I, Me

by TheDragonoyd

Rating: mature
Tags: Profanity, Violence, Death, Narcotics, Twilight Sparkle, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Comedy, Suicide / Self Harm
Length: 6209

Twilight Sparkle, a royal prodigy born into political neopotism and affluence-induced sociopathy, learns how to hop across dimensions.

Twilight Sparkle, a royal prodigy born into political neopotism and affluence-induced sociopathy, learns how to hop across dimensions--a forbidden technique. She is now confronted with the subsequent existential nausea, and deals with it through contrived machinations and angsty, while meeting some friends along the way.

Published 2020-06-05 16:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-07-02 18:39:14 UTC

Intravenous Ennui

It’s about 3 a.m., and virtually all of Ponyville is asleep—all of the town, except for one mare in particular. This nocturnal creature is a purple unicorn known as Twilight Sparkle, the local librarian. She spends most of her nights mindlessly browsing the Pony Internet; watching anime and searching for a reason not to commit suicide.

However, this night is different. Tonight, her suicide-daydreaming may become a reality. After all, for some elusive motive, there was an interdimensional accident involving the Spirit of Chaos, and the Mane 5 had to embark on yet another series of world-saving shenanigans. God, how much Twilight hate those attention-seeking hero-wannabes.

Canterlot, alongside other more populated urban centers, were evacuated so the dangerous matter can be dealt with; what occasioned a populational influx in the smaller towns like Ponyville. Both the ponies from the big metropolitan areas and the ones living in the more remote townships seized this opportunity to meet friends and family.

That’s not the case for Twilight.

She spent all day blasting loud death metal on her earbuds just so she could ignore the vibrant state Ponyville was currently in. And, when night fell, she could only think about abandoning the outside world once again—bliss. Ever since her scholarship on Celestia’s Private Magic School ended, and Twilight had to find a menial job somewhere cheap so she can avoid homelessness, that’s pretty much all she does.

As a filly, Twilight fantasized about having a grand poetic live—having adventures and experiencing the joys of friendship. But she never made an effort to be that outstanding; only quietly desiring that a group of special ponies would talk to her and initiate something, in spite of her social reclusion and obtuse nature.

While consuming off-brand alcoholic energy drinks, and picturing how intolerably lively and nightmarishly cheerful tomorrow will be for everyone else but her, an impulsive thought suddenly had taken over Twilight—she had to kill herself. The pain of loneliness and existential insignificance was too much to bear. Today is the night—and what a beautiful night to put this long-cherished action into fruition.

Twilight effortfully leaves her room, stumbling around the house in search of some kind of inspiration to fuel her suicidal planning. As if in a moment of ingenuity, she decides to concentrate all her magic power and cast it towards a mirror, so the resulting death ray would bounce back simulating a shotgun blast directly into her face.

“Take note, Spike. This idea is certain of bearing results!”

Twilight says to no one in particular—she sometimes fosters the fantasy of having a friendly helper named Spike, for some reason.

She proceeds to head towards the bathroom; ready to blow her brains out as a desperate last resort to put an end to her delusional suffering. While focusing her power, she remembers of all the missed opportunities and selfish life-choices which landed her in this situation. Twilight resists the nostalgic saudade that commonly precedes self-inflicted death, casting her seppuku spell in the spur of the moment.

A sudden change in air pressure, accompanied by a strident confluence of noise, takes place. Twilight, due to the intense shock inherent of the circumstances, falls to the ground.

But she still is conscious.

After crying silently for a while, covering her face in fear, the suicidal unicorn gets euphoric. “Wait… Why can I still think? Oh, no. Did I get isekai’ed to another world instead of dying? No, worse! I most likely became an all-powerful entity like Dr. Manhattan.”

Twilight’s crying intensifies, “No! That’s too much pressure! I just wanted to cease my existence, not to finally have my chance at a glorious, protagonist-like life. Oh, Celestia, now I fully realize the impractical foolishness of yarning for a special destiny; please take me back!”

Twilight feels a force moving her hooves away from her face—too scared to resist, she lets it happen. Amidst her blurry field of vision, she sees a figure standing in front of her. By the silhouette, it looked like an alicorn.

