Afternoon sunlight splashed into the Aquarium from tall windows, accenting the purple and navy-blue walls with orange. The low susurration of distant adult conversation was punctuated with the high cries of foals and soothing, generic music. Ahead of Twilight, the tangerine stallion in the blue uniform was directing ponies to stand in front of a large aquatic-themed backdrop.
“Right over here. Now look that way.” Was his voice that sharp? Or was it the headache throbbing out from her thalamus? Probably both. “You can find your photos at the kiosk.” She tried not to grimace as he turned her way, voice even louder than before. “Right over here please. Now look that way.”
His smile was broad and toothy, but it did not reach his voice, somehow. Twilight did as she was told, turning her back on the sea lion and the octopus cavorting behind her. At least he wasn’t treating her any different than anypony else in this city. Just another tourist.
A flash from somewhere she couldn’t identify left her blinking. “You can find your photos at the kiosk.” Twilight nodded, her head swimming, and moved along, leaving the glow of sunlight for the shadowed mysteries ahead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Silhouettes of ponies milled about the first room in the aquarium, chatting and pointing. The gloom was punctuated by brightly lit displays promising information in exchange for attention; a fair trade, they insisted. But Twilight stood, transfixed, in front of a kiosk, willing it to work. They’d had their pictures taken, hadn’t they? So where were they?
“C’mon Twilight,” Spike’s voice urged, “They’ve got a pool where you can pet sea stars! Let’s check it out!”
“Just a minute.” Twilight squinted at the screen, trying to make out the tiny text through the glare. They had purchased the tickets, right? Then they were ushered in front of a screen, there was a flash… A voice told them they could collect the pictures at a kiosk, yes. All very friendly. All very normal.
“But we’re wasting time, though. Let’s just wander around!” The weight on Twilight’s back shifted closer, but Spike’s voice sounded further away than before. “Oooohh, jellyfish!”
The Aquarium smelled strange, like old brine and fish. It reminded Twilight uncomfortably of the market in Griffinstone. Twilight sighed, giving up on the prospect of free pictures, and turned away. There was quite a lot to see. She found a free spot near a tide pool and sidled up to it. There were spiny little urchins adorning some mossy rocks, orange anemones drifting gently with the water, fat little sea stars slowly flexing their strange appendages. She felt the weight on her back shift as Spike leaned, and while she didn’t look, she could hear the wet sounds of him making contact with something in the shallow pool.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twilight settled the dark blue headset over her ears, then pressed the button on the side. The aquarium audioguide burst with shrill static that quickly settled into soothing, generic violins. A wizened gentlestallion with a voice like a millstone began speaking into her ears. ”-eep sea is teeming with life, and contains more numerous and varied species than we see anywhere on land. Experts tell us that we have only explored between two and three percent of the vast oceans, and all of that comparatively near the surface.” She smiled to herself. Hopefully she could pick up some interesting aquatic facts to share at Pinkie’s next party.
There were small, greenish tanks being kept company by placards starting with DID YOU KNOW? There were schools of fish peeking out shyly from brightly colored coral, their hard black pebble eyes staring. They spent some time mesmerized beneath an arch of glass, filled with water that circulated gently, generously strewn with weightless jellyfish. ”Scientists have discovered over 1,500 species of jellyfish,” The voice suggested, ”but estimate there may be over 300,000 at depths below…” There was a hallway with a long tank, stretching into the distance, with waves generated at one end then rolling inexorably towards them.
Spike must have been loving this. She felt him sway with the wave as it rolled past them, mimicking the motion of the water. Fish lifted and settled together, holding perfect formation as the waves passed. “Many aquatic denizens possess senses we ponies can scarcely understand. Directional vibrations through water pressure. Electric and magnetic fields. Spectrums of radiation that might drive a pony mad if she could process it all...” But something about the force of the water, or how close they were in the narrow hallway, made her feel nervous. Shouldn’t there have been windows here, looking out onto the ocean? She thought there should have been.
SLOSH
Twilight jumped, feeling all of her muscles tense up. She’d done so much work in the past three years tamping down her anxiety, so why was she feeling a fight or flight response now? Her head pounded, worse than before. The headset didn’t block out all the ambient noise; she could still hear the sound of other ponies enjoying themselves. And… whispers, maybe? ”-starfish can grow itself back even after being sawed roughly in half, much like an earthworm-” She tried to steady her breathing, the way Cadance had taught her.
