Twilight turned as the massive steel doors opened. Her lab coat was on and her hair was tied back, but her frown was one more of worry than concentration.

“How’s it goin’?” Rainbow Dash flashed her friend a grin as she pushed the doors closed behind herself, overstuffed plastic bags in her arms.

Twilight sighed wordlessly, removing and hanging up her coat.

Taking off the black wig and dark glasses that served as her disguise, Rainbow Dash immediately sobered. “That bad, huh?”

“No, it isn’t.” Twilight replied uncomfortably. “Well, not exactly, anyway. That’s not the problem. I just...” Her voice trailed off as she made vague, nervous gestures in the air.

Rainbow gave her a fond, knowing smile. “It’s fine, Twilight. Honest. I just need to get out occasionally, you know?”

“Of course you do! And I certainly wouldn’t want you to just stay indoors all night and day. I just...”

Twilight sighed again, adding, “It’s not your fault. It’s just... for some reason, I just can’t relax when you’re gone. I’m sorry...”

Rainbow Dash flashed her a reassuring grin on her way to their kitchen area, setting down the overstuffed grocery bags. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got this.”

“I know you do, but that’s also my point! I’m fully aware that you’re perfectly capable and responsible... but somehow, knowing that doesn’t help. This isn’t a logical response.”

Throwing herself into a recliner, she went on, “And I know that, too. It’s an emotional response to our situation, not an intellectual one. And it’s also frustrating that knowing that doesn’t help. I’m not some teenaged high-schooler anymore, I should be past this!”

“Well, hey, maybe you just need more time.”

Twilight crossed her arms. “Hmmmph.”

Several moments passed. Eventually, their eyes met, Twilight’s stern look and Rainbow’s undisguised amusement. Then the tension broke apart, spilling giggles between them both.

After a moment, Rainbow Dash suggested, “Maybe I could keep my ears on when I’m out?”

“Yes, but isn’t part of the point for you to get some ‘you time’ without answering to anyone else?”

“Well...”

Twilight rose, giving her friend a rueful smile as she said, “I appreciate the thought. And if you feel like sharing something when you’re out, I’m always happy to hear. But the point is: you need time to yourself in the open, I’m trying to worry less, and it’s still a work in progress on my end. It’s just frustrating, is all.”

“Well, if you think of something I can do to help, let me know, okay?”

“I will.”

Twilight returned to her worktable, and Rainbow Dash continued putting groceries away.

After a few moments, Rainbow said, “Actually, today was pretty cool.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, technically, I was made, sort of. But, it was in a good way,” Rainbow said over her shoulder, stashing dairy goods into the fridge. “Everything but the alcohol was free. The guy at the counter was all, Here, just take it. I’ll write it off. It’s the least I can do. I kept saying, no, we can afford it, but he wouldn’t take my money. So, I guess the Anon-A-Miss streams are working. The civvies already know we’re here to help; we just need to follow through...”

Then, her voice trailed off, and she sighed, hanging her head where she crouched.

“Sorry, Twilight,” she said. “I’m an idiot.”

Twilight Sparkle shook her head from where she stood, back turned. “It’s fine. And you’re not an idiot, not ever in my experience.”

Her voice was almost steady as she continued, “Besides, I can’t expect you to never mention any of the things that Sunset’s done. Or how we and the civilian population might benefit from them.”

Busying herself again, she added, “I appreciate your being considerate, but y-you shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around me. And I agree with you, it was unnecessary, but it was a nice gesture. And a good sign.”

Watching her carefully, Rainbow Dash nodded. “Yeah. Heck, I would have argued more, but if I had it would have drawn attention and maybe gotten him busted. This is how crazy our lives are right now.”

Twilight had to smile. “Yes, but it’s a good kind of crazy.” Then, the smile vanished again as she added, “And without someone like Sunset and her Anon-A-Miss broadcasts, it is unlikely we’d be able to effect the kind of social change we need.”

Finally giving up on trying to keep her hands from fidgeting, Twilight started pacing instead.

“And it’s important that the people know we’re on their side,” she said, her words coming faster and faster as she moved. “And she did help us a lot when we busted you out, that shouldn’t be forgotten!”

Rainbow Dash’s voice was gentle with concern. “Um, Twilight...?”

“Not to mention everything that we went through together, everything we shared, everything we said, everything we planned together, we... we...!”

Twilight’s legs buckled under her and suddenly Rainbow Dash was holding her in a fierce hug, Twilight hugging her back desperately, clinging to her friend as though she were drowning.

“Why am I still doing this?” Twilight sobbed. “Why does it still hurt like this? It was years ago...!”

“You’ve got a right to your pain,” Rainbow Dash said quietly, still holding her. “And you were in a coma, remember? Plus everything else that’s going on. Give yourself time to heal.”

Eventually, the storm passed. Twilight noticed that the two of them were sitting on the couch. And apparently had been for some time.

“Sorry,” Twilight sniffled.

“Hey,” Rainbow Dash smiled, giving her a final squeeze before releasing her, “that’s what friends are for.”