“Celestia, is that you? Did you come to me because I attempted the sin of taking my own life? I’m so sorry, Celestia! Please don’t turn me into a statue for your Blasphemy Garden! Please!”

“Hey, hey. Calm down,” said the mysterious pony. “I’m not Celestia at all. Are you alright? You almost hurt yourself back there.”

Twilight attempts to recompose herself, cleaning her eyes from the crying. By investigating the figure closer, she notices something mortifying—that weird silhouette was her. At least, it looked like her, but as an alicorn.

“Wah… Who-who are you?” asked Twilight, in a tense, barely audible voice.

Instantly prompted by the question, Alicorn Twilight replies enthusiastically, “Oh, I know what you’re thinking! ‘Oh, my Celestia, I can’t believe we really managed to perfect that dimension-hopping spell.’ Well, you better believe it, Me! We can finally explore the interdimensional cosmos, like we’ve always dreamed of doing!”

“Wait… Dimension-hopping spell?”

The social atmosphere gets a little awkward. “Yaeh, you know. The spell Celestia told was about when we were little? You know, the forbidden one?”

“Oh, Celestia never talked to me. She only assigned me some lessons from time to time,” Regular Twilight said, still relatively disinhibited thanks to the alcohol she took earlier.

The alicorn version of Twilight spaces out for a moment and looks around, noticing the deplorable state in which the bathroom found itself. She didn’t really seem too inclined to criticize it, since the mess was probably due to her dramatic entrance, but she couldn’t brush off the feeling of something being wrong with her alternate counterpart.

“Well… Were you trying to fix your bathroom by casting a spell or something back there? Because, you know, I don’t want to sound too equivocated, ha ha,” Alicorn Twilight laughs nervously, “But it seemed like you were attempting to… Kill yourself?”

“It’s all true!” Twilight stated, abruptly. “I am an absolute failure of a mare, so I decided to drink some Scotch, masturbate, and then kill myself, but I thought that cutting to the chase and simply committing suicide would be even classier. I mean, wouldn’t you have done the same? Ha! Ha! Ha, ha.. ha...”

“Oh… Well… I never really thought about such a thing before, to be honest…” Alicorn Twilight said, trying to play it cool in some way, as to make her alternate self feel less agitated, but not really able to navigate through the current situation.

“Ha, ha. It’s funny how shocked you are to hear this… I’m sorry if this sounds absurd to you… I have been living in a very miserable, deprived way these past few years, and all my pent-up frustration is spilling out due to all the alcohol I just drank… I’m really sorry,” offered Regular Twilight, in a drunk-induced emotional relapse.

“It’s ok, Me. I may not be able to fully relate to your circumstances, but I know how feeling alone and scared hurts. You know, it’s all about the connections we make in life, and I’m glad to have been able to realize this sooner than most thanks to my friends. Empathy is extremely important in cases like these, and I could provide you with lots of it,” initiated Alicorn Twilight, in an enthusiastic motivational speech, in hopes of tranquilizing the atmosphere.

Those words were powerful in their own way—they were developed through years of camaraderie and interpersonal trials, after all. They seemingly reached Regular Twilight’s dull heart for a moment, and she got up from the floor.

“That’s right, don’t let yourself get afraid or overwhelmed. I’m here for you—for you and for the entire multiverse, in fact,” added the incursing Twilight, in a contrived crescendo.

“You see, the interdimensional accident which has occurred in your universe may or may not destroy it entirely, so I’m here to observe such phenomenon. This world’s Mane 6 aren’t aware, but this event is a cosmic catalyst of sorts, and its containment will warp spacetime in such a way that it’ll create an… Artefact, lets call it… That will help me with a project I've been working on. When I’m done here, I can take you with me,” finished the alicorn.

“Wait… I may be way too high or something, but that didn’t sound right,” reacted Normal Twilight, confused. “Mane 6? But there are only 5 Elements of Harmony, r-right?...,” Twilight attempts to conclude her train of thought, but gets interrupted by a sudden urge to vomit, which she did cave in to.

Twilights’ fluids flow through her mouth, like a defective garden rose, spraying alcohol and semi-digested snacks all over the bathroom floor, what prompts her cross-dimensional counterpart to jump into the as to avoid the mess.

