Nightmare Moon steps onto a massive pedestal and takes a deep sniff of the cool night air. Her whole body relaxes as the pleasant scent tantalizes her nose, and she gets a moment of bliss that’s she’s been waiting for all day. She then relaxes on the balcony and her head tilts towards the full moon as her horn glows. The world shifts away into something more sinister than her lavish palace. The obsidian pillars and decorated tiles glow as red veins trace their patterns and bleed into the air around her. The peaceful view of the sleeping city she has claimed as her throne disappears behind a dark, wispy cloud that sinks from the sky, and through the clouds, the silhouettes of dark spires surrounding a gothic throne rise up. Sitting on the throne is the shadow of another being of equine build. As the details become more defined, the spires become dotted with green lights that constantly fade in and out, and the creature on the throne turns out to be an alicorn. When everything is as solid as reality, Nightmare Moon opens her eyes and smiles lovingly at the alicorn. He has piercing green eyes, a gray coat with his mane pulled back and colored in different shades of gray. He’s also donning a green sweater and a dark blue cape held in place by gold pads that have glowing, green stones imbedded in them as well as gauntlets of the same color with the same stones.
“Sirius, I am so happy to finally see you again,” says Nightmare Moon as she approaches him, planks of stone coming from the abyss to assist her in her walk to him. “I must thank you for the gifts you gave me. They will surely help me defeat the Sun.”
Sirius smiles and descends his throne, meeting Nightmare Moon halfway.
“No, it is me who must thank you, my love,” says Sirius, his voice radiating charisma, “for without you, my return will have been just a dream. Do you know how to assemble them?”
Nightmare Moon frowns. “Yes, you’ve already told me how to do it.”
Sirius chuckles as he brushes his hoof affectionately against Nightmare Moon’s cheek, making her close her eyes and purr. He paces around her, eyeing her beautiful figure closely with more planks flying up to keep his pace even.
“Now, now, Nightmare, you know I am merely eager to return to Equus after my,” he takes a deep, scornful breath, “banishment.” He smiles at her when he sees her looking at him. “But thanks to you playing off of my baby sister’s childish ambitions, I will return and rule Equus.”
“You mean ‘We’, Sirius,” sneers Nightmare Moon.
Sirius ascends his throne and turns to the dark alicorn with a thin smile.
“In due time we will rule as one, but first I need you to play your part. Celestia must not live and the Elements destroyed. As long as they have a presence, we cannot wish to have an absolute victory.”
Nightmare Moon takes a couple of paces towards Sirius’s throne.
“And what of Luna?” she asks quizzically.
“Keep her as a token of my appreciation.” Sirius says with a casual wave of his hoof. “Without her, none of this would have been possible.” Sirius extends his hoof, his horn and the stones on the gauntlet shimmer and envelop it in a green fog. Nightmare Moon shudders as she feels a tingling sensation when the mist covers her. “Soon, my love, we will rule more than just Equus. Soon all the Heavens and Hells and Earths will bow before us, and Father and Celestia will pay for their betrayal!”
There is a bright flash of light and Nightmare Moon gasps as her eyes snap open. She’s back in her room, overlooking the balcony, just the way it was before she meditated. Nightmare Moon peeks over the edge and sees a small patrol illuminated by torches clamped to their barding approaching her palace. The patrol is carrying a large box of some kind, but Nightmare Moon can sense the power in the box, and it brings a smile to her face. She hears the door open and meek footsteps approach her, but she doesn’t take her eyes off of the approaching box.
“Your Highness, would you like me to get you anything?” asks a maid.
Nightmare Moon turns around and looks down at the maid. She’s about to tell her servant to get her a big meal, but her smile and desire for such a thing disappears when she senses an unwelcomed guest not too far from her.
“No, you are dismissed.”
The maid nods and practically runs out of the room as Nightmare Moon’s eyes narrow at the hill overlooking the city. She can see a faint glow, like a small star perched on the hill’s apex, and she can feel the eyes of the source locking on to her’s.
“Celestia.”