Then the smell of hay fries hit her nose, her stomach grumbled, and the anxiety passed. There had to be a cafeteria here, right? Twilight spoke over her shoulder. “Hey Champ, want to get some food while we see the sights?” She sighed as she followed her nose down the hall in front of her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was most definitely not a cafeteria. The domed room was huge and had several entrances. Through the glass of the walls and ceiling, slick shapes slid through the water, some spotted, some silvery, some as brightly colored as party favors. There were few ponies here, maybe because the lights were dim, but the comforting sound of a public place still intruded despite her headset. Maybe there was a class field trip one room over?
There were stone benches for observing the parade of marine life at a sedate pace, but they looked uncomfortable, so Twilight chose to stand. She paused to wonder where the light was even coming from. They must have been pretty far underwater, because afternoon sunlight should have been refracting through the surface somewhere. ”-uniquely adapted to life underwater. Look Careful at some of these rocks, and you may discover our resident octopus, who enjoys unrivaled powers of camouflage. Able to change the color, texture, and very chemical composition of its fundamental particl…”
A cluster of translucent shrimp darted through the water in a syncopated rhythm, bending their backs at an odd angle in little bursts of movement. They sprinkled like snow onto a clear patch of sand, until a sizable swath of sediment twitched and lifted, revealing a perturbed flat fish that drifted off into the distance.
The marine setting extended into shadow, giving the impression that they were sitting on the ocean floor. But this had to be a tank, of course, with the far walls painted to look like they went on and on. They hadn’t descended far enough to be well below sea level, had they? There had been stairs and a ramp, now that she was thinking about it. The throbbing deep in her skull made her wince. Twilight figured she could ask an employee. She was vaguely glancing around for a uniformed pony when movement tugged her attention to the glass right before her.
A monolithic eye drifted into view.
Twilight let out a high-pitched scream and recoiled, jumping backwards and lifting her wings in a warding gesture, shielding herself and Spike. The headset hissed alarming static that raised the hairs along her spine. Her pulse thumped loudly in her ears, which had flattened to her skull. A fish drifted by, flat and massive. Far larger than anything she expected to see here. Larger than she would have thought could be safely housed in an enclosed space, even one as big as this.
But nopony else had jumped. Nopony was even snickering at her reaction. Maybe they were just being polite. The violins were back, as placid as ever, accompanied by a lonely bassoon. But Spike still quivered on her back, probably as shocked as she had been. She tried to slow her breathing, but even knowing the mammoth fish was there, she couldn’t shake the subtle chill that had settled into her feathers at the sight of it.
“Let’s see if we can find the otters.” Twilight’s voice sounded high and tight. She settled her wings and turned, keeping one eye on the massive fish, several ponies high, still drifting lazily through the water, blotting out most of the other aquatic denizens like a slimy eclipse. With clipped strides, she took one of the tunnels and made her exit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
She couldn’t find the otters. The smell of the cafeteria had vanished, replaced by a faint smell of ammonia and salt and rot. It didn’t help that the signs were either confusing gibberish or non-existent. The voice in her ears was fading in and out, the violins becoming more hurried and urgent. She found a doorway that led to an upward-sloping ramp, but it ended in a staircase leading down. Why didn’t she grab a map from the entrance? Twilight turned away while hundreds of dead fish eyes followed her movements.
The ramp took her back down to the hallway, where she continued on, through a long curve to a hallway that sloped down. Spike had been silent for awhile, just perched between her shoulder blades. ”-when startled, the timid fish will instinctively Don’t in the same direction as its closest neighbor, creating a pattern we call schooling…” It was silly, but she thought she could feel the weight of a mile of water piled behind these walls. She was certain, once she found the exit, she would feel utterly foolish. Her friends would never let her live this down. Being spooked in a public place? Twilight could almost feel the embarrassment now.