In this moment, an intense impact is felt throughout Ponyville, making Alicorn Twilight almost lose control of her flying. Regular Twilight, being unconscious, isn’t so lucky--she gets throw across the room; vomit smirking all over her.

Hovering in the air in an altitude which aligns to that of the windows, Alicorn Twilight is able to observe a thick cloud of what could only be described as solid chaos consuming the horizon and coming their way, destroying everything in its path.

“So, they failed to contain the Incident? So much for the power of friendship, I guess,” pondered Twilight. “Well, it doesn’t really matter; there are a myriad of other chances for me to put this idea in action. My patience will be rewarded, in the end, ha ha,” chuckled Twiligth wistfully, tangentially recalling her parents' lectures about structure and self-discipline.

Ever so meticulous, the unfazed alicorn redirect her attention to her pathetic alternate self. “It was probably her fault. For some reason, this timeline’s Twilight isn’t one of the Elements of Harmony. In any case, this was a fascinating first incursion, and I even got a new friend, huh,” contemplated Twilight, returning closer to the ground—now hovering next to her alternative version.

Alicorn Twilight pets her counterpart’s mane, completely dismissing her situation. “It is a very exhilarating experience to meet me, nonetheless. And, yaeh, I guess I can’t simply leave Me here,” muses Alicorn Twilight while concentrating her magical power.

Alicorn Twilight’s form becomes bigger, and her mane flows with an intense glow while her eyes shine a bright shade of purple. She turns into a sphere of energy, expanding in volume to the point of engulfing her other self’s body. The solid ball of purple energy then recedes in size, so much so it disappears from sight—almost like it simply left this universe’s backdoor exit.

There one less Equestria in the tapestry that is the multiverse.

One Big, Empty Party

The uniform sphere of light coalesces into existence suddenly, releasing Twilight into an environment both alien and familiar—as if she had come into contact with a distant memory or dream.

The place in which she currently finds herself in is eerily similar in structure and underlying atmosphere to her old Magic School—Celestia’s palace, the Canterlot Castle. More specifically, her old dorm room.

Lost in nostalgic musing, Twilight walks around the room, quietly reminiscing about how she once had so many opportunities but managed to wind up as such a failure.

“I wonder what is going through your mind at this very moment, while you stroll around in such a relevant place,” said an anonymous voice. “Every single one of us tend to overthink so much in circumstances like these,” claimed the voice, which was apparently coming from the room’s entrance door.

Turning around with a sense of dread and nausea going through her body, Twilight couldn’t help but feel afraid in some way at what she saw—a undiscerned figure—, but her overriding emotion at this moment was closer to a surreal form of dissociative detachment than anything else.

The enigmatic pony fully enters the room, revealing herself from the shadows—she was Twilight Sparkle, Celestia’s faithful student.

“Oh, it’s you…,” the confused purple unicorn sighted in relief, attempting to find some measure of comfort in the supposedly-familiar face. This imagined solace, however, didn’t last long as the now-incursing Twilight notices the fact that the pony standing in front of her was a unicorn, not an alicorn.

“I know what must be going through your head,” started the mysterious Twilight. “You are probably not even surprised at all. I know I wasn’t,” she confided in her dimensionally-displaced counterpart, whom she continually approached with a weird gracefulness and understanding while getting closer and closer.

Regular Twilight, feeling melancholic yet lucid, agreed, “Hah… I’m not even sure if I ever truly believed I was special in some way; even in this ridiculously strange scenario. But, don’t get me wrong,” she kept going, tired of feeling sorry for herself, “The way Alicorn Twilight apparently is going about all this is irrevocably interesting. Do you think I can meet the others, if there are more than just the two of us?”

“I like how calculating and direct we can be—this is one of the few aspects about dimension-hopping which will always fascinate me; the window it gives me into my… Unburdened self,” waxed the Peculiar Twilight, in a dismissive, almost autistic tone.

Noticing how her counterpart was currently displaying a change in attitude, Regular couldn’t help but feel puzzled; and, since social grace was not her forte, that showed.