Celestia launches a spell into the sky, and when its reaches its full height, it pops open with deafening results and momentarily brings sunlight. Nightmare Moon turns away and holds her wing up to shield her eyes from the blinding light. When she does lower her wing and look back, though, her eyes widen and her ears droop from the unexpected wave of blazing rocks being lobbed towards her city. Buildings collapse in mere seconds and the ground shakes with plumes of fiery smoke towering into the sky with each landing stone, drowning out the ringing bells and shouts from the guards and fleeing civilians. Nightmare Moon watches in sick fascination as the endless supply of burning rocks are lobbed into her city, and she’s snapped out of her trance when a portion of the city walls collapse in an inferno. Then she glances down to watch her soldiers clad in lavender armor charge the breach head on.
She growls and launches a spell at the onslaught that explodes into a purple shockwave, reducing the volley into ash. Then she points at the army and her voice rings over the chaos with divine power.
“DEFEND ARMONIA WITH YOUR LIVES!”
Nightmare Moon continues to shout her orders while trying desperately to keep the catapult assault at bay. She can hear the soldiers on both sides fighting and dying behind the clanging metals, magical attacks, and barked orders. At first it looks as though Nightmare Moon’s soldiers’ defenses will hold, but her coat pales when she sees Celestia disappear, only to reappear a second later in the middle of her soldier’s inside a large fireball. The soldiers are seared to crisp skeletons as the fire shoots outward in a deadly shockwave. Then Celestia’s soldiers swarm inside like a deadly, golden wave.
Nightmare Moon snarls and spreads her wings to confront her nemesis and her army, but stops when the doors to the chamber are pushed open followed by frantic galloping. She turns around and smiles with relief when she sees the dozen soldiers from earlier running in. Four of them are carrying a large, golden box with a crescent moon and a sun mixing with each other and a red crown in the middle while the others are acting as their guards. Nightmare Moon teleports in front of them and uses her magic to open the seals on the box. They click and whir as the gears inside turn, and then the top pops off easily while eerie smoke pours out from the interior.
Nightmare Moon quickly levitates six pieces of stones out of the container and carries them to the center of a pedestal located directly under the center of the domed ceiling. After half hazardly placing them on the ground she steps back, closes her eyes and aims her horn at them. Her horn and the pieces brought in glow a dark purple, and the said pieces gradually lift off of the ground. Each piece gives off a burst of energy and the glow around them changes from a dark purple to blue and floats on their own. Nightmare Moon grins and approaches them with her guards cautiously following.
Nightmare Moon guides the first pieces together, they are a snug fit and glow brighter for the briefest of seconds as they fuse as one. The guards look at each other nervously as Nightmare Moon claps her hooves together, cheering about the supposedly simple action. When her short celebration ends, she starts guiding the other pieces together and the lead guard carefully approaches her.
“Your Highness, I’m afraid we cannot hold the city much longer. Celestia is overwhelming our forces,” says the lead guard as two more pieces of the puzzle fuse together.
Nightmare Moon chuckles while slipping the some of last pieces in place. “Fear not, Colonel, for when I open the path to the Allo Kosmo we shall get the help promised to us, and victory will be ours!”
The Colonel gulps nervously. “The Allo Kosmo? But, Your Highness, isn’t that the realm ruled by the Stars?”
Nightmare Moon lifts up the final piece and grins as she studies it by gradually turning it in her grip. “The Stars rule everything, simpleton, but these Stars, and the Banished Prince, will aid us in our victory.”
“The Banished Prince? Your Highness, I never-”
“SILENCE!” The Colonel clamps his mouth shut and Nightmare Moon’s reptilian eyes focus on the spot where the last piece goes. “Soon, nowhere will be safe for Celestia and her pitiful followers. Soon, the Night will reign supreme!”
Nightmare Moon slams the last piece in and at first nothing happens, prompting the dark alicorn to scowl and use magic and muscle to push the piece further in. The guards exchange glances as Nightmare Moon curses under her breath while using all of her might to get the piece in. There is a horrible squeaking noise as her armored hooves dig into the polished tile, making her guards cringe and fold their ears down. After a minute of struggling, Nightmare Moon swears and steps back, panting with her dark coat shining with sweat.
“This is ridiculous! This is unacceptable!” shouts Nightmare Moon. She stomps her hoof and the noise echoes in the empty chamber with deafening results. “WHY ISN’T THIS WORKING!”
A guard bursts through the large double doors and gallops to Nightmare Moon, frantically shouting: “Your Highness, Celestia and her army have breached the palace! We cannot fight them off! We must retreat!”
Nightmare Moon snarls and the guard yelps as she yanks him off of his feet with her magic and brings him close to her snout. Even with her magical grip and his purple armor, the guard is still visibly trembling.