To her right, the floor to ceiling glass revealed a cavernous tank that faded into silt the further she looked. She tried not to look. The coral she could see was vivid. Clashing colors that made her eyes hurt. The remains of half-eaten fish settled lazily along the bottom. She tried not to look. ”-owerfull jaws are slender enough to pull chunks of tender meat Eyes of the protective shell, bypassing the need for a brute force…” But there was nowhere else to look. As the wall of the tank loomed, she spotted a gaping hole, a pipe leading out of the enclosure. Just as she spotted it, something mottled and slick sucked itself into the hole and out of sight.
Whatever was supposed to be displayed here, Twilight was immensely relieved she didn’t see it.
There, ahead of her, was a brightly lit elevator! Finally, a clear way out of here. Twilight felt her breathing slow, and she was suddenly self-conscious about the sweat matting her coat. With a sigh of relief she stepped through the open doors, quickly pressing the highest button on the panel.
The doors slid closed, and with a lurch the elevator dropped, moving downwards at a brisk pace. Her stomach did a little flip, and she felt her gorge rise. “No.” she whimpered. “No no no no no no no.” Her balance wavered as she lifted a hoof and slammed it against the bright red emergency stop button. The button snapped off the wall as the entire carriage screeched to a halt, the sound clawing into her ears.
In the silence, Twilight’s legs shook. Her breathing was loud and ragged in her own ears. The red button rolled slowly, slowly, across the floor of the elevator, before coming to rest gently against her hoof. Her headache sliced through her brain and up her horn, beating in time with her racing heart. The doors slid open of their own accord.
The room ahead was dark and rectangular, a soft violet glow from somewhere just brushing the walls. The room was tilted at a slight angle, or maybe the elevator was, but it made her feel even more sick. The elevator was stuck now. Somehow she knew it, knew that it couldn’t take her back up. But she didn’t want to leave it. She didn’t want to step out there. She didn’t want to know.
The audioguide headset had clattered to the floor, nearly silent. She could still hear the sound of distant conversation, punctuated by the sound of foals. But it was tinny, grainy, worming its way out of the headset itself. It was a false sound. Had been from the start. The gentlestallion was laughing, the disbelieving laugh of one feeling their sanity slipping through their hooves.
Twilight reached for her magic. She was getting her and Spike out of there. But as her horn began to glow, she felt… nothing. Her magic was there, but there was nowhere to blink to. She couldn’t sense the outside. Just leagues of water. The world was wet and heavy and endless. She felt tears welling in her eyes as she squeezed them shut, willing the world to change, for this nightmare to end.
A loud voice rang out of the fallen headset, “TWILIIIIIGHT!” A scream of raw fear. “TWILIGHT DON’T CL-” The silence was louder than the sound had been. She twitched at the noise, kicking the emergency button into a corner. The broken back of it looked like a cartoon face, frowning. She shifted her weight forward, leaning just her head out of the corpse of the elevator. There was a large display window before her that curved gently, displaying darkness.
Twilight slowly stepped fully into the viewing room, her hoofsteps echoing back to her from every direction. The window had an information display to the left, the glare from it harsh in the violet ambiance. Twilight glanced at it. That was a mistake. The shapes or symbols on it were all bad very bad very bad don't look don’t look don’t look don't look don't look. The weight on Twilight’s back felt like it had doubled, and it pulsed and rocked slowly back and forth, as though it was content. Had Spike actually been with her? Did she pay for these tickets she couldn’t remember. What city was this?
There was nothing beyond the glass. Twilight was so grateful there was nothing beyond the glass. Whatever she was supposed to see here she didn’t want to see. Why was her back so damp? Whatever was clinging to her mane was digging into her scalp. Was that blood running down her back? It couldn’t be. Her headache was coming from the center of her brain. She couldn’t look behind her. So she blinked, feeling her balance waver, staring into the deep.
The darkness shifted.
Rippled.
Uncoiled.
Twilight squeezed her eyes shut.
Rarity turned under her satin sheets and thick down comforter, adjusting her pillow so it would prop her head without dislodging the curlers in her mane. She thought of the shipment of fabrics arriving from Detrot, and how she was going to organize them by weight and color. She thought of her long list of clients she already had appointments with starting bright and early tomorrow. Or was it today already?
She sighed dramatically and lifted a corner of her sleeping mask. The light of Luna’s moon was almost completely blocked out by her heavy curtains, but she thought she could make out the time on her mother’s antique clock in the corner of her bedroom. Yes, it was far too early to get up for the morning. But perhaps a glass of water would be nice.