“Oh? Ah, excuse my cryptic talk,” Peculiar Twilight said, in response to her alternate version’s apparent confusion. “The thing is: having had a chance to forgo my previous reality—escaping my seemingly-sterile world and coming to this one alongside that semi-facsimile of us—was definitely a significant event; however,” she tried to make sense of her feelings, having some difficulty to grasp for words, “The new set of possibilities which stand at my disposal at this renewed moment are… Not without their own tainted particularities, so to speak.”

The mystifying unicorn paces around the room, sulking in the now-trivial details which used to be so wonder-inducing and exciting to her in the past. She dismissively passes through her interdimensional doppelganger; aiming for the room’s balcony.

There is a myriad of sensations which flow through the royal bedroom from the large balcony-area—a perspective once fond of Twilight. Such a vista remained ingrained into her most distant affective memories—so distant, in fact, that the voids in her recollection were usually filled by favorable interpretations she used to concoct about her past; keeping them alive with the same care an author invests in her narrative arcs.

Now, however, such perspective is meaningless. Twilight have seen it so many times, under so many different circumstances and conditions.

“I know this is going to sound dumb, but having access to so many possibilities via Alicorn Twilight’s reality-warping abilities made me realize that I am miserable because I want to,” Peculiar Twilight pauses, somewhat affected by her emotions, “That I felt trapped in my former universe, unsatisfied and longing for something else, due to my own laziness and selfishness attitude,” she leans to the edge of the balcony, her hooves positioned on the top rail, “And now, with my newfound reality-defying power, I see working on myself as nothing but a trifle, although I see I’m just falling for the same thought patterns which landed me in this situation to begin with,” she finishes her self-absorbed speech; contemplative.

Meanwhile, Regular Twilight feels overwhelmed by the display of genuine emotion and seizes this opportunity to sneak out of there into the hallway.

Regular Twilight walks down the corridor, searching for her Alicorn counterpart, but also eager to explore this new environment. Anything would be better than having to think about what just transpired in the previous room.

However, there was something odd about this Canterlot—it was completely emptied of other ponies. Twilight treaded lightly through the hallways, expecting to have an undesired encounter with some member of the royal staff or anyone for that matter. But there was simply no one in there.

Puzzled by this development, the interdimensional traveler decides to go to a place where the chances of finding something were higher—the throne room. Inevitably pondering on what that emotionally-distraught Twilight said, Regular Twilight thought visiting a place which had so much relevance to her past would be at least interesting. After all, she used to be so cold towards Celestia back then; maybe now she could have a chance of “doing the right thing.”

After effortfully recalling the paths she used to walk as a filly, Twilight manages to find her way into the main hall, the one where Celestia should be.

The spacious chamber is, not surprisingly, devoid of any pony presence as well. Twilight paces around the throne room for a while, attempting in vain to figure out why Canterlot was in such a condition.

“Don’t worry about the sense of intrigue this kind of circumstances brings you,” said a voice identical to Twilight’s, echoing from the main hall’s entrance—this was Alicorn Twilight, Regular was sure of it. “This sort of feeling tends to be proven pointless, anyway.”

Regular directs her field of vision to the voice’s apparent source, revealing the alicorn with serious look in her face. “Awful fatalistic of both you and the other Twilight, huh?” stated Regular Twilight, numbed by the absurdity of the situation.

“I meant it in the most literal way possible, Me,” retorted Alicorn Twilight, projecting an affable exterior. “I am not able to control the universe-crossing spell as well as I want to yet, rendering the destination which I end up in almost completely random.”

“Almost?” interpolated Regular.

“Yes. Almost. All dimensions the spell allow me entrance to have a factor in common: they are all dying worlds,” the alicorn explained, in a very matter-of-fact manner, as if such explanations were given regularly by her. “I hate liars, so I’ll be direct with you,” she continued “I’m looking for a certain kind of Twilight—a very rare one—, and the versions of us you see rooming around here are the ones who don’t fit that profile.”

“That’s also the case for me, I imagine,” Regular Twilight asked, with a melancholic, uncertain tone in her speech.

Alicorn Twilight attempted the most neutral inflection while composing her response, “Well, that is, in fact, the case; however, it mustn’t be a tragic thing,” she offered, but now barely being able to repress her macabre enthusiasm. “After all, now you’re the freest you could ever be. You could even leave this place right now and ignore the fact we ever met, if you so desire.”