“Fool! We will not be retreating! We will fight the Sun and we will achieve victory!”
Nightmare Moon throws the poor pony against the levitating cube and he falls to the ground, motionless, with a splotch of blood on the cube. The cube suddenly glows a dark red as it hums, and while Nightmare Moon and her guards step back, the pieces of the cube break apart into six smaller cubes. Green light snakes out of the cubes as they grind against each other, burning occult symbols into them, and the cubes make a rumbling sound that shakes the room as they grind against each other. The red gradually dissolves into green and the little cubes twist and turn at a more rapid pace until they are but blurs. Then, they all come to a sudden stop with every side having matching symbols and the whole cube becomes dim. Everyone in the room silently stares at it as it floats on its pedestal, humming and spewing eerie, obscured whispers. The guards look over their shoulders when there is an explosion, closely followed by shouts and soldiers clashing.
Nightmare Moon approaches the cube, grinning eagerly in anticipation as to what will happen next. She doesn’t even turn around when the large doors are disintegrated in a blast of fire, or that Celestia storms the room with a wave of gold armored troops that quickly cut down the guards in a deadly barrage of magic and taloned gauntlets. When Nightmare Moon turns around and sees Celestia standing in the doorway, wearing the jewelry encasing the Elements of Harmony, with her soldiers flanking her, she cackles and jumps down. Celestia remains steadfast while her soldiers take a step back when Nightmare Moon lands.
“You’re too late, Celestia! The Lunar Cube is already activated and soon your precious Sun will be no more!” cackles Nightmare Moon triumphantly.
“Nightmare Moon, release Luna now!” orders Celestia furiously.
She stomps her hoof and a burst of fire erupts under her hoof and burns the ground around her.
Nightmare Moon laughs. “Oh no, your sister belongs to me, now. She will get her little republic, but at the cost of her freedom and the rise of the Eternal Night!” Then in a low tone: “Besides, there’s somepony who's dying to have a word with you.”
The Lunar Cube suddenly shoots out a green shockwave that knocks all of the soldiers down and makes the two alicorns stumble. An earsplitting screaming and a bright beam of light bearing the same color as the shockwave overwhelms the senses as it shoots straight into the sky. The beam breaks through the domed ceiling with ease and most of the debris is sucked up, but a few large pieces of the ceiling breaks loose and falls to the ground. Celestia shields her soldiers from the falling debris and when they hit her shield, they break apart in a flash of golden light. When the light reaches high above the clouds it explodes outward, pushing away every cloud and covering the night sky in a swirl of dark clouds illuminated by lightning slithering in between them.
“What have you done!” cries Celestia over the cube’s screaming and the rolling thunder.
Before Nightmare Moon can answer, a blob speeds down the beam and dives into the dark alicorn’s back. She grunts and stumbles to the ground, cursing about the pain. When Celestia steps forward, Nightmare Moon screams and contorts on the ground, arguing with herself with three different voices. One of which is Luna.
“Luna, can you hear me!” calls Celestia hopefully.
“Tia!” cries Luna as she stretches a hoof out
“She’s mine!” snarls Nightmare Moon.
“Nightmare Moon, surrender now! You cannot win!” says Celestia boldly.
“No, Sister!” hisses Nightmare Moon, but this time she no longer sounds like a power hungry aristocrat, but a stallion instead. A very angry stallion. “You will not keep my throne from ME!”
Celestia and her soldiers take a step back as Nightmare Moon approaches them with wobbly steps, each step making her writhe and curse the stallion possessing her. She is sweating from pain and the light from the cube becomes more intense as it spins faster. She falls to the ground and when she lifts her head up, Celestia sees Luna’s eyes filling with tears of regret and terror.
“I’m sorry, Tia!” sobs Luna.
Celestia cries for Luna as she gallops forward, but is forced to skid to a stop when she sees the monster possessing her sister convulse. When she looks at Celestia again, all the white alicorn sees is a pair of bright green eyes full of loathing and a desire for control.
“The throne of Equus is mine by birthright!” screams the stallion.
“Release my sister now or suffer the consequences!” orders Celestia as she boldly approaches Nightmare Moon while charging her horn.
