away too.

Celestia sighed through her nose. “I always thought my master was exaggerating. Darkness arriving to enter the portal. Poisoning the other world. Cutting the threads connecting friends. It should have stayed that way, an exaggeration. A tall tale to keep us on guard through the years.”

“Master?” Sora asked. His spine snapped up as the frame fell apart in his hand. The clatter of wood and glass masked his string of apologies. His frantic attempt to save it had the photo slip out of the matting.

It sent Sunset into a tizzy. Sora swiped the air to catch the fluttering photo taken by the breeze. The whole ordeal had her clamp her mouth and eyes shut to stop herself. He handled things his own way. She should understand that. Celestia on the other hand...

“What master?” Sunset asked. An avalanche of questions revitalized her tired muscles. She gestured to Celestia. “You knew about the portal and where it went. What the other world meant to ours. For how long?”

“Twenty years?” Celestia sneered. The sword swung out. Sunset jerked back. Its metal sheen was bright even in the dim lighting. “He came to train us to protect the portal, to protect another world. Were we supposed to trust him? Expect the worst because he said so? We were kids!”

She dropped her sword to cradle her stomach. The blade reverberated with a dull thump against the carpet. It mixed with her suppressed groan. Sunset was torn whether to comfort her or to demand where the sword came from.

Celestia pursed her lips. Her head lowered to gaze at the blade. The steel was dulled enough to appear foggy. Scratches criss-crossed the surface. It was bent an inch above the hilt at a small enough angle to miss. Embossed where the handle met blade was an emblem of a key. A huff escaped Celestia.

Sunset found herself drawn to it. Certain dimples and cast lines looped around the key emblem as though a rush of water had formed it. Her fingers traced over the details. Smooth to the touch, despite the handful of blemishes. She slipped a hand under the handle and blade each to bring it up with her

“Half the school is gone,” Celestia said. Her breath hitched before she grunted to hide it. “Over a hundred students, all the faculty but one, and... Luna.”

Her voice was level, but her eyelid twitched.

“Sora can help us,” Sunset said. Hearing her had him jump up. He pocketed the photo before hurrying over to Celestia. “He says we can get everyone back.”

“That’s right,” he said, raising a fist. “I couldn’t do much as a phantom. Now, I can search for the source of the Heartless and take it out. That should do the trick, don’t you worry.”

Celestia saw him, recognized him, but at the same time, it didn’t register in her. Until her head jerked back.

“You were the phantom,” Celestia muttered. Her hand ran across one of her torn sleeves to fiddle with the cloth. “The one from the sightings. You’re a keyblade wielder?”

“Yep!” Sora said, puffing out his chest. It deflated when a question struck him. It was easy for Sunset to tell when he had one. “Wait, you know about keyblades too?”

Celestia pushed off the desk to hug herself. The sword held her attention. Sunset tightened her grip on it without cutting herself.

“It seems there’s a lot we need to share,” Celestia said. She rounded on Sunset, and for the life of her, she couldn’t meet her eyes. “You withhold this information, even after a prior incident, if I’m not mistaken. I may not be versed in the world you’re from, but surely you could have sought my council. My sister and I have been involved in enough of your magical instances to warrant it. So much could have been avoided!”

Sunset didn’t want the sword anymore. She balanced it back and forth between her hands. It didn’t distract her well enough. Seeking advice from Princess Twilight had always been her go-to method. It was sound reasoning to her. Though she hadn’t tried all of her options. Go to Celestia to enforce the right measures. Keep the school and portal safe. Do everything in her power. She had only stuck to her usual resources.

“Sorry,” Sunset mustered. It was pathetic. Like one little word could fix things.

Celestia burned her gaze into her. Sunset could do nothing but shrink and shrink until she was a misbehaving child before her.

“Hey, don’t blame her,” Sora said. Celestia laid off at last. Sunset took a gulp of air as though she had been holding it in. “You could have sought her council too. She was smart enough to bring me back.”

Celestia relaxed back. She had never lashed out at Sunset like that before. Plenty of scolding sprinkled with disappointment, sure, but never worse than that. It gutted her to hear it regardless. It thrusted her back to confronting Princess Celestia again. Trembling in the throne room in Canterlot. Sunset took the blade in one hand to loop a lock of her hair around her finger.

They just had to be the same person.

“It’s not like you’ve been open either,” Sora said. It was a challenge. He wasn’t going to take those words back. The first time Sora was upset with someone other than Maleficent. It had Sunset stare at him as though he would wink at her. “You know about keyblades and whoever this master is. Why didn’t you bring it to her, huh?”

“That’s not necessary!” Sunset said. She sprung at him to tug at his arm. He shot her a look with big puppy dog eyes. It reminded her of her mother. All she could do was strain a smile. “I’m sure you have your reasons, Principal Celestia.”

“The World Order,” she said. There was a pause as though it explained everything. It left Sunset in a storm of emotions. She dropped her arms back to her side.

Sora set his hands on his hips with a drawn out groan. “Now you sound like Donald.”

For once, Celestia strayed from her temper to search for the words to respond.

“What’s the World Order?” Sunset asked.

“One cannot involve themselves in the affairs of other worlds,” Sora recited. His finger swayed like a conductor. “That includes telling others about it.”

Sunset tapped a finger to her chin. “So, kind of like my position? Everyone knowing about Equestria would cause fear and confusion.”

Not like Canterlot High didn’t know about her world.

“Yeah, like that,” Sora nodded.

Celestia sagged her shoulders. “Since Maleficent broke that rule, I guess I have no choice.”

She snatched something off her desk and held it out to Sora. He made to approach, but flinched as though stricken. Recognition flickered in the fine movement in his brow from a glint in her grasp.

Sunset pushed him forward. She knew he wouldn’t hold it against her. His grin back at her was proof.

His hand extended to reach Celestia’s. A trinket fell into his palm. When he held it up, Sunset could make out a keychain marked with jewels. It ended in a pendant of a star.

“Shooting Star!” Sora cheered with a small hop. The trinket floundered in his grasp. He never took his attention away from it. He whipped to Sunset and held it so close she saw more of his skin than the keychain. “See? It’s one of my lost items! This can help me fight the Heartless.”

“Yes, yes, I can see,” Sunset chuckled, bringing his hands down. They were soft to the touch. It still astounded her that she hadn’t thought about stuff like that.

“Luna found it.”

The mood dropped like an anvil. Sora and Sunset stood stock still. It was easy to forget what had happened in the school. Sunset wanted to blame Sora and his joy. His childlike frown reaffirmed she could never do that.

Celestia walked around her desk to plop into her office chair. Her exhaustion hit her as she slumped into the cushion, hair flowing around her shoulders. It ached Sunset to see it. The attack on the school was an intense hour that felt like a day had crammed itself into it.

“Our master came out of the blue to train us. He refused to give his name, deduced my sister and I were capable to wield a keyblade, and showed us the existence of other worlds. All to protect the source of all friendship. I can’t even remember how he ever convinced us to accept his training.”

“Wait, wait,” Sunset said. Her hands patted the air. “Let me get this straight, a keyblade master came down to have you and Vice Principal Luna use keyblades to protect my home? Does that mean…?”

She lifted the sword up. Its existence answered her own question.

“I didn’t leave to become a keyblade wielder when he denied Luna admittance.”

Sunset clenched her jaw shut. It dug up memories in Celestia better left buried. Sunset shared that sentiment all too well.

“Now,” Celestia trailed off, her shoulders hunched, her brows knitted together, one hand folding over the other. “I wish I hadn’t refused.”