“Oh?” emoted Regular, out of instinct. “So, what was the point in bringing me here to begin with? Leaving me to die back there wouldn’t have affected the current arrangements in any way, and there must be other dying universes wherein alternate iterations of us are dead anyway.”

The alicorn came closer to Regular Twilight, putting her right hove in the counterpart’s shoulder, as in a strange gesture of comfort, “Call me Machiavellian, but the only satisfactory explanation I can give you is that I’m trying to prove a point,” she said after giving Regular a wistful look.

“You see,” Alicorn Twilight carried on in a crescendo, “There’s a fundamental error in most universes—they are all populated by otherness.” She turns to Celestia’s empty throne, jumps into the air, and resumes her monologue, “I see all these different creatures getting the shorter end of the stick by other beings, just because they lead opposing lifeways or have distinct needs...,” she pauses briefly, then blasts an explosive spell into the throne sitting in front of her, destroying it completely.

Regular, despite her situational apathy, gets startled by this, taking a few steps back. Alicorn Twilight notices it, and turns her attention to Regular, “My Celestia was sweet and nurturing, but also a demented liar. A shame, isn’t it?” the reactive alicorn offers Regular, giving her a consoling glance.

Regular Twilight does not reciprocate.

“Oh, Me. I see you’re confused and afraid. It’s ok; I would feel the same in your place,” said Alicorn Twilight, decreasing altitude and getting closer to Regular; meanwhile the throne burns in a gigantic inferno behind her. “And that’s exactly my point here; only we can understand each other.”

Out of an instinctual response of her fight-or-flight reaction, Regular Twilight lets herself slip through the cracks of the cosmos—she exits Alicorn Twilight’s home dimension into the unknowable.

Me as Myself Sees It

It’s about 3 p.m., and Ponyville is active and vibrant—as it is customary. From the many cheerful creatures in the little town, a group of six best friends stand out—they are the town heroes, the Elements of Harmony, after all. They are gathered in a peaceful park, alongside some other crowds of ponies, to enjoy a casual picnic.

“Twilight! Twilight! Look at what I can do,” said the Element of Laughter. She, then, proceeds to reach for a bottle of ice cream, just so she can dip her hayburger into it.

Twilight Sparkle, relishing on the contrast her friends presented to her personality, assumes the role of the straight man, “You just ruined your hayburger by dipping it into ice cream. What is so special about that, Pinkie?”

“Oh, Twilight, Twilight,” Pinkie says with a mock-condescending tone to her voice, while gesturing a friendly signal of disapproval with her head. “You’re soooo smart, but can’t even appreciate good alchemy? Pfft,” she teased in the same tone, just to raise her voice suddenly and go into an overly-enthusiastic tirade about her little experiment. “You see, dummy, I’ve just created a brand-new taste by combining sweet and non-sweet food! An act of alchemical engineering of the highest degree! I might as well turn water into gold.”

“Well, actually,” Twilight said, while rolling her eyes—enacting an overall exaggerated pantomime. “That wouldn’t even be considered alchemy, since that is an outdated, vague term,” she chuckled, trying her hardest to keep a straight face, “What you might be attempting to refer to is ‘chemistry,’ more specifically food engineering, not alchemy,” she explained, mockingly. “Oh, and bittersweet is already a taste, you can’t just invent it again!”

Twilight isn’t able to contain herself for much longer, bursting into laughter; an act the rest of the group reciprocates.

“Ha, ha. Oh, you two,” Applejack savors the current sense of interpersonal harmony shared by the 6 friends. “Talkin’ with yall always manages to cheer me up after a hard day’s work,” she confided, inspired by the state of quasi-nirvana that exists as the intermissions presented by day-offs. “I’m glad we’ve come so far.”

“You said it, AJ!” exclaimed Rainbow, before taking a bite of one of the many delicacies spread along the picnic mattress. “The Wonderbolts have been eating up a lot of my time lately, and the obligations of not being a civilian anymore can be pretty stressful. It’s good having you guys to keep me sane.”