Nightmare Moon collapses on the ground, gritting her teeth and looking up at Celestia with Luna’s eyes, begging for help. Parts of the palace start collapsing and the debris gets sucked towards the light. The thick pieces of stone set off small flares as they enter, and Celestia’s soldiers cling to whatever their hooves and teeth can grab. Nightmare Moon writhes on the floor again as the three personalities battle for dominance while flapping her wings madly and sprouting out random attacks from her horn. Luna begs Celestia to help her as Nightmare Moon commands the stallion to leave at once, but the stallion is determined to stay. When Nightmare Moon’s spasming ends, she’s on the ground, panting and drenched in sweat and tears. She bares her sharp teeth and shakily pushes herself back to her hooves.
“Do you not recognize my voice, Sister?” sneers the stallion, his voice dominating the other two. “Has Father commanded you to forget about me as well?”
The cube gets a burst of energy that makes the floor crack all round it and suck up the crushed tiles into its magical vacuum. While the stallion laughs from sheer aggravation Celestia’s eyes widen and she waves to her soldiers as she orders them to leave. When they show reluctance, she stomps on the ground and uses her Royal Canterlot voice to order them to do as she commanded. As soon as the guards leave, she turns to Nightmare Moon -or whoever is in control of her now.
“Father always loved you! You and little-” Nightmare Moon grunts painfully and collapses on the ground, still under the control of the mysterious stallion, “Woona!”
Then Nightmare Moon glares at Celestia, this time as herself. “You selfish quim, leave this palace at once! The throne is mine! Equestria is mine!”
Then her facial expression shifts to one of pure terror and Celestia tries to run to her, but a collapsing pillar almost crushes her. As Celestia skids to a stop, the pieces of the pillar that were knocked loose from the impact are sucked away along with more stones and loose items, creating a horrible cloud of garbage.
“Tia, help!” sobs Luna as she extends a hoof.
“Luna, I’m coming!” cries Celestia over the demonic howling of the portal. She charges her horn and shoots out a beam of fire that drills through the pillar and sends its red hot pieces to be greedily sucked away. “Fight them, Luna! Fight them!”
“You forgot about me, didn’t you!” accuses the stallion furiously.
Celestia slides in front of Nightmare Moon, grabs her head with her hooves and looks into her eyes. They are constantly shifting from Luna’s soft, terrified blue eyes, to Nightmare Moon’s power hungry lizard eyes and the stallion’s bright green, hate filled eyes. When they stop at the stallion’s eyes, she hesitates before saying his name. His response is a growl.
“I didn’t forget about you, Sirius,” sniffles Celestia, she puts up a shield in time that crackles when a piece of the collapsed pillar hits it. The pieces bounce off and disappear in a blue flare. “I never forgot about you, but please, let Luna go.”
Then the eyes shift to the lizard’s and Nightmare Moon screams: “NO! SHE’S MINE!” Then she twists away from Celestia and stabs her in the shoulder with her horn. Celestia screams in pain and falls on her back, and when Nightmare Moon twists her horn out of Celestia’s shoulder she screams again and awkwardly puts her hoof over the injury to stop the flowing blood. “LUNA WILL BE MINE, FOREVER!”
There is an earsplitting roll of thunder and the sky cracks open, spilling red light in the palace and revealing a hellish mixture of black and red clouds being illuminated by green lightning. Celestia’s ears flatten when there is a horrendous screeching that is quickly drowned out over a terrifying roar that shakes the palace. Nightmare Moon and the stallion laugh in unison as a slimy tentacle covered in toothed suction cups slithers out.
“The armies of the Dark Stars are almost upon us!” cheers Nightmare Moon triumphantly.
“No! That wasn’t in our arrangement!” cries Luna, horrified by what she’s seeing.
“The doorway is almost opened, Sister,” growls the stallion as his eyes focus on Celestia, “and when it is, you and Father will pay for the ultimate sin!”
Celestia groans as she rolls to her feet, weakly saying: “You were foolish to boast such things, Brother.”