A flash of light broke through. Sora brandished his keyblade with the subtlety of a bus. The smaller parts still stood out to Sunset. There was nothing significant in them, like the leather grip or the three-circled keychain. It was the proximity and authenticity that projected its aura. It was real.

Celestia leaned forward, sitting up to square her shoulders. Sunset braced herself for another rebuke.

“You’ll assist us?” Celestia asked. “Repayment for returning you to your form?”

Sora winced. “It’s a little more than that, but it wouldn’t be me to stand aside and watch.”

“He could learn a thing or two from you,” she muttered before sighing. “Do what you can, Sora.”

The built up tension released like a balloon. To have Celestia fall back to her usual collected self left Sunset on guard. It wasn’t enough. They didn’t need Celestia’s permission. There was so much more to address.

“What about the school?” Sunset asked. The sword slipped from her grip. She jerked back as it tumbled back onto the floor. Her pulse spiked. “What happens to our classes? The clubs? The events?”

“All canceled,” Celestia remarked with a shake of her head. “A weekend isn’t enough to rebuild, rehire, and regain our reputation. The superintendent contacted me personally. Besides the lack of time, we don’t have the funds nor students to start up again before the end of the school year. You might want things to return to normal, Sunset Shimmer, but our hands are tied.”

Maleficent had taken the one thing Sunset never thought she could. The loss of Fall Formal, her school work, her future put a pit in her stomach. It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. The fate of her home and other worlds were at stake. Her school life was nothing in comparison. Sunset had to clench her hands to keep them from trembling.

Why was she trembling?

“We need rest,” she said. It came out monotone. Her insides were hollow. Pins and needles coursed through her veins. She wanted out of the office.

“Very well,” Celestia said. Her jaw tightened as she stood back up. “Don’t throw your lives away. I already lost enough students.”

Sora hummed. “I actually had some other questions.”

Sunset grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him to the door.

“Uh, I’ll ask later!” he called out as Sunset released him.

Principal Celestia had shown more concern than Sunset had ever heard her express. It was pointless. She held her hands together to stifle the trembling. Sora raised a hand to her.

“You can keep it,” Celestia said. Sunset and Sora faltered at the doorway.

“Excuse me?”

“The photo. You can keep it.”

Sunset searched for anything to clue her in on what Celestia felt about it. Maybe a twitch in her eye or a scowl or even a good natured grunt. Nothing.

“Thanks,” Sora nodded. She had an itch to ask who was in the photo, but her nerves got the better of her. A walk was what she needed.

Sora was quick to recap their discussion with Celestia and the attack in the hallway. Sunset listened, tried hard to keep up, but there was no insight to gain. It put her mind in a rut when she recounted the day. Sora as a phantom, the Heartless, Maleficent, the mysterious master, the protection of her world. The worst was a trivial observation that gnawed at her gut.

Principal Celestia never once thanked Sora.

Stitch held up a bundle of flowers to Fluttershy.

“Oh!” she said. They were dandelions. Yellow and bright. The gift reminded her of the number of times she had done the same with her mother. It warmed her heart to see Stitch present them as though he had done a huge favor. “Thank you.”

Stitch nodded fast enough his ears couldn't keep up before sprinting across the lawn to the ambulances and police cars condensed at the front of the school. The blinking lights made her eyes water, and she had to pull away back to the flowers. It was a miracle they didn’t take Stitch away.

“Ugh, done,” Twilight groaned. She collapsed on the steps next to Fluttershy. Her ponytail splayed across the concrete as she faced the sky. “I swear, if another officer asks me a question, I’m directing him to Pinkie Pie.”

“Should we get her?” she asked. A tuft of fluffy pink hair zipped above the crowds. It vanished before popping back up in another part of the yard.

“I don’t feel like chasing after her,” Twilight said. A groan escaped her lips as her arms curled close to her chest. Fluttershy admonished herself. Of course Twilight was tired. She used her powers until her energy dried up.

Pinkie held up a tray of cupcakes to an officer who waved her off. A kneeling EMT declined one as well. Pinkie squirmed when he raised a flashlight at a classmate’s eye. It went on for a while. Each person, from police officers to onlookers behind the tape, refused to have a cupcake. Even a small child hid behind her mother when Pinkie approached her. Fluttershy was sure one person yelled at Pinkie for it. Her bright smile never dampened.

A twitter broke Fluttershy away to a robin landing on her knee. His chirps were fast with nary a pause, but Fluttershy had spoken to him before to know how to catch the important bits. What he had to say was enough for her to hold a hand to her chest with a nice, easy breath.

“Mr. Robinson says Applejack and Apple Bloom made it home A-okay.”

“Then that accounts for everyone,” Twilight said. She wiped her brow and shifted to sit up straight. “Hopefully Sunset and Sora will finish up soon so we can all go home.”

It should have been a boon to know they were close to leaving. To find some sanctuary away from the hectic day. The pit in Fluttershy’s stomach didn’t reflect any of that.

“Gabba?”

Stitch stood with a handful of worms. They wriggled in his grasp until one slipped and plopped onto the concrete. He sidestepped to scoop it up before thrusting them close to Fluttershy. Mr. Robinson hopped back with a shrill chirp. The toothy grin on Stitch was bigger than before.

“The birds could use this,” Fluttershy said. She set aside the flowers to take the worms in her own hand. They were still moist. Mud clung to their skin. Her first thought was to wash them off, but the birds wouldn’t mind. “Do you want to grab your friends, Mr. Robinson?”

A begrudging tweet was his reply before he flew off.

“You know, Stitch here is something else,” Twilight said. She reached out to scratch behind his ear. He leaned into her hand as his tongue hung out. “His agility alone is faster than any animal I know. And he figured out to have Applejack toss him up to catch Rainbow Dash. That’s a faster reaction time than I had.”

Twilight forced out a chuckle. Her energy was still drained. Stitch stepped closer to rub against her like a puppy demanding affection. It should have had Fluttershy melt at the sight, but a frown tugged at Stitch. He knew what he was doing.

“You should have seen him in the library,” Fluttershy said. A shiver passed through her spine. The Heartless still scared her. “He and Sora made a good team.”

“Fluttershy good too,” Stitch added. His eyes drilled into her until she looked away. She wasn’t even sure keeping him in her backpack was a good thing.

Twilight petted the top of his head, and he was lost in her hand again.

“You all helped the girls too,” Twilight said with a shake of her head. Her glasses drooped before pushing it back up her nose. “Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, none of them would have made it without you.”

The seconds before they had hidden behind the desk were still a blur to Fluttershy. The most she could recall was someone dragging her back there. Her shoulders hunched as she tilted her head to hide behind her hair.

“It was Sora,” she whispered. Her hand brushed through her hair. It was still soft after everything.

“Oh yeah,” Twilight said with a hasty nod. Her hand dug into Stitch to scratch the top of his head. He collapsed on the spot with a content sigh. “He was really effective against the Heartless. His keyblade tore right through that… He called it a Demon Tower. Right. I can’t imagine what would have happened if Sora hadn’t taken off to find you.”

Sora had bailed them out. Stitch had supported him to pull it off. Cheerilee had kept the girls away from danger. Fluttershy had cowered. Twilight danced around it, but Fluttershy knew deep in her heart what she had contributed. A handful of callouts, one or two that were meaningful. It wasn’t enough, even if no one said it.