Twilight looked so proud of herself and her friends; to a degree bordering a sense of ataraxia. “I agree,” she began. “Ever since I came to Ponyville I learned so much, and you all were always there for me,” her friends jocularly rolled their eyes, predicting the friendship lecture that were about to take place. “And I mean It. It may sound cliché, but as long as we have each other-,” Twilight paused for second, distracted by her peripherical vision.

In a corner of her eye, she saw herself—or something resembling her body—stumbling around next to group of fillies, puking profusely while the foals run in terror.

“No,” she whispered in horrific denial.

“Are you ok, Darling?” Rarity inquired, prompted by her friend’s sudden spacing out. The white unicorn comes closer to Twilight, in order to provide grounding comfort.

Twilight redirected her focus to Rarity’s concerned face, attempting to regain control over her own thoughts. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she remarked, still a little frantic.

“Are you sure? You don’t look so good-“ Rainbow Dash tried saying something, but is unexpectedly paralyzed in time by Twilight. All the other ponies in the park suffer the same fate, simultaneously.

Twilight Sparkle, then, breathes slowly in an attempt to calm herself down. Subsequently teleporting away towards the place where she saw her doppelgänger, just to find nothing but more ponies frozen in time. “Where is she?” I can’t let anyone take this away from me-“

Before this Twilight could finish her words, Regular Twilight stumbles into her from behind, which prompts Normal Twilight to fall face-flat into a tree. However, she is able to quickly cast a teleportation spell in place, putting her back in a favorable position; facing the invading Twilight.

Normal starts charging a magic blast, with a crazed look in her eyes. “What are you doing in here, you insane bitch? Did you finally learn how to remove your own Soul Anchor as well?” she said, blinded by rage. “Well, it doesn’t matter. You see, I’ve been practicing. Amoral sociopaths like you are so reckless, you obviously wouldn’t prepare at all-“ suddenly, Normal notices her opponent hasn’t a pair of wings.

“Oh, so it’s just yet another normal act of homicide I’ll have to commit,” the choleric unicorn said, disengaging from her aggressive spell-casting for a second. “I hate this so much.”

“Err…,” Regular Twilight tried to articulate some useful appellation, despite still being dizzy thanks to her previous interdimensional encounter. “Wha-what do you…” she barfs inside her own mouth in middle sentence, barely capable of standing up.

Normal sees the pathetic display, and confirms that her current adversary is not a threat. “Well, I’ve been able to reverse Alpha’s curse, so to speak,” she pauses for a bit and admires the plain populated by ponies playing with each other, proud of herself. “That alicorn cunt thought she could simply break me, like she did to the other Twilights. ‘Well, now you’re free, go have fun!’ my ass,” she looks back to Regular. “This is real,” she points to the Mane 6 frozen in time, “But this world’s Twilight, just like all of Alpha’s hedonistic minions, wasn’t able to appreciate it. Pfft.”

Regular manages to muster some energy, enough to buy her a bit of time questioning the mad-sounding unicorn. “So is that alicorn Twilight not able to travel freely across dimensions, but we can-”

“Yaeh, and she uses us to get more info on ‘Omega’ or whatever. Any smart-ass Twilight, who put in the time to ask Alpha questions, already knows that,” Normal interjected, eager to dismiss Regular’s potential point.

“Oh… In that case…” Regular attempts to delay her deadly fate once again, before getting interrupted.

“Enough. I hate to do this,” said the territorial unicorn, glowing with escalating power. “This doesn’t get easier with practice at all, but that’s a reasonable price to pay,” she aims her horn toward the cross-dimensional duplicate; eyes tearing up a little.

Regular Twilight sees an opportunity, “You don’t have to do this…”

“Shut the fuck up!” interpolated Normal, losing control of her temper. “You don’t understand. I didn’t ask for any of this, but, if I don’t keep killing incursing Twilights, this world will lose all meaning,” she rationalized, painfully. “It’s so hard to maintain this utopian reality. Drinking tea with a passionate friend like Rarity, or helping out Applejack with the farm in the evenings, and having to pretend I didn’t just murder lost souls after each moment,” she imparted, exhausted.