Nightmare Moon’s green eyes widen to that of dinner plates when she -or he, in this case- realizes what was just said. The dark alicorn screams in protest with both tyrannical voices as both alicorns charge their horns for an attack. Celestia’s eyes glow and the jewelry she’s wearing glow like benevolent stars as aims her horn at the spinning cube, which is now but a blur, and Nightmare Moon aims her horn at Celestia. They both fire at the same time with Celestia’s being rainbow colored and Nightmare Moon’s being dark purple. The rainbow beam’s power creates a shockwave that disintegrates Nightmare Moon’s attack and when it strikes the cube, it stops spinning and the rainbow colors overtake the electric blue light created from the device. The tentacled creature howls in pain as the sky closes up, slicing off its exposed tentacle. The tentacle burns to ash when it hits the rainbow and Celestia hears the stallion scream in anguish as the greenish blob he arrived in is sucked out of Nightmare Moon and pulled back to the other dimension before it closes. Then, to her horror, she sees Nightmare Moon surrounded by a rainbow funnel and has to shield her eyes from the explosion of blinding light. She hears Luna scream for her over the sonic boom and crumbling stone. Celestia calls Luna and tries to fly after her as the colorful orb containing Nightmare Moon and her sister is launched into space. But it’s hopeless, the orb is too fast and Celestia watches helplessly as the orb flies into the moon, creating a colorful shockwave that can be seen and heard by all. When the colors disappear, she sees a silhouette of Nightmare Moon imprinted on the moon.
Celestia stares at the moon in disbelief as tears swell in her eyes and roll down her cheeks freely. She can’t speak, can’t think and can hardly breath. Then there is another explosion and Celestia turns around to see six blue orbs fly out of the palace in different directions and disappear across Equestria, but she doesn’t care. She turns her attention back to the moon as she lowers herself back into the palace through the gaping hole in the ceiling, never taking her eyes off of the celestial object and the image imprinted on it. When her hooves touch the destroyed tiles she sits on her haunches and continues to stare at the moon. Then she lets out a choked whimper and looks at the jewelry around her. As Celestia stares at the magickal pendants her sorrow changes to rage. She grits her teeth and yanks off each of the Elements of Harmony, screaming incoherently, and she throws them to the ground and stomps on them, sobbing and ignoring the burning pain in her shoulder. With each stomp, the pieces become grayer and more stone like, and soon the jewelry is nothing but crumbled pieces of stone. Celestia stares at the bits, huffing and crying, and her mane no longer flowing freely, but hanging around her shoulders, messy with loose strands all over being matted to her face, neck, and body from sweat and the muddy dirt and soot from her fight.
She continues to breathe heavily, sniffling and trembling, as she stares at the mess. The once beautiful palace is now dark, ruined, and the grave site for the Elements of Harmony and her family. Celestia sits in her spot, unmoving and crying, for an indefinite amount of time before she wipes her eyes and glares over her shoulder.
“You can stop staring anytime, Custos,” sniffles Celestia.
Custos coolly approaches Celestia from the shadows, saying: “You did what you had to do. Your home is safe for now.”
Celestia snaps around, mane, tail and hooves engulfed in fire. “I LOST MY SISTER AND BROTHER!”
Her scream shakes the building, causing loose debris to fall over, but Custos shows no signs of intimidation.
“Brother by blood, but not by heart,” says Custos simply. “It was for the best. Luna was lost to Nightmare Moon and your father banished Sirius because he cared not for Harmony or Equus, but rather his own ambitions, which led to him breaking the rules of his exile. Despite all of this, however, Nightmare Moon, Luna, and your brother will return in time.”
Celestia knocks the featureless unicorn to his back and presses her hooves against his chest, breathing heavily from rage. Custos, as usual, doesn’t feel threatened in the slightest sense and actually relaxes under the Sun Goddess’s crushing hooves.
“Enough with your lies! I banished them with the Elements of Harmony! They won’t return!” Then she returns to her normal self and collapses to the ground, crying. “Why did the Elements do that? I could’ve saved Luna. I could’ve talked sense into Sirius.”
“Just like you could’ve saved Discord from himself?” Celestia looks up at Custos as stands up and she averts her eyes when he gazes down at her. “Your father created the Elements of Harmony to protect Equus. They care not for blood relations or deep friendships. A threat is a threat and they will remove them as they see fit. But, as I said, they will be back, and when Luna is freed from Nightmare Moon, Sirius will no doubt make his return.” Celestia looks at Custos, sniffling and eyes red and puffy. “Your brother’s lust for power knows no bounds and he will not stop until he gets what he wants. Or until he’s killed.”
Celestia’s jaw drops and Custos leaves without another word, and when Celestia calls after him, he melts into the shadows. Celestia stares at where the mysterious unicorn disappeared to for a moment before curling up on the ground and weeping in her hooves with the only light being the moon and stars shining down on her.
Present Day Equestria.