“I, um... I got snot on your shirt,” Twilight said quietly.

Rainbow Dash chuckled. “Shirts wash.”

They both rose. While Rainbow Dash walked to the laundry area, Twilight wiped her eyes a little, then headed back to her worktable, where the tissues were.

“So, anyway, you were looking pretty I’m-just-finishing-stuff-up when I came back,” Rainbow Dash observed, throwing her old shirt into the washing machine. “That means you’ve got it all figured out, right?”

Just as she finished speaking, Twilight happened to very loudly blow her nose. Both women shared a look, and then another brief bout of laughter.

“Well, I have our starting points established,” Twilight said at last, tossing the tissue into the trash, “and my research is for the nonce concluded. As a result, I have good news, more good news, and then bad news.”

“Okay.”

“The first good news is, I’ve tracked down Gabby. He lives in one of the complexes that Trixie owns, so we’ll need to plan carefully to avoid casualties. But we should be able to pick him up as soon as we’re ready.”

Rainbow Dash finished dumping more clothes into the washer, dropped the lid and hit Start. “Awesome. Are we ready now? ‘Cuz I gotta tell ya, I feel pretty ready now.”

“Actually, that brings me to the second good news. I think I’ve isolated the cause of your visual problems. And I believe I have a short-term solution that may eventually lead to a long-term solution.”

Rainbow gave a shrug as she pulled on a clean shirt. “Okay, hit me.”

Twilight produced what looked like a pair of lightweight, tinted sports glasses.

“These should help compensate for your difficulties in seeing long distances,” she said. “It’s not a perfect solution, and you’ll need to get used to using them. They’re kind of like the sewing glasses I made for Rarity. Only, with added correction.”

“Okay,” Rainbow Dash nodded. “So, do I just start wearing ‘em?”

“First, sit back down.”

Rainbow tried not to smirk. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. This could be extremely disorienting.”

Rainbow Dash threw her hands up good-naturedly.

“Okay, fine. Sitting down,” she said, settling back onto the couch. “Now gimme the goods.”

Twilight handed her the glasses, and immediately Rainbow Dash donned them.

“Yeah, okay, so what’s so... woah,” she said, looking around. “Woah.”

“Yes.” Twilight nodded.

Rainbow blinked repeatedly. She looked around the spacious area again, then slowly found herself tilting helplessly sideways. “Wow. Holy crap.”

Twilight nodded again. “Exactly. Give yourself time. It’ll take a little bit, but the brain adjusts to colored lenses and prescription glasses, so it should adjust to this.”

Rainbow Dash blinked again, then made herself refocus on Twilight. “Should?”

Twilight gave a small shrug. “Like I said before, there’s not much peer-reviewed research on the subject.”

“Yeah, okay. That works. Wow. How long should I wear ‘em?”

“No more than an hour, at first,” Twilight answered, turning back to her worktable. “Less if you start feeling strain instead of just disorientation. Also, please let me know when you feel adjusted and you want to walk. You should probably have a spotter at first.”

Rainbow grinned a little sheepishly. “I guess I can’t say anything after coaching you for so long.”

“Nope,” Twilight agreed happily as she worked. “No room to argue.”

Rainbow sighed, then shrugged, pushing herself upright again. “Yeah, okay. I guess that’s fair. But you mentioned a long-term solution?”

“Well, I’ve structured the glasses to encourage adaptation in such a fashion that your eyes and brain should be trained to overcome the effects of your confinement. Over time, you should need them less and less. I can’t guarantee it, but in theory you should eventually be able to dispense with them entirely, and the last little bit of repair should happen automatically at that point.”

“Okay, that is seriously awesome,” Rainbow said, setting the glasses to one side. Then, with a grateful smile, she added, “Thanks, Twilight.”

“Any time.”

Twilight turned to face her again, smiling, a familiar-looking pair of glasses on her own face.

“As I implied before, I added a few additional features,” she said. “Infra-red, thermograph, enhanced night vision, and a binocular zoom feature. And while I was at it, I figured, what the heck, I might as well make another for myself. Minus the medical adjustments, of course.”

“You know, I remember now, you really went overboard when you made Rarity’s set,” Rainbow grinned. “So, you just tacked that extra stuff to mine, right?”

“Uh-huh. In your case, I changed the zoom setting to long range, like I said. I kept mine like the original design, for close-up work. We’ve also got straps to keep them on in a firefight, of course.

“Oh, and I improved our earpieces. They’ll filter out high decibel noise better than the old set, and we’ll have one in each ear instead of one-plus-earplug.”

Rainbow Dash gave a puzzled frown. “Be-cause...?”

“Because even though it’s on a broadcast frequency, with the stereo settings I’ve added they’ll give a sense of direction. So, we can tell where we are from one another if we get separated. Even in a firefight.”

“Okay, that’s weirdly awesome. And the guns?”

“Almost ready. They’re not guns, though, they’re stunners.”

“Whatever,” Rainbow Dash said, reclining contentedly. “What kind of ammo are we talking about?”