The entrance swung open. Sunset walked down in stiff strides. Patches of her jacket were in tatters. The sight clutched her insides before Fluttershy remembered all of them had a few tears. There wasn’t any more Heartless. Nothing to fear. It did have her hold herself for fear getting the best of her again.

Sora held the door open at the top of the steps. There was no wear on him. He looked like he could jump into another battle.

“Hey, guys,” Sunset said. It was stilted. She glanced between Fluttershy and Twilight. “Did the others get home safe?”

Twilight pulled her hand away from Stitch, who snapped to attention.

“The Apple family are all together,” Twilight said. She counted on her fingers. “Rainbow Dash dropped off Scootaloo. Rarity and Sweetie Belle swung by their parents work. Pinkie Pie is off doing what she does best. Everyone else is getting checked by the paramedics. We were lucky they haven’t detained us for questioning. Darkness and Heartless isn’t something that would go over well.”

“Good,” Sunset said. “That’s good.”

Her head dipped low, but she scanned the scene. Sora still hadn’t moved from his spot in the back. It was as though he had something to say.

“School is cancelled,” Sunset said.

“What!?” Twilight said, surging back up to her feet. It made Fluttershy jump. Her energy had returned faster than she thought.

Sunset sighed as she crossed her arms. “Did you really expect the school to stay open?”

“I-it make’s sense,” Twilight said, adjusting her glasses. “Logically, there’s no way a school can bounce back after something this tragic. Emotionally, it… sucks.”

Fluttershy couldn’t sum it up better. She wouldn’t have come back for a week after the attack if it did resume classes, but to have it closed down made her wish she had done more.

“W-what…?” she said. Tears threatened to break free. Lives were lost, the school cancelled, the terrible witch still at large. Sunset dropped down beside her to drape an arm around her. “What do we do n-now?”

Sunset was unreadable. It wasn’t the first time Fluttershy couldn’t make out what went on in her head, but it was the first time it made her squirm.

“We take a break,” Sunset said. “Recuperate. There’s a lot to process.”

Twilight rubbed her arm and tried to make herself small. Fluttershy would have done the same, but waited for Sunset to continue. The pause stretched on and on until Fluttershy turned away.

A phone rang in Twilight’s bag. She pulled it out and answered it in one fluid motion.

“Hello?” she asked. Someone spoke on the other side, masculine. The way her face dropped was enough for Fluttershy to smile a little. “Yes, I’m fine, Shining. Tired, but fine… I nearly destroyed reality a few months ago, and this is the time you…? Okay, okay, I’ll wait across the street. It’s packed at the school right now.”

She hung up with a groan. Everyone looked at her expectantly.

“Shining Armor is picking me up,” she said. Her thumb flicked through her phone. It loosened her scowl enough to fall back to that drained self from before. Fluttershy swore her skin was paler. “After we rest, we need a plan of action. Maybe we can get together-”

“I know!” Sunset shouted. She shoved herself to her feet and paced away. “We’ll get a plan. Let’s just process that we won by the skin of our teeth and might not be so lucky next time.”

Fluttershy sat up stalk straight. Her legs tensed as though she was about to break off into a run to hide away. The outburst was like Sunset before they were friends, before Princess Twilight of Equestria had set things straight. It was for a moment until the present came rushing back. Sunset wasn’t a bully. She was stressed. Fluttershy repeated that in her head too many times to count.

“I’m leaving,” she said. Yet another stilted response. Fluttershy opened her mouth to have her stay a little longer. Her voice never emerged.

“I’ll catch up.” Sora descended to stand at the bottom. He threw his thumb over his shoulder. “I want to let them know about the meeting with Celestia.”

Sunset flinched as she frowned at him. A heavy sigh escaped her as she ran a hand down her face. Fluttershy still couldn’t find her voice. It cowered in her throat. Instead, she lifted herself up to shuffle closer to Twilight.

“Meet me at the corner when you’re finished,” Sunset said. It was tired, maybe sad. Her face didn’t reflect that at all. She left without hearing a reply.

Sora spun around with his arms on his hips. “Is something wrong with Sunset?”

Sunset had barely reached the edge of the lawn. There was no indication she had heard him.

“Something wrong?” Twilight asked. She held her bag in both arms, hugging it like it was a stuffed animal.

“Yeah,” he said. “Celestia told us about a keyblade master that trained her a while ago. But when Sunset brought up school and classes, it really upset her. She didn’t say a word to me when we made our way here.”

“Keyblade master?” Twilight muttered before she shook it away. Her grip shifted on her backpack to keep her balance. “Maybe she’s upset that a lot of people are gone, some of her friends included. Wallflower Blush was one of them. Trixie too.”

“Maybe,” Sora said. “But when we got back here, you guys seemed, I don’t know… different.”

“Everyone takes tragedy differently, Sora,” Twilight said. “I can’t say what’s going through her head, but I can say that your concern is important and welcome. It’s what friends do.”

He smiled. “I’m still sticking to my promise. No matter what. I just wish-”

“Promise!?” Pinkie tackled Sora to the ground. Her arms and legs pinned him down. A long tuft of her hair tapped against his face. He scrunched and blew it away. “You guys made a promise and didn’t consult me!? I am the connoisseur of promises! I have a patent on Pinkie Promises!”

“Pinkie, settle down!” Twilight hissed. She tightened the hold of her bag so hard a pained groan emanated from it.

“Settle down!?” Pinkie jumped up. The sight of the crowd lingering behind the tape had her swallow. “Yeah, you’re right. Settle down.”

It came out as a whimper. It calmed Fluttershy more than worried her. It was a wonder why Pinkie couldn’t stay that way for a minute or two. Fluttershy shifted closer to Twilight after that thought. Spike grumbled inside her bag.

“What was the promise?” Pinkie asked. She glanced to Twilight as though she would snap at her again.

“It’s…” Sora said. He got back to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s hard for me to say.”

Twilight nodded. Her ponytail swished across the top of Fluttershy’s head.

“I’m not sure what to do.” Sora tapped his toe against the pavement. “I figured she would bring it up if it was serious. She knows we would understand.”

“Bring it up to her anyway,” Twilight shrugged. Pinkie offered a smile.

Sora shook his head. “I can’t do that. That would force her to talk about something she isn’t ready to talk about.”

“Don’t make this a conundrum, Sora,” Twilight said, pointing to him. “You compared her to Riku, right? Just think about how you would handle the situation if she was Riku.”

“Have her spar with me?”

“Without fighting.”

“And if that doesn’t work,” Pinkie chimed in with a wink and a thumbs up, “spar with her anyway.”

Several flaps of wings broke Fluttershy to the sky. A half dozen birds - Mr. Robinson included - fluttered onto her shoulders and arms. A smile pushed against her cheeks as she cupped her handful of worms. They pecked at them in sharp, erratic movements, and their exclamations put butterflies in her stomach. The good kind of butterflies.

The others watched with a few tilting their heads. Fluttershy felt her face burn up, but her smile still remained. It cooled a little after Sora beamed. A soothing expression. It had her forget the terrible attack, if for a few seconds.

“I think I know what to do,” Sora said. He stared at the birds hopping around with cheerful chirps. Fluttershy didn’t think his mind was on them.

Chapter 1: Pieces to a Phantom

Sunset Shimmer spotted someone rush past the doorway. That familiar wedge of concern and curiosity sunk in. It was common for students to book it through the halls, but she recognized the flash of red and black. A figure that was too quick to glean anything but the bare minimum. One that she had seen for days. Even when she refused to look away, there was no movement, no hint of its return.