Dr. Time Turner Whooves’ grumbles and curls up tighter on a wooden floor carpeted with rotten hay, his shackles clinking together in harmony with his shifting. Add in the crowded cart with tiny holes for windows and the unnerving noise from the train’s whistling engine and the churning wheels rolling against the railroad tracks, and Time Turner finds himself in the first ring of Hell. The stench of sweat from the body heat being trapped inside the cart doesn’t help make the situation any better, either.
Time Turner wearily looks around at the silent, miserable bunch around him; stallions of all shapes and sizes and races are crammed into the cart, each with their own special pile of old hay and collars around their necks. Every prisoner is cuffed with enchanted clamps that are connected to a series of chains that link them all together. There is only the working wheels of the train and rushing wind that bring any sort of noise to the terrified prisoners.
When the train screeches to a stop, some of the prisoners wobble in their spots due to a moment of lost balance, and when it lurches to a complete stop Time Turner feels like he’s going to puke. The prisoners whisper to each other nervously as they hear guards outside conversing amongst themselves. Then the locks click, the metal bars are dragged off and the door slides open to reveal a group of six guards aiming their battle saddles at them, being supervised by a pegasus mare with a snowy white coat and brown mane and tail with a cutie mark of a cloud containing a snowflake standing in the middle. While the prisoners are terrified, she looks pissed about being stuck in a baking wasteland. She orders the guards to get the prisoners out, and the lead guard levitates a chain with a clamp at the end and grabs the nearest prisoner. They tug the prisoners out and while most fought to stay inside, Time Turner willingly stood up and hopped out of the cart. He is immediately greeted by the rays of sunlight, free to blind and cook whoever they wish because of the cloudless sky.
The guards line up the prisoners so that they are all facing the pegasus, and she inspects each of them, one at a time, closely. She puts the big stallions in one line, the scrawny stallions in another, and the ones in between in another. Time Turner is put with the ones in between. The prisoners shift uneasily as the pegasus gets on top of a stand that a couple of guards brought, then leans towards a microphone that another guard brought and adjusted so that she can talk into it comfortably.
“Colts, you have been brought to the Badlands Mine under the charge of crimes against the state,” says the pegasus, her voice authoritative and clear. “The nature and severity of your crime will determine how long you are here, and you best pray to Celestia that your time here will be quick, because here, there is no place for sympathy or ease. Here, my word is law, and my law comes from the will of Celestia herself. So to defy me is to defy your goddess.”
She motions towards each group.
“You have been split into three groups based on your build. Further assessment will determine a more accurate placement. Group one,” she points at the largest stallions, “your job will be to drag the carts towards the processing stations.”
She points to the second group, the one Time Turner is in.
“Group two, you will be in the mines, and depending on where you are placed, you will either be harvesting ores or gems.”
Then she points to the final group consisting of the scrawny stallions.
“You’ll be the cleaners.”
She stands up straighter, puffing out her chest and flaunting her wings.
“You will be led to your respective quarters. There you will live your new life, and if you follow the rules, you will survive. Dismissed.”
The pegasus hops off and while a small team of guards carry away the box and microphone, the lead guard steps forward and orders the prisoners to march forward. Time Turner makes no protest as he follows his group to a blocky structure that is not too surprisingly covered in dust and worn away. The structure is not too big: it stands only four stories and on each corner is a pudgy watch tower with the wall surrounding it having towers on the corners as well. Time Turner looks at one of the towers and sees the gleaming metal of a turret poking out. He immediately averts his eyes. When they get past the wall, the column of prisoners shuffle past a chain link fence keeping them away from the hardened prisoners, who are either sitting under crude gazebos, bleachers, or by the wall, or playing a brutal game of hoofball without any padding. Time Turner looks at a group of prisoners who are sitting on some bleachers, and from the looks of it they are betting on something. One pony, who is sitting in the middle of the group with a brown coat and white spots, is staring at Time Turner in such a way that makes his mane crawl. Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t blink, or how his head is turning to follow him. Or maybe it’s the way the creepy stallion licks his lips. Whatever the case may be, Time Turner feels sick just by looking at him.
When they get inside the building, which is thankfully fitted with powerful air conditioning, the guards lead them to a corridor and has all of them stand against the wall. Then they unclip the first prisoner from the chains and leads him inside a room, leaving the others outside at the mercy of the guards. Five minutes later, the guards call in the next prisoner. Time Turner peers down the line and immediately gets scolded by the guards, so he pushes himself back and locks himself in place. His quick glance, told him enough, though. Each prisoner takes roughly five minutes to be processed and adding in the thirty seconds of shit happens, multiply that by the two dozen prisoners with him being at the very end...