“Well, to oversimplify, each stunner has something akin to an integral micro cold-fusion battery, only it runs off of magical energy instead of a traditional atomic reaction. Their stacks contain self-terminating safeguards, of course, but that shouldn’t matter since they passively draw from the aura of any nearby power sources compatible with their energy matrices.”

Rainbow Dash had to smile. “Uh-huh. See, this is what’s so great about living with you, Twilight. I’m always learning something. Like, this new usage of the word ‘oversimplify’ that I’d never heard before.”

Twilight gave a good-natured eyeroll in response, adding, “By which I mean, they’ll never run out of energy, so long as they’re used by or near either a being or an object of significant magical power,”

Rainbow’s eyebrows went up. “Really.”

“Really. I got the idea from the magic detecting amulet that I built, years ago. So, it’s really more innovation than invention.”

“Rrrrright,” Rainbow Dash said, uncertainly. “So, no changing clips? Ever?”

“Exactly. The stunners can overheat, in a sense, but there’s a gauge along the top so you’ll know how close it is to temporarily shutting down. And there’s an additional cooling mechanism that you can activate manually if desired. It’s a button on the side.”

“Huh. Okay, wait, how does that even work? I mean, if it’s magic, then why...?”

“Well, you see—” Twilight began happily.

“Nope,” Rainbow interrupted, holding up one hand. “Nope, nope, nope. Never mind, not important, not gonna ask. You say it does the thing, Iiiii believe you.”

Twilight giggled, but then turned serious again.

“Anyway, that’s all the good news,” she said.

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah, I was wondering what the bad news was.”

“Well, I’ve analyzed the samples of Oblivion you gave me.”

“Yeah? And?”

“It’s... not a drug.”

Rainbow Dash frowned. “Uh, what? What do you mean, it’s not a drug?”

“It’s not a drug,” Twilight repeated. “Not in any conventional sense. It’s a potion.”

Rainbow Dash paused, mouth still open, then closed it again.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, shit.”

“Yes.”

“Waitaminute, though. How is that even possible? The plinth is broken. Gone!”

“I don’t think that matters,” Twilight said. “Even on our world, alchemy can be powerful when properly applied. It still requires magical energy, of course, but the execution revolves more around skill and knowledge than personal power. At the same time, the results, if done properly, can be amazing. Especially in the fields of alteration and transmutation, and most especially in charm and other mind-based effects.”

“So, it’s... not pony magic.”

“Probably not. Granted, human magic is almost always intangible. Dealing with mental or spiritual matters, probability manipulation, that kind of thing. But there are exceptions, and alchemy is one of them. Properly done, it can... kind of bend the rules, I guess, for lack of a better term.”

Cocking her head, she added, “Still, in a sense, I suppose we should be glad.”

“How so?”

“Remember, alchemy still requires energy. It’s still magic. So, considering that we’re dealing with an alchemist who can not only create something like this, but also has the sheer raw power to just crank it out in enough quantity to affect a city’s drug trade... maybe we should be glad they decided to create Oblivion, instead of doing something far worse.”

“As far as we know.”

Twilight’s expression turned sour. “Well... yes. As far as we know.”

Rainbow Dash sighed, putting her head in her hands. “Okay, so back to the point. What I’m hearing is, basically, we can’t just cut off the supply for this stuff.”

“Correct.”

“We have to take out the cook. Nothing else will even slow it down.”

“Also correct. On the other hand, when we take down the alchemist, in theory no one else can replicate it. Remove the maker, remove the product.”

Looking up at her friend cautiously, Rainbow Dash asked, “Okay, so why is this bad news? Sounds pretty straight-forward to me. No more cook, no more Oblivion.”

“Because I think I know who the alchemist is,” Twilight said uncomfortably. “If I’m right, it’s someone who’s been studying magic for years. Someone who, in defiance of all odds or expectations, even started manifesting magic on a major physical level back when we were students.

“Someone who, when the chips were down, succeeded in an act of teleportation, one of the most difficult acts of non-ritual magic in either world. And since then, she’s had only time and opportunity to grow as a magician. And Apple Bloom warned us that she might have gained real magic in the interim.”

For a moment, Rainbow Dash just sat with her face in her hands. Then she leaned back again, staring at the ceiling with a sigh.

“Well, shit,” she said. “Just when I was hoping this would be simple.”

“Yes,” Twilight agreed, sitting in another chair nearby. “Granted, we can probably find her opium suppliers, once we get to Gabby. And if she’s got any local farms, we can destroy them, too. And of course we can imprison her dealers, try to cripple her supply chain. But at the end of the day, Oblivion won’t be off the street until we take down Trixie herself.”

Looking even more uncomfortable, she added, “Which also means dealing with whatever is giving her this level of magical power.”

Rainbow Dash nodded, putting her new glasses back on. “Uh-huh. Any ideas what that might be?”

Twilight looked away.

“Just one,” she said quietly. “And if I’m right, this may be partially our fault.”

Author's Note

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Ending Credits: Sound and Vision, by David Bowie