“Sunset, are you paying attention?” Rainbow Dash asked, waving a hand in front of her. Sunset blinked and was back in the music room. Her friends seated at the choir stands, except Rainbow Dash, stared at her, worriedly and partially annoyed. She had lost her focus, as she had several times before. Her hands rubbed her eyes, a sigh slipping out.

“Sorry, sorry, I know this is important,” Sunset said. The conversation returned in pieces, but the figure was at the forefront. So many questions and not a way to answer them.

“Is something bothering you?” Fluttershy asked softly. Sunset faced her, putting up a smile to mask her mess of a mind.

“Nothing that can’t wait,” she said. No one was convinced, even Pinkie Pie who narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Sunset averted eye contact, training her gaze to their instruments resting across from them.

“Gah, don’t tell me,” Rainbow said, the same exasperation she had every time the issue arose, “those weird ghosts again?”

To no surprise, she hit the nail on the head, and Sunset didn’t want to reply. Not to correct her, not to defend herself, not even to continue the subject. It caused problems regardless of their stances. Her silence was enough though. Everyone glanced to one another, and Sunset braced herself.

“You did get your eyes checked, darling?” Rarity asked, straightening out the wrinkles on her skirt.

“Maybe it’s time to join the glasses club,” Twilight Sparkle piped up, adjusting her own glasses with a sheepish laugh. Spike sunk his head, glaring at Twilight from his place on her lap. Sunset appreciated the light joke, even if it did fall flat, and returned it with a small smile before it fell back to a frown. It was a good reminder that they were only trying to help.

“Guys, like I keep telling you,” Sunset said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “They're not hallucinations, or my eyes going bad, or my imaginary friend.”

“I still think it’s a valid option,” Pinkie whispered to Applejack.

Sunset breathed in, then back out again, “Like I said, it isn’t important now.”

“It kind of is actually,” Rainbow said with a roll of her eyes. Her foot tapped impatiently, and it reminded Sunset of the last time she brought up this ghost, this phantom, with her friends. “I mean, a ghost is one thing. I’m all for fighting a wandering spirit and freeing them from their mortal shackles. You know, Daring Do style.”

“Not real,” Twilight snipped, doubt laced in her brow. Her fingers drumming against Spike’s head, who swiftly brushed them away with his paw. His mild annoyance never left him.

“Point bein’, Sunset,” Applejack said, pushing herself to her feet. “They’re folks only you can see, and knowin’ you, it’s gotta have somethin’ to do with magic. That ain’t somethin’ to ignore.”

Sunset fiddled with a lock of her hair, tugging at it before letting it go to bounce away. She still couldn’t meet any of their gazes, seeing fit to glance out the window to the front lawn below. Their claims of magic was not unfounded, and it was the first explanation Sunset had come up with too.

“It’s the least of our worries,” Sunset said with finality. She twisted around to prop her arms against the window sill. “Even if it is Equestrian magic, we’re all here because of everything else, like figuring out how to stop the ‘weekly magical incident.’ Our normal lives are just as important as our powers or the portal to Equestria, and every other…”

She trailed off. It was the phantom again, except it didn’t breeze by in a blur. It strolled through the grass in a wide arc, almost robotic. She had ample time to drink in its appearance, and with every detail she caught, the more thoughtful and unsure she was of its nature.

It was a boy, first and foremost, and one that could pass for a student at Canterlot High. Gray and black with red accents were the primary colors of his attire, fitting snug around his lithe frame. It became complicated from there, with hints of plaid and other small pieces Sunset couldn’t parse from the distance.

“See what I mean?” Rainbow pulled Sunset away from the window. Rainbow had a glare that brokered no argument. “You saw another of those ghosts, right?”

Sunset closed her mouth when she realized it hung open. The image of the boy still played in her vision, and with another glance to the school grounds, found he had vanished like the others.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rainbow grumbled before taking a step back, gesturing to Sunset. “You started seeing these things, what, a week ago?”

“Three days ago,” Sunset corrected.

“And they’ve distracted you every time,” Rainbow finished with a palm to her head. “It’s one thing to say it’s not important, but at least focus on the meeting.”

“And everything else too!” Pinkie said, thrusting her hand into the air. Her face contorted in thought, tapping a finger to her chin. “One minute you’re baking a sheet of brownies, the next your head is in the clouds, where the brownies are not at!”

“And don’t forget your studies!” Twilight said, sitting up straight and pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “I noticed your attention slipping during our last session.”

They were right. The phantom did distract her, and the root of it was reactionary. Sunset would catch something in the corner of her eye and couldn’t stop herself. Her curiosity was most likely the culprit, eager to learn more of the phantom with every glimpse. She hunched her shoulders, wanting to argue this point, but sweeping across each face proved it was unfair on their parts. Her shoulders relaxed.

“Okay, I get it,” Sunset said, nodding. She filled in the blanks to come to a compromise, and made an effort to keep her tone friendly, keep her mindset friendly. “Maybe putting this whole ghost thing on the back burner was a bad idea. I’ll write to Twilight, er, the other Twilight, when I get the chance. See if she can help.”

There was a round of approval from the others. Sunset felt her frustration slip away like sand through her hand. The support was warm and very welcome compared to her strife over these phantoms. Her problems were theirs as well.

“So, let’s try to make up for lost time,” Sunset said, invigorated. The others listened with rapt attention. “I wanted to start with a way to address any stray magic. Like containing-”

A phone vibrated, causing her to pause. Twilight smiled in apology as she dug out her phone.

“And that would be our cue,” Spike said, shaking his head slowly.

“Spike, what are you-?” Twilight asked before she read her phone. Her eyes widened, and she sprung to her feet. Spike tumbled to the floor in a heap. “We’re late! Oh no, I promised Cadance I’d spend time with her today.”

Sunset raised a brow, “Today? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I… thought the meeting would last a few minutes,” Twilight admitted, twirling a strand of her hair with a finger, apology written all over her. “Sorry.”

Rainbow retrieved her own phone, flicking through it before grunting, “Yeah, if Twilight’s heading out, I might as well too. Extra Soccer practice never hurt anyone.”

Pinkie giggled, “I’m sure that time you broke your ankle doesn’t count.”

“Nope,” Rainbow said monotonically, already typing out a text.

“No point havin’ a meetin’ if Twi ain’t here,” Applejack spoke up. Fluttershy bobbed her head, already slipping her bag on.

“Meeting adjourned!” Pinkie yelled, sweeping her arms to the side.

A pinprick of rejection hit Sunset. The fuss over the phantoms and their appearances had taken up too much of their meeting. Their minor frustrations over containing the Equestrian magic put aside for their normal lives. They wanted some semblance of an ordinary life, and Sunset had yet another magical problem.

“Guess we’ll have to talk later then,” she said, playing with her hands.

A hand was suddenly thrust in front of her, and it took Sunset a second to realize it was offering her a chocolate chip cookie.

“Don’t be sad now,” Pinkie said with a knowing look. The kind that got a chuckle out of Sunset. She knew how to cheer up a friend. Sunset took the cookie with curt nod in thanks. Pinkie beamed before giving her a peace sign as she followed after Applejack. Their farewells were brisk, as were Rainbow’s and Twilight’s. Spike merely saluted.

“Don’t forget about tomorrow,” Fluttershy said with a ernest smile. Sunset recalled her promise to help Fluttershy prepare for an interview, and was glad of the reminder.

“You got it,” Sunset replied, shooting her a finger gun and a wink. Fluttershy glowed, smile widening, and left.