“Curses,” mutters Time Turner as he slumps to the ground.
~~~~~~~~~~
Time Turner waits over two hours before he’s finally brought into a carpeted room that has a shower stall in the back corner, the Solar Empire of Equestria’s seal on the back wall, and a group of guards in uniform with a unicorn wearing a lab coat next to them. The unicorn stallion has a grayish-purple coat with a peppered brown mane and dark purple streaks at the base, and a moon surrounded by dust as a cutie mark. The unicorn with the lab coat has a name tag that has “Dust” imprinted on it, and he’s also levitating a clipboard while mumbling to himself.
“Dr. Time Turner Whooves, Manehatten Institute of Technology dropout, Ponyville clock maker, and labeled as a homegrown terrorist by the Equestrian Investigation Bureau.” the scientist says lightly. He lowers his clipboard and flashes a surprisingly warm smile. “But we all know you are no terrorist, Doctor, you just had the misfortune of being a victim of paranoia.”
“Nebulus,” drawls one of the guards impatiently.
Nebulus apologizes, but his sincerity of the apology is in doubt, and even though the cooky unicorn seemed to be sincere about his sympathy with Time Turner’s plight, Time Turner still doesn’t feel any better. Nebulus steps clears his throat and peers down at the clipboard, complaining about how he shouldn’t be here like he’s not really upset, just wanting to run his mouth.
“Now then!” says Nebulus suddenly, his horn glowing and various pieces of measuring equipment floating around. “We’re off for some measurements!”
Nebulus measures Time Turner while asking him a series of questions ranging from his diet to the weather, and his favorite food to his favorite past-time. The way Nebulus rambles on and on about all kinds of trivial things while doing his work reminds Time Turner of Rarity when she made his tuxedo for his wedding. Or when Fluttershy got drunk, courtesy of Rainbow Dash switching her apple juice with the strongest drink the ‘Shamrock Breeze Tavern’ had to offer. That hilarious moment cracks a smile on his face.
“So, any family?” asks Nebulus as he measures Time Turner’s forehooves.
Time Turner stiffens and his jaw tightens as his eyes narrow on the ponies in front of him. His nostrils flare while he shifts in his spot, making some of the guards visibly tense and eye him more carefully.
“Of course you do!” blurts Nebulus, snapping Time Turner out of his hostile trance. “You aren’t a test tube pony! Although, that would be interesting.”
Nebulus stops and taps his chin with his hoof, musing about the possibilities of growing ponies from test tubes. Time Turner flinches when Nebulus unexpectedly snaps his focus back to him. Then he swears under his breath when Nebulus yanks out a strand of his mane, root and all, and sticks it in a vial.
“Oh stop being such a baby,” teases Nebulus. “Actually, yes. Be more of a baby. You’re a quiet fellow. Like tree quiet, and even then trees aren’t that quiet because-”
“Nebulus, stay on subject,” says the same guard from earlier.
Nebulus gives him a dirty look, saying: “I’m doing science! Science requires questions! Science requires observations! Science requires-” Nebulus yanks out a needle, sticks it in Time Turner’s hoof, right above a vein, and over the surprised yelp from the earth pony, he says: “Blood samples!”
When he fills up the veil, he chuckles devilishly and swishes the red fluid around in morbid fascination before labeling it and securing it in a suitcase of other vails. When that is said and done, he puts a small bandage over the point of entry and slaps Time Turner in the rump, making him yelp again and jump as his face burns from embarrassment.
“Off to the shower with you!” orders Nebulus cheerfully.
Time Turner reluctantly heads to the shower stall, and once inside, he realizes that there is no showerhead. He turns around to say something, but gets a face full of powdered soap instead. He coughs and sputters as he wipes his face, but before he can get them all off, a jetstream of freezing cold water sprays all over him from a hose being manned by one of the guards.
“Turn!” barks the guard.
Time Turner turns around and winces when he feels the powdered soap collide with his backside. And when the ice cold water is sprayed over the soap, he just wants to die from the unpleasant feeling of the icy feeling all over his back, tail and privates. The guard orders him to turn to his side, and he gets another blast of soap and water, and when he’s all cleaned off he steps out and is dried off by another one of the old guards. The remaining guard attaches a saddle on his back with clothing, recreational and working, and a hard hat stuffed in the saddle bag.