“I…” Regular Twilight, harnessing the few last bits of consciousness and motivation she had left, tried to reason, “I don’t think that is how you should go about doing this… May-maybe I’m just lazy—I mean, I didn’t even get to meet Rarity or Applejack in my world—, but expending so much energy, and getting so tired, in order to defend your ‘perfect world’ sounds… Un-utopian…”

Upon hearing this, Normal Twilight de-escalates her already hesitant attack. “You… You also never met the Mane 6 in your universe, huh?” that had an effect on her, as if an open wound got poked. “Ever since Alpha removed my Soul Anchor, I wondered multiple dimensions—all of each had happy, successful Twilights,” Normal started rumbling. “Ha, ha… For some reason, I believed all the versions of me who came in here were the same… I thought they were all better-off Twilights who lost their worlds and were after mine…” she paused for a minute. “Knowing we were all so similar makes me feel weird…”

“I wonder how many other Twilights are operating under the same presumption,” proposed Regular. “Maybe we could talk to them and-”

“Ha!” mocked Normal. “Are you retarded? I’m not interested in leaving this world behind and going into an adventure with you. Of course, there are others like me out there—an infinite number of them, I bet. The real question is: why would any of them, including me, care enough to abandon a paradise like this? Change demands the application of force, but accepting horror is simply a matter of habituation.

“But…”

“That’s exactly what I mean by ‘hedonistic’ when I refer to the other versions of us. They all contrive stupid strategies and plans, just to ‘combat’ the situation and subsequent existential nausea Alpha put they in; but, in the end, every version of every possible occurrence is been iterated over and over again across the multiverse. If there were any sensible way to ‘defeat’ Alpha, it would’ve already happened—all Twilights like you are doing is masturbating your own egos; seeking desperately for a sense of purpose,” Normal lectured, in an emotionally discorded outburst.

Regular Twilight reflected a bit, trying to find a way to counter Normal’s argument, but she couldn’t think of anything. A dead silence sets a melancholic, fatalistic mood, which seem to dominate the time-frozen environment like a thick mist.

“I am not mentally equipped to commit murder again today,” said Normal, looking down, almost crying. “This isn’t a noble act; this isn’t a promise to help you, nor a change in attitude. I just might kill the next Twilight who comes here. All that I want is to be left alone,” she said, looking away to the group of ponies around the picnic mattress, letting an inarticulate smile slip.

Regular Twilight thinks about an innumerable different statements she could come up with to try and convince her counterpart, but she was also feeling burned out at this point. There is no magical combination of words for that.

“Well,” Regular attempts to speak to Normal, despite of her being autistically engrossed by the ponies she is staring at, “Thank you anyway.” Regular offers before leaving that world—almost without thinking about it; it was like daydreaming about an escape from an overwhelming situation.

Slipping through the cracks of that universe however, her mind couldn’t rest. So many things to consider; so many qualifiers, all of which seemed wrong. In her volatile state of mind, she was floating around in the space between spaces.

A little island appears within this interdimensional nothingness, with two other Twilights in there—one with a cartoony scar in her face and the other wearing a fez hat. They are talking amongst themselves, but Regular could her them as if she was there. Then, suddenly, she was.

“That’s what I’m saying,” one of them was in the middle of making a point. “It is no use. I have talked to a Twilight like that just now. They are all in the same pathetic position, can’t you see it?”

“Uh… are you two also lost?”

“You could say that,” one of the Twilights answered—the with a scar in her eye. She turns to her original interlocutor, “Logically, there’s no reason to even care about this whole Alpha and Omega bullshit to being with. All the dimensions I’ve visited so far have reinforced that to me—they all are incredibly pitiful,” her reasoning goes. “Taking over them would be more productive.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” Fez Twilight indecisively remarked; her monotone voice being only barely audible.

Scar becomes overly-enthusiastic, as though she had complete conviction in what she was talking about. “Just listen to me, okay? There seems to be 3 types of Twilights in this multiverse: the ones who capture new universes for them to live in and protect from outside forces; the ones who think there’s some grand narrative to be fulfilled, wasting their lives trying to recruit others to fight Alpha; and the ones who simply go mad and die,” the point was presented very matter-of-factly. “However!” She emphasized, “What if I told you there could be a 4th kind?”