The meeting was a setback, but not catastrophic. Sunset had to repeat that in her head a few times, even while munching on her cookie. Her tongue caught a hair follicle, and with a grimace, pulled it out. It was Pink. Sunset wasn’t surprised, though slightly put off.

“Do you need to be somewhere, Sunset?” Rarity asked. She tucked a hand mirror into her bag before shouldering it.

“No, why?” Sunset said, taking another bite.

“I was commissioned to work on a chandelier for the Fall Formal, and I’m at a very critical juncture. Would you mind helping me? It’ll only be but a few minutes, darling.”

“Oh, sure, I’m not busy,” Sunset said. She shoved the rest of the cookie into her mouth. It was a good cookie after all.

“I merely have to attach the ornaments,” Rarity said, presenting an array of gem-like glass pieces on the table. Each was cut differently of varying shapes, delicately spaced from one another on a silk cloth, and all had a gleam that rivaled actual diamonds. Nearby hung a collection of wires twisting and gnarled together like the roots of a tree. The metal stand supporting it was flimsy, and because the pieces were still glass, Sunset understood why Rarity needed assistance. She kept her focus on Rarity, keeping any other thoughts from invading. A lump formed in Sunset’s throat.

On the way to the art room, where the chandelier remained, Sunset had seen two more phantoms. One that had slid through a crowd of classmates, somehow, and another that stood at the end of the hall, disappearing before Sunset even thought of getting closer. Both times, Sunset had to drag her mind away from speculating on them. Handling an easily breakable chandelier with painstakingly crafted - and expensive - glass pieces was not something to take lightly.

Rarity hummed, working the metal wires while scrutinizing each glass piece.

“If you could,” Rarity beckoned, glued to the chandelier. “I simply need only you to watch the stand as I work. Not a thrilling job, mind you, but the slightest teeter can destroy the ornaments.”

“Yeah,” Sunset said, scratching the back of her head. “You sure you want me for this? If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly been… attentive lately.”

“Oh, pish posh,” Rarity said, opening a nearby drawer to pull out a pair of pliers. With a flourish, she twirled them in her palm before facing Sunset again, hands at her hips. “While your attention skills have been sorely lacking, keeping a stand upright hardly requires it. An extra pair of hands will reduce accidents too.”

It was a surprisingly sound reason, one Sunset was content with as she positioned herself on the other side of the table. The stand was attached to a wooden platform, and with a quick shake, it held together, if wobbly. Watching it wasn’t going to be enough, and the others were in use for other art projects, so there was no replacing it either.

“Keep it still now,” Rarity said, already holding a glass piece, squinting at the chandelier, “and I’ll work my own magic.”

Sunset gripped the stand with both hands, and watched Rarity bring one of the smaller fragments to the farthest reaching wire. Her fingers moved like water, smoothly adjusting the wire to encircle the glass to set it in place without marring it. Metalworking was hardly her specialty, but her design and artistic eye never failed.

“So about this, eh, phantom,” Rarity said. Her focus was solely on the chandelier, but glanced to Sunset occasionally. “Are you certain it’s an actual phantom? Of the ghostly sort? It could very well be someone following you. Not everyone is still fond of you, unfortunately.”

The memory incident with Wallflower Blush came to mind and made Sunset’s head hot. However, she kept her cool and remembered the facts, clear as day.

“You can’t see him, remember?” Sunset said, raising a brow. “Pretty sure that’s an indication.”

“That’s just it,” Rarity said, halting her work, “We can’t, but you can. Perhaps it is on purpose.”

“It’s not like that,” Sunset said hastily. Defending this phantom came out of the blue, and she reeled in her feelings. Keep to the facts. “It’s complicated. He appears in random places, and doesn’t really do anything.”

“He appears?”

“Yeah, it’s a guy.”

Rarity hummed and didn’t respond, getting back to the chandelier. There was conflict in her expression. It showed in her pacing, deliberately holding a piece in place for a few seconds. A lull formed as the minutes passed. Sunset found herself exploring the room. Sets of newly fashioned art pieces held by other metal stands, the spotless tables that smelled of cleaner, and the clock on that wall refusing to go any faster. Her wrists ached from holding the stand for so long.

“Have you thought of bringing a date to the Fall Formal?” Rarity suddenly asked. Sunset had to process that question before looking to her. A sparkle in her eye emerged. A sort of liveliness that Sunset can only associate with these kinds of subjects. She had to hand it to Rarity, she was good at changing the subject.

“Not in the slightest,” Sunset said, a sly smirk emerging.

“A shame,” Rarity said without faltering. “A year since the last Fall Formal and not a single person caught your interest?”

Sunset shifted her elbows to lean on them, still smiling, “One or two, maybe. But ever since Flash Sentry dumped me, I never really got back into dating.”

Rarity tutted while waving a hand, “Forget all the boyfriend-girlfriend dynamics, first of all. This is for the Fall Formal, a one night event. No need to be bogged down by a relationship. It’s the fun of choice and what-ifs.”

“This would be my first real Fall Formal,” Sunset thought aloud. She caught herself and chuckled. Rarity was actually getting to her. “And what about you? Have anyone on mind for a date?”

“No, but that’s why I ask,” Rarity said with a humorous grunt. “This chandelier is a prop for a photo shoot at the Fall Formal. Portraits, friends, even couples. It has me wondering what we could do to spice up this Fall Formal.”

She meant to continue but stopped herself, clearing her throat and angling closer to the chandelier.

Sunset hadn’t thought of it that way, frowning. She bowed her head to stare into one of the glass pieces, a teardrop shape with her reflection. Accompanying her friends around was enough, but as Rarity stated, there was fun in going with someone special. Just for the night. At the very least, it was an idea to play with.

And there was the phantom. Its reflection putting him right behind Sunset, moving around wildly. Sunset spun around, still holding the stand, to see it dancing. Dancing! He pumped his legs up, arms matching as though in tune. A simple jig, but he was happy about it. His smile was bright, and his eyes were ocean blue, and his hair was spiky brown, and Sunset was shocked.

“Sunset!” Rarity shouted. Sunset faced the chandelier in time to see a large piece of glass slip and crack against the table before sliding off and smashing onto the floor. Glass skittered across the room as a horrible grip took a hold of Sunset. Her stomach flipped and her throat was tight.

Nobody moved, and the seconds ticked on, and Sunset didn’t know what to do with herself. Give an apology, an explanation, an excuse, a promise; too much swirled in her head, making her dizzy. What was worse was the phantom had disappeared, as though it wasn’t responsible.

“Rarity,” Sunset said, finally having the courage to pull her gaze to her. She felt a tremble through her body seeing how heartbroken she was. “I thought I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Rarity muttered, her words slurring together. Her foot nudged a large fragment of glass. “Just the, um, the c-centerpiece that was very difficult to acquire. Nothing that can’t be…”

Sunset clutched her hands, feeling her anger build up and directed at herself. As though automatically, she stepped over the glass, hearing a crunch when she misstepped, and headed for the door.

“Sunset,” Rarity spoke, but it was a whisper, barely holding in her grief. Sunset walked the halls. Her chest was tight, muscles tense, and all that was on her mind was that phantom dancing without a care in the world.

There was an immediate regret when Sunset slammed the door to her home shut. She had left Rarity alone to clean the mess up, and worse hadn’t done anything to rectify the broken ornament. The centerpiece of all things. Standing at the door, staring listlessly to the opposite wall, Sunset had only herself to blame. Not the phantom, just her.