She gently levitated the covers off her form, holding them aloft as she rolled to her hooves, and settling them neatly once she was free. She was mindful of the sound she made, since Sweetie Belle and her little friends were spending the night in the living room below.
Silhouettes of ponies in mid-gallop formed a tableau along the curved wall, shrouded by half-finished cowls and skirts and hats. Rarity tippy-hoofed past them, opening her door with a gentle creak. She crept through the gloom, down the stairs, deftly avoiding the third from the bottom that would creak like a banshee if you so much as lay a hoof on it.
The gloom was less pronounced in the foyer which doubled as the customer-facing part of her shop. The smell of popcorn still hung about the place. Most of the moonlight was spilling through the door to the living room, which was wide open. Through bleary, sleep-crusted eyes, she could make out the elaborate cushion fort backlit by silver light though half-closed curtains. Somewhere in that complex of foam and fabric three foals slept soundly. One was even emitting a gentle, high-pitched snore.
Assured that everything was in order, Rarity wended her way towards the kitchen. Her ears twitched, a foreign rustling sound tickling them, like leaves on a distant tree. But it faded as soon as she noticed it. Her horn began to shed a gentle blue light as she enveloped her refrigerator door, withdrawing a pitcher of water. As she turned towards the glass she kept by the sink for just such bouts of insomnia, she let out a dainty eep! The pitcher wavered in her magical field, tipping a splash of water onto the floor.
There was a sizable ant on her countertop, the red of dried blood in the glow of her horn, wiggling its little feelers in the air. Rarity shuddered delicately, feeling her skin crawl a little beneath her fur. She steadied herself with a breath. She was not prone to fits of panic, and she was certainly not afraid of a little bug. Sliding the pitcher safely onto the table beside her, she used her magic to deftly flip her water glass upside down over the intruder, trapping it beneath.
She shook herself lightly to try and settle her fur, which felt like it was standing on end. “I don’t know what you think you are doing here,” she whispered, “But you gave me quite the shock, you know.” Rarity approached the glass to study her captive. It was crawling about the sides of the glass now, seemingly frantic to get out. Its little pincers waggled, biting at the air.
Rarity unconsciously adjusted her mane, filled with curlers as it was. “Forgive me, little one, but I must find a bit of paper to escort you outside. I couldn’t imagine Fluttershy’s reaction if I simply washed you down the drain.” As she turned to leave the kitchen, however, some hint of movement by the sink caught her eye. She tilted her head, allowing her horn to shed its light in that direction.
There were ants in the sink. At least six of them crawling about, from what she could see. A cold sensation washed over her, a prickle that started at the nape of her neck and spread outward. The feeling was quickly followed by annoyance. Obviously, one of Sweetie Belle’s friends had left food out; perhaps they had gotten into her stash of imported chocolates. If they had, Rarity intended to become quite cross.
She wasn’t afraid of insects, per se. But she drew the line at having to wrangle them in the dark. She likewise refused to do nothing at all. This was her home, after all. She would simply have to wake up early to deal with the invasion. She backed out of the kitchen and swung the door shut, blocking the crawling dots from her view.
The gentle sound of distant rustling leaves soothed her frazzled nerves. The kitchen was a lost cause for tonight, obviously, but she could at least take steps to contain the intruders. A towel, that’s what she needed. She would lay a towel along the bottom of the kitchen door and head back to bed. She trotted lightly towards the downstairs bathroom, nudging the door open with a hoof.
The towel hung there, just beyond the mirror. She brushed into the dark room, reaching out a hoof, and froze. Her stomach sank. Even in the darkness, she could see a couple of small dots moving about the wall. Not many, but enough to know she was far too late to contain her newfound kitchen friends. Instead of the towel, she moved her hoof towards the light switch.
Rarity hesitated. “It’s okay,” she breathed. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” She was not going to panic. She was a level-headed, reasonable pony. Most of the time, anyway. This was simply a problem that needed to be fixed. Maybe it was a five-alarm, reschedule her appointments, call Fluttershy in the middle of the night kind of problem, sure. But she wasn’t going to lose her head and start screaming hysterically. Not while she might panic the foals in the next room.