Based on recent evidence, at least one of these categories seemed to be realistic enough, so Regular listened; already in the end of her wits.

“That’s right. You don’t need to spend the rest of your life protecting a poorly-constructed fantasy,” Scar continued, “You just need to ignore all this inter-Twilight drama and focus on the only relevant factor in existence: the power of will.”

Fez looked like she was eager to run away from the loaded interaction. Regular, on the other hand, as someone deprived from control for her entire life, became incrementally interested in the weird Twilight’s rhetoric.

“I’ve been observing this place ever since I learned how to properly hop across worlds. Other Twilights become confuse, come into this cross-dimensional limbo, then leave to pursue one of the aforementioned delusions. Fez Twilight over here was about to do the same, but she was lucky enough to be approached by me.”

“Define lucky,” retorted Fez, unable to project her voice correctly.

“Yaeh, yaeh. Very original,” Scar immediately interjected, establishing control over the situation once again. “Listen, this is the only viable solution to our current conundrum. This multiverse has deemed us ‘failed Twilights,’ and any life we chose to live within its boundaries will be as proponents of such a role, but it mustn’t be this way,” she paused for a second, her voice quality getting weightier. “Any Twilight is, on average, powerful enough to subdue all of Ponyville’s inhabitants, including the Elements of Harmony. If we join forces, we can increase this destructive potential geometrically, until Equestria will be nothing but our plaything—then, by hijacking the Equestrian military, we’ll be able to take on other universes. Our will would be supreme—no more mundane shit or contrived threats to bother us; the satisfaction of our needs would be the only norm. Isn’t that the purpose of life, anyway?”

Regular Twilight slowly grin, picturing such a megalomaniacal prospect in her developmentally-challenged mind. She goes from pathologically apathetic to fervent, thanks to finally having a purpose—be it as macabre as it may. “Will there be any alcohol in this Empire of yours?”

“Fuck yaeh it will. Alcohol, cocaine, Xanax, hentai—any dependence-generating thing your degenerate psyche is able to come up with!”

“Well,” Fez was about to take a position. “You guys seem to share the same aggrandizing convictions. I am not sure if basing your decision-making in such delusions of grandeur is a good idea, statistically speaking.”

“She is about to join arms with us, if you haven’t yet noticed, Fez. A very smart idea, by the way. You should do the same,” Scar, via her intimidatingly-verbose attitude, ensures that her message communicate a sense of persuading urgency. “It would be a shame to take over the anonymous dimension you decide to go to if you refuse my offer, leaving you as an ordinary nobody in my Empire. Now,” she makes the ultimatum, “Is your chance to be part of the Purple Inner Circle. All I need is a yes.”

“Well…” Fez Twilight spoke in her meekly voice. “I guess I’ll join you two. For social animals like us, power is on numbers. So, if I stick with you, I could become a pony to the power of 3—a square, if you will.”

“Yaeh?” Regular vocalized certain confusion on whether the fez-wearing Twilight was going to take a stance or not.

“And it has always been my dream to be a square. It is the most romantic shape, after all…” Fez announced, with the vague suggestion of trying to come across as clever.

“Wouldn’t that be a triangle, though? Like, in a love triangle?” Regular Twilight attempted to make sense of Fez’s incoherent mumbling.

Fez express chock upon hearing the explanation. “Oh no,” she went even deeper on the tangent, “I screwed it up. I was going so well—I even met two new ponies today. I can’t believe my poor mathematical reasoning lend me such embarrassing failure. My dad was right about me-“

“Hey,” Scar interrupted, resolutely. “I know how to fix your math, and ‘lend you success’”

“You do?” Fez asked, sounding like a foal whose fit of crying was just barely averted.

“Of course I do!” Scar continued, “We can all go to an Equestria’s Ponyville, defeat its Elements of Harmony, and then make a bunch of new friends through the magic of forced labor and assimilation. That would be so algebraic and shit.”

“Hmm,” Regular sounded genuinely convinced by such logic. “That is some flawless reasoning right there, if you ask me.”

Fez Twilight thought for a few moments, pacing around in the same place nervously. Then she looks directly to Scar’s eyes, awkwardly shaking her head up and down as to show she is interested.

“It’s settled then,” Scar grins.