The heaviness in her chest hadn’t loosened, and as she made her way through her room, it tightened and strangled her. She climbed the stairs to the loft, where her bed resided, and plopped onto the mattress, face buried in the sheets.

All she had to do was stay focused, keep the stand up. She couldn’t even do that. If the phantom had milled around like usual, maybe she could have ignored it, but it had danced. Why it chose to dance was beyond her. It made no sense, but the phantom itself was nonsensical to begin with. Then she had finally gotten a good look at the phantom. Sunset flipped to her back, wrist resting on her forehead as she reviewed what she saw, if to distance herself from the guilt.

His features were young, more so than she expected. His eyes were the biggest factor. They stood out against his darker hair and clothing. There was also the silver crown necklace. Probably the only defining item on him. She tried to link it to something associated with her, mainly Twilight’s crown. But that was gone, having merged with the Tree of Harmony. She hit a blank, and looped back to the broken centerpiece.

Sunset groaned. She needed to distract herself, better than last time anyway. The phantoms only appeared at Canterlot High, and she was immeasurably grateful for that.

Sitting up, she reached for her magic journal and crossed her legs. It fell open on her lap to the last written page, a pencil wedged in the spine. It was a discussion on possible causes for Equestrian magic leaking into Sunset’s world. Which devolved into playful banter over the pros of each of their worlds.

Sunset allowed herself a smirk. There was reassurance in speaking with Twilight, like a warm blanket that comforted and protected her. That same reassurance was at her fingertips, but at the same time, guilt still gripped her insides and refused to let go. She took the pencil and eyed the empty page. A pit of uncertainty stirred in her as she raced to find the words to start off.

Straight to the point. That was what Sunset decided with. Nodding, she took a deep breath and wrote:

Dear Twilight,
There’s this phantom at Canterlot High. It appears randomly - walking, running, dancing! - and only I can see it. If you have any advice or info on this, I’d really like to hear it.

She thought to continue, add more details, but stopped herself. The lead of the pencil pressed against the paper, but couldn’t bring herself to continue. A minute passed, waiting for a response, and when there was none, Sunset grunted and set the journal aside. Twilight wasn’t available at every waking moment. It didn’t unwind her tension, but patience was a virtue.

Sunset set about to get ready to sleep. Even if Twilight got back to her and gave her a solution, the long day had taken its toll, and Sunset wanted to relax to some degree.

The book vibrated and pulsed with purple. Sunset, dressed in her pajamas, flew up the flight of stairs and dove onto her bed. Her toothbrush was still in her mouth, as was the foaming paste. She tossed open the book to find words write themselves into her journal. The familiar purple glow was like a lighthouse in a stormy sea.

Sunset! Glad to hear from you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a phenomenon. Phantoms following you around? Sounds scary. I’ll read around to find something useful. The restricted section at the Canterlot library might hold an idea on the subject. Writing to Princess Celestia and Princess Luna couldn’t hurt either. Or Starswirl the Bearded!

The list went on for a while, referencing other places in Equestria and a handful of ponies Sunset wasn’t familiar with. She made a mental note to ask about them later. Skimming through it wasn’t ideal, but when Sunset got through a full page of it, she knew she was in good hands.

That’s all I could come up with at the moment. Luckily I have plenty of time to help. It’s pretty boring when there isn’t any excitement, though I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. In the meantime, you should try to gather as much information as you can on your end. How long does it stay around? Is there a pattern to what it does? Hopefully it can provide some insight.

Sunset shifted the toothbrush in her mouth, contemplating. It wasn’t an idea that Sunset had considered, given she juggled so many other responsibilities already. However, putting in all of her effort would get it out of the way and onto more important prospects. Sunset wrote as much and gave her thanks before closing the book. Her eyes refused to tear away from the cover, mulling over how to gather more information.

Only one person came to mind.

Sunset clenched the clipboard and pen in her hands. Pacing the school lobby mitigated her annoyance, but every glance down the hall spiked her anxiety. She reviewed what little notes she had written to calm herself down. They consisted of a handful of sightings of the phantom and his activity. They were more frequent as the day went on, and his actions varied with each appearance. Which meant while it was random, it was escalating. To what, Sunset had no clue.

She flipped the paper to the one underneath, growling.

“Where is she?” Sunset said, pulling away from the clipboard to see Pinkie Pie stand unabashedly close. Sunset felt her heart leap into her throat as she jerked back. Pinkie was unfazed.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Pinkie asked, tilting her head to the side.

Sunset straightened herself out, heart still beating rapidly, “Given my circumstances, yeah, sort of.”

“That’s what I’m here for, right?” Pinkie said, waving her phone. “You texted saying you needed assistance from good ol’ Pinkamena Diane Pie for your paranormal activities.”

Sunset gave her a strange look, one even Pinkie couldn’t ignore. She looked at her phone and sidled up to Sunset, scrunching her face, “You did send this text, right?”

“Wait, your full name is Pinkamena Diane Pie?” Sunset asked, incredulous.

“Yeah, I never told you?” Pinkie asked back, to which Sunset shook her head. “Huh. Feels like one of those things you’d already know.”

Sunset had to process that, but shoved it to the back of her head. She held up the clipboard for Pinkie to see.

“Here’s what I got so far. Not much, but that’s why I needed your help.”

Pinkie snatched the clipboard, twirling around on one leg before flinging the clipboard up high in one fluid movement. It spiraled in the air and plummeted into Pinkie’s waiting hands, and she dug into its contents, a finger sliding down the notes.

“Yeah, okay, okay, seems right,” she muttered, her hair bouncing with each nod. She flipped to the next page and gasped dramatically. “It’s a boy!?”

“Is that all anyone focuses on?” Sunset snapped, throwing her arms in the air. “Why’s that so surprising?!”

The passing classmates stared at her, some whispering to others. Pinkie hunched down with just enough hurt to get across to Sunset. It stung, so much so that Sunset wanted to disappear like the phantoms. She made herself small, blushing, and reigned herself in to settle her flared nerves. She took in a breath, held it, then released it. Wherever that overreaction came from, she could keep it down, keep herself composed. The classmates slowly carried on, but it didn’t stop the sense of embarrassment from leaving.

Pinkie held out the clipboard with an apologetic smile. Sunset returned it, taking the clipboard and holding it to her chest. Having it close and in her possession led her to focus on the task at hand.

“All right,” Sunset said. Her face was set and determined. “The reason I asked you specifically, Pinkie, was because this phantom has no discernible pattern. In essence, it’s completely random. I need you to be yourself to effect the phantom. It’s a long shot, but I figure it’s worth a try, see what comes from it.” She patted her pocket. “I’m going to try and catch a picture with my phone, hopefully get something new out of it. Then try my powers on him. You with me so far?”

“Exactly what do you expect me to do?” Pinkie asked, completely baffled as she looked herself over. “Giggling at the ghosties is my specialty, but I think I need to see it first. And can you touch the ghosty to use your powers? Does it work like that?”

They were valid questions, causing Sunset to hesitate. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted Pinkie to do. Having her natural weirdness around wasn’t a surefire assurance against the phantom. She may have to dismiss her help, but it put a pit in her stomach thinking about that.

“You know what?” Pinkie said, knocking Sunset out of her fretting. In her hands was a large butterfly net, and she waved it around like it was a flag. “Just say the word and I’ll net this phantom boy, even if he is invisible!”