So why did she hesitate? What was she so afraid of seeing? She swallowed thickly, and turned on the light.
As she feared, there were ants on the wall, scurrying about. Her skin itched beneath her fur just watching them, and her shoulders tensed all the way up. They didn’t seem to move with a destination in mind, instead changing directions in strange patterns, frantically waving their feelers whenever they stopped.
Rarity barely had time to process the possibility that none of the children were to blame for a home invasion of this magnitude, when her shower curtain gently billowed towards her, as though the shower was running. The curtain was infested with crawling ants, some of them lifting their abdomens, reaching for her with their front legs. The plastic sheet gently brought them within a hair’s breadth of her flank.
A strangled scream squeaked out of Rarity’s throat as she twitched away, prancing towards the wall that also had bugs all over it. She fled, her hooves barely touching the floor. Her lips were clamped shut over her cries, as though bugs were trying to crawl inside her. She knew she was panicking, but that somehow made it worse. She thought she could feel them wending through her fur, and she was suddenly frantic to make the sensation stop.
The rustling leaves were back, and Rarity was instantly certain that the sound was not actually leaves. She needed to get out. She would make a fool out of herself in front of half of Ponyville if she must, but she was getting out of here. The house, and her dignity, were lost. But she couldn’t leave yet. The foals. And Opalescence. She could levitate them out if she needed to. Probably. If she could focus long enough. She had to try.
Rarity slid into the living room, dominated by the silhouette of the massive blanket fort, complete with a flag flying from the top of the highest point. Moonlight fell through a gap in the curtains, and she could see the tree outside the window. Its leaves were perfectly still. “S-Sweetie Belle?” She didn’t want to panic the foals, but despite her best efforts, her voice was high and tremulous. She’d barely made a sound. “Wake up, Sweetie, we need to go.”
Her horn shed blue light over the fort as she enveloped the sheet over the entrance with her magic. It was speckled with moving dots. Of course it was. She shook it with her magic, instinctively dislodging many of the ants which plopped softly onto the carpet. Rarity’s face stretched into a grimace as she pulled the sheet back, afraid now of what she might see.
Sweetie Belle was there, awake, blinking sleep out of her eyes. Two other shapes lay in the shadows, the one with wings beginning to stir. Sweetie Belle’s green eyes furrowed quizzically in the light of Rarity’s horn. “Mmmmfff… Rarity, what’s wrong?”
Rarity felt as though she was balanced on a razor’s edge. But she was moving, and she had a plan. She could feel anger bubbling up inside her. Anger she could direct at this infestation once she was safely out and away from here. “We need to leave now.”
“What’s happening?” Sweetie Belle’s voice was louder now, scared. Both of her companions were stirring, rising to their little hooves. She peeked her little head out of the opening, training her frightened eyes on Rarity. Then she glanced straight up and screamed.
Rarity couldn’t look up. She couldn’t. She would lose her focus and her composure and then she would lose control of the situation. Yet she had to look. This was her home. This was her sister. She needed to look. She needed to know how bad it really was.
She looked up.
Her ceiling was a carpet of rustling spots and wiggling limbs. There were little ants and larger ants with square heads and longer ants with small white orbs clinging all along their backs. There were even bigger ants with black wings folded down their backs. There were bugs she hardly recognized as ants, but they all seemed to be flowing across her ceiling in the same general direction.
Rarity crouched, her eyes glued to the scene above her. She took an involuntary step back, and something crunched loudly beneath her forehoof. She tore her eyes off the ceiling to look. There, where her hoof had just been, was the mangled body of a very large ant, mushed into the carpet. The sudden silence was deafening.
Every insect had stopped in perfect unison. They all waved their feelers blindly in her direction, arching their little bodies towards her. “Rarity.” Her little sister’s voice was small but stern, commanding. “Don’t close your eyes.”
“W-what?” Rarity barely breathed the word. But the first wiggling shape fell from the ceiling with a soft sound, like a raindrop from a clouded sky. Then seven. Then a hundred, a gentle pattering filled the room. They were in her mane. In her fur. Landing up and down her back. Falling into her tail, her face, drenching her in a deluge of countless scurrying, biting insects.
Rarity squeezed her eyes shut.