Sunset dumped the idea of forgoing Pinkie Pie. Just having her around to ease the pressure was enough. She smiled, relaxing her posture, and reread the second page of her clipboard. It held general information on the phantom, mostly his appearance, but also noting his attitude. Dancing was certainly different, but it was how happy the phantom was doing it that stood out. There was no awareness from him, as far as Sunset could tell. Which meant either the phantom projected the actual person, wherever he was, or something more far fetched.

Sunset glanced around the lobby, and found a phantom fly overhead. She balked, nearly dropping her clipboard, as he gracefully glided from one side to the other before vanishing over the railing on the second floor.

Sunset immediately took off. She maneuvered around the other students, and those she couldn’t, she bumped past with a hasty apology. The second floor. That was where he was. He might disappear again, he might not. Her head filled with these comments and objectives, blaring like sirens and demanding results. She reached the stairs and surged up them, two at a time. She slipped but pulled herself up before she fell, still going.

By the time she reached the spot overlooking the lobby, she saw no sign of the phantom. Her breaths were ragged, but kept herself quiet, eyes darting around.

“Sunset!” Pinkie cried from the ground floor, jumping up and down. “Did you see him?! Is he dancing again? Tell me he’s dancing!”

It confused Sunset how Pinkie knew about that before remembering she had read her notes earlier.

Sunset made to reply, but the phantom floated straight at her, swallowing her words. She recoiled as it passed through her.

A tornado filled to the brim with dark beings. They twisted and contorted around each other. Their beady yellow eyes pierced the heart. It was hopeless. They were gone.

Sunset stumbled back, catching herself on the lockers. Her mind couldn’t wrap around what she saw, what she felt. It was the phantom’s feelings, but it was skewed, incomplete. And the monsters… they were something else. Not Equestrian in the least. She turned to the hallway then back to the lobby to find the floating phantom gone.

“What’s going on?” Pinkie yelled. “Did you trip? Did the ghosty get you? You know I don’t like being left in the dark!”

Sunset shook away the vision, and pulled herself to the railing. On the ground floor was another phantom, standing beside Pinkie Pie. There was a hint of panic that she quelled as best she could. There was no need for it, not when her friend was there.

“Pinkie, he’s next to you!” Sunset called, pointing over to her. “See if you can interact with him, affect his behavior!”

Pinkie jumped back, holding the butterfly net at the ready. Her head zipped around like a paranoid bird. Sunset studied him, especially his expression. It was stoic, neutral. There was no nuance to it, just plain and devoid of anything.

Sunset got a better look at his clothes though. Capri pants, glove-like gauntlets, and overly large shoes with yellow straps. Other minute details were swept aside when Pinkie leapt past him, swinging her net like mad.

“Begone, spirit!” she cried. Students gave her space, some having to duck or leap back to avoid getting hit. Sunset wanted to yell at her to stop, yet she was frozen in place, waiting for the phantom to move. Until another phantom strolled past, hands behind his head. Everything Sunset thought she knew about him went out the window. Her gaze shifted back and forth between them, expecting some discrepancy, some mistake.

“Can you at least take the picture?” Pinkie said, out of breath with both hands on her knees. “It’ll… it’ll last longer.”

Sunset felt a jolt through her system and hurriedly dug through her pocket. Her hands were shaking, and her eyes never left the two phantoms. Neither had changed in their actions, one still stood solemnly in the open while the other headed for the front doors. Grasping her phone, finally, Sunset pulled it out, aimed, and snapped a picture.

“Yes!” she said, saving the photo. When she looked back, both phantoms were replaced with one dancing and another waving a hand in farewell. Sunset slapped a hand to her forehead. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“What!?” Pinkie yelled, cupping a hand over her ear.

Sunset clasped the railing, “Nothing, Pinkie!”

“What is all this commotion?”

The voice of Vice Principal Luna filled Sunset with dread, eyes wide. Her stomach flipped seeing her storm into the lobby, the students parting to let her through. Pinkie had the guts to stand her ground, holding the net rigidly in front of her.

“A commotion contest?” Pinkie tried with a shrug. Luna sighed in exasperation. Sunset pulled her phone up to watch the phantoms and check the picture at the same time. Pinkie was somehow a blur among the sea of students, but there wasn’t any sign of the phantoms. They really were all in her head. Sunset clenched her teeth, her breathing picked up, and fought the urge to scream at the world to let her get something concrete out of it all!

“Sunset Shimmer!” Luna said. And there it was, the words Sunset was afraid of, wincing at the authoritative tone. She looked to Luna, knowing she would lose sight of the two phantoms, to see her wave to come down, none too pleased.

Her hand ran down her face before finicking with her jacket sleeve. She didn’t have to look over to know the phantoms were gone, but did so anyway with a sliver of hope. One did remain, but it walked along the wall. The only one to stick around for the consequences.

“Taking pictures of phantoms?” Luna asked, baffled. Her arms were crossed, and she towered over Sunset with a disciplinary eye. She was glad the lobby was empty to avoid the gossip. “Girls, I may have come across a lot of magic - more than I’d like, I’m afraid - but this seems-”

“Interesting?” Pinkie piped up. Sunset closed her eyes, silently begging her to stop talking. “Vague? Spooky? Perhaps charming from a certain point of view?”

Luna leaned forward, glaring at Pinkie. If she wasn’t intimidating before, she certainly was at the moment.

“Outlandish,” she deadpanned. Pinkie cracked an uneasy smile, but it died as quickly as it came.

“Vice Principal Luna,” Sunset said, realizing she sounded frantic, “I know this is absurd, even by magic standards, but I swear it’s the truth. I’ve been… haunted by these phantoms for days. We were looking for a solution, and it got out of hand.”

“I do believe you, Ms. Shimmer,” Luna said solemnly. Through her hard exterior, a soft expression escaped before she shook her head. “However, I don’t want any excuses for your disruption. Unless these phantoms are a danger to the student body, I can’t easily let you continue without some form of punishment.” She paused, as though rethinking her next words, then crossed her arms. “You understand, don’t you?”

Sunset tried to swallow the lump in her throat, “Yeah, I get it.”

“Two days detention, starting tomorrow afternoon,” Luna said. She eyed Pinkie, who shriveled. “For the both of you.”

“Detention?” Sunset asked, distraught. Luna raised a brow, almost asking her to follow that path. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but Sunset felt her head fill with a longing to finish this escapade, think on her friend’s future, her future. “B-but I have so much to do. The Fall Formal is coming up, and Rarity-”

“Sunset,” Luna said, resting a hand on her shoulder to silence her. There was remorse, but her tone brokered no argument. “You have a lot on your plate, I know, but one must account for their actions, even if it is for a greater good.”

Sunset took a step back, giving a curt nod. In the corner of her eye, she caught the phantom still walking in a circle. Luna reminded Pinkie to pass on her responsibilities for the Fall Formal to another student, but it was background noise to Sunset. It was piling up, one issue after another. She agonized over these phantoms, only to come out with nothing. Luna left them, each footstep clicking from her shoes until they faded away. The lobby felt much bigger and emptier than before.

“Um, Sunset?” Pinkie said, so quiet she might as well not have spoken. There was a spark in Sunset, lifting her phone to see that worthless photo. “I know we didn’t get anything today, at least I don’t think we got anything.” Sunset deleted the photo, insides boiling. “But I wanted to say that I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” The phantom made another loop around the lobby, and another appeared, floating across, and yet another phantom jumped to and fro. Sunset trembled. “The phantoms can wait, right? We can take a break-”

“You don’t get it, Pinkie!” Sunset snapped. She whipped around, shoving a finger at Pinkie. Her blood burned and her head was heavy. “They're everywhere I look, and they won’t leave me alone, and it’s getting worse! There are three phantoms here right now, and I’m not sure if I can take it anymore! Am I supposed to live with these things harassing me for the rest of my life?! Cause I don’t have anything to stop them! Can you just take this seriously for once!?”

Sunset gasped for air. There was a long pause. One second, two, then Sunset’s breath hitched. She paled, all the heat in her evaporated to leave her cold. It was worse to see Pinkie Pie, frightened and on the verge of tears. Her arms were held close to her chest, but she didn’t turn away. She kept her watered eyes solely on Sunset.

“Pinkie…” Sunset said, coming out as a croak. She reached out, but Pinkie Pie pulled away. Seeing her so quiet and reclusive sent a pang through Sunset. She had crossed a line, and had no idea what to say or do. It shouldn’t have been hard - Pinkie was her friend - yet she merely watched her trudge to the door, suppressing a sob. It left Sunset with three phantoms going about like there was absolutely nothing wrong.

“Hello, this is Fluttershy… Oh! Um, I’m not here right now. Maybe later. Just leave a message at the tone-beep noise… B-bye!”

A dull beep followed, and Sunset inwardly groaned, “Fluttershy, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot about preparing for your interview. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We can meet before school starts tomorrow. The afternoon won’t work, I’ve got… detention. I’ll fill you in later. I hope you get this soon.”

After ending the call, Sunset stared at her phone before gently banging it against her head, “Stupid!”

Five texts and two missed calls from Fluttershy. How Sunset had lapsed on her promise was not hard to figure out, but left her exhausted. First Pinkie Pie, then Fluttershy. And the day before with Rarity too. The walk home was unwelcome, but there wasn’t any phantoms to bother her. It was a hollow victory.

The overcast sky matched her mood, and was sure rain would come the next day. A day she had to wake up early if she wanted to meet up with Fluttershy. Even as she slid through the door of her home, she couldn’t shake the contempt she had towards herself. Her bag slid off her shoulder and onto the floor, spilling its contents, including her magic journal. She told herself Twilight had an answer, a silver lining, and scooped it up before falling into her couch.

For a while, Sunset sat and stared at her television screen, seeing her muddied reflection stare back. Her mind told her to write to Twilight again, but she wasn’t even sure what to talk about anymore. The phantoms were more frequent, half her friends were upset with her, and above all else, she was tired. So very tired.

She opened the book, smoothing out the page.

Sunset, I looked at what was on hoof and couldn’t find anything on your phantoms yet. There’s still hope though! Princess Celestia wrote back to me that she had an encounter with a phantom some time before Princess Luna’s return. Not sure if it’s connected in any way, shape, or form, but hope! HOPE! Let me know how things are on your end and I’ll try to get back to you as soon as possible.

As Twilight had said, there was hope. Sunset took her pen, but faltered. The phantom had felt the opposite, hopelessness. Maybe it was a reflection of herself. It would explain his pervading appearances. It was her fears manifesting to plunge her into despair. A part of her pondered whether it was punishment for her wrong doings so long ago, and another part of her figured she had gone crazy.

She set the book aside and slid down to lie across the couch. The whole dilemma was a mess, one she didn’t know if she could resolve with friends. Even when she tried with one of her friends, it was disastrous. She closed her eyes to see Pinkie crying in her mind’s eye, and remembered one of the questions Sunset had asked her in her rage.

In her house, alone, she may very well have to live with these phantoms for the rest of her life.

As Sunset had predicted, it was raining, hard. The path to school was riddled with puddles, and she ended up soaking wet, having lost her umbrella. Her eyes were heavy from drowsiness. She wasn’t a morning person to begin with, but had also tossed and turned all night without a wink of sleep. The dark clouds above were the same in her head, dark and muggy. She took in a breath of the crisp air. If Fluttershy hadn’t agreed to meet up early in the morning, Sunset wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

Her gaze drifted to the houses. She had to concentrate on her tips on interviews, have advice at the ready, but the phantoms distracted her even away from the school. Every step closer mounted her worry, knowing they were there. Not malicious, perhaps, but still never ending.

“What do I say to Pinkie?” Sunset asked herself. A whole new worry tightened a knot inside her. There had been no contact with Pinkie nor Rarity since last they met. She gripped the strap of her bag, wanting to get some comfort out of it.

When the school came in sight, Sunset froze, unable to breathe.

The phantoms were everywhere. There wasn’t one or two frolicking in the grass, but dozens of them scattered over the building. Some danced in circles around the old foundation that once held the rearing horse statue, others held their heads up with a fist over their chest. Phantoms zigzagged along the walls, and the windows showcased more sitting in chairs. Her eyes trailed upward to see them fly across the school in a seamless line. Three of them twirled around the flagpole at the top of the glass dome on the roof.

Sunset struggled to move, unsure how to respond. There was so many of them, so many of this one person. Something clicked in her head, and she hurried along the sidewalk to the school grounds. So many questions once again vied to be answered, but one stood out the most.

“Why?” Sunset asked, unable to look at any one place for long. She spotted a phantom lie in the grass, and another with his hands behind his head, relaxed. “Why is this happening?” She turned to find a phantom running at her. “Who are you?”

He passed through her.

“A real leader knows that destiny is beyond his control, and accepts that.”

The voice was full of conviction, and definitely not intended for her. Sunset had never heard it before, but there was something to it. She regained her bearings and glossed over the other phantoms with a sense of wonder.

“Who are you?” she snapped. There was too many. She spun around to avoid running into one, making her way through, but one fell from the sky and through her.

A rocky desert strewn with swords. Twelve figures in black coats, their hoods up to shroud their faces. An old man stands at the center, bald with devilish eyes and pointed ears.

Sunset felt fear. Her legs gave out, but held herself up by her hands and knees.

“Stop it,” Sunset hissed. Her geode necklace dangled underneath her. She grabbed it, clutching it, and seethed. “Leave me alone!”

There was a flash from her geode, blinding her. For a moment, there was silence, then when her eyesight returned, the rain came crashing down around her again. Slowly, she lifted her head, stunned. All the phantoms were gone, no matter where Sunset looked. She pushed herself back up, limbs feeling heavy, still holding her geode. Her eyes eventually fell to the statue foundation.

A single phantom was left behind. He floated inside the portal, unconscious and serene. Sunset drew closer, preparing for him to jump out or wake up. It was surreal to see him simply stay within the portal, like looking through a window. Wisps swirled around him and weaved over his arms and legs. Sunset reached out and passed through the portal, setting a hand on his short-sleeved jacket. It was smooth under her touch.

It wasn’t another phantom, this was him. The real one. Sunset felt a wave of emotion hit her. Seeing the person behind all the phantoms made her want to lash out.

She could send him through to Equestria. A simple push and he was out of her life. It was an idea that she wanted to follow through. She couldn’t handle it, but Twilight could. She wasn’t busy and had enough experience to know what to do. It was for the better. Sunset could fix things at school, make things right with her friends. Work towards a normal life…

Yet she couldn’t bring herself to push him away.

It wasn’t fair to him. Seeing his gentle face was enough proof of his innocence. There was a reason Sunset saw his phantoms, how he arrived at the portal to her. There was a reason, and Sunset wasn’t about to abandon him because of her misery.

Her hand took hold of the hem of his jacket and she pulled him effortlessly out of the portal.

Author's Note

I haven't posted any of my works in a while, so any and all feedback is appreciated.