“Doctor, you’re fitness is remarkable for a bookworm, do you work out?” asks Nebulus, prompting Time Turner to inadvertently give him a harsh stare. “Nevermind, for your surprisingly good build we are putting you in the ore mines. Luckily for you, its close to the dining halls and your block.”
The guards tug on the leash around Time Turner’s neck, lead him out of the accursed room and down the dead halls of the prison. Time Turner cranes his neck to look at the orange colors of dusk shine through the windows, and when he’s brought to his cell there’s barely enough room for him to maneuver in. The room only has a rock hard cot with a hay mattress crudely tossed on, and a thin blanket and pillow to go with it. There is also a small window that is taunting him of the freedom he cannot have by giving him a view of the Macintosh Hills. The snow capped mountains and their majestic trees seem unreal with the sun setting behind them. Time Turner stands on his hind legs and presses his face against the bars, and for a moment, its just him and the possibility of freedom and being reunited with his loved ones.
“Always the same,” grumbles the guard quietly as Time Turner slowly paws at the bars, whimpering quietly.
Time Turner looks over his shoulder and watches the bars making up his door slide shut. When they close and lock, the bang and click echoes in the dead halls of his new home. When the guard is out of sight, Time Turner sighs, slides down to his hooves, and climbs on his bed wanting to do nothing more than sleep. But alas, sleep eludes him when he hears the marching of hundreds of sets of hooves and guards shouting for prisoners to stay in line. He lifts his head slightly and watches prisoners dressed in gray and all wearing collars walk past his cell, including the spotted pony looking at him when he first arrived. The said pony flashes another smile directed towards him and Time Turner looks away, once again feeling sick in his stomach.
When all the prisoners are locked safely away in their cells, the guards leave and metal slabs slide over the window, blocking out the sun and encasing the block in a blanket of darkness. Time Turner sighs and pulls the blanket over himself and shuts his eyes, hoping for a good night’s rest.
“Helllllooooo newcomers!” shouts one of the prisoners. “Here at the Badlands Mine we like to welcome our new family with the hospitality our fair piece of the world is known for!”
Time Turner opens his eyes, scowling and makes a low, irritated grumble as other seasoned prisoners make shoutouts to the newcomers with hoots and hollers and vulgar language about having their way with their mothers, sisters, and anyone else they can think of. The situation is made worse when the seasoned prisoners bang on their bars and call out cell numbers belonging to the new prisoners. Some argue which prisoner will belong to who, and it usually comes down to a “share and care” type deal. The claimed prisoners are silent as they push themselves further back in their cells, hoping that they can melt into the walls and escape the Hell they are in. But when Time Turner’s cell number is called, everyone goes silent, and Time Turner buries himself under the blanket.
“Cell N One Nine Six Three, you’re mine!” yells the prisoner that called him again. “And I’m not sharing him with anypony, you got that!”
Time Turner closes his eyes as tight as they can go and pulls the ratty pillow over his ears. The voice echoes in his mind and he tries to escape by tightening the blanket around him, but there is no escape. He only feels more trapped now, and he lets out a little whimper with a single tear rolling down his cheek as he realizes now knows there is no escaping the Badlands Mine.
[[[[O]]]]
Time Turner wearily stumbles into his abode late at night, covered in mud and dead tired from the all day protests against the Special Talent Act and the nationalization of farms. His eyes feel like they weigh a ton each and kept sliding shut. When he snaps his eyes open in a feeble attempt to keep himself awake, he wobbles towards the light switch and flicks it on. Everything was where it was supposed to be. The couches and chairs were set up around a glass coffee table, leaving a comfortable opening to their radio and phonogram. The family and wedding pictures are all there, including a timeline of Dinky growing up. Even his expensive griffin rug retains its glamorous look. However, there are four ponies he does not recognize waiting for him in the living room. All of them are wearing dark coats and suits, and the only one who isn’t wearing any sunglasses or isn’t a unicorn is an earth pony relaxing on his chair. The stallion is wearing a worn stetson that goes nicely with his attire, is barely older than Applejack and admittedly very handsome. Like stallions would turn gay and lesbians renounce their sexuality for him kind of handsome.
“Sorry ‘bout the whole setup here,” says the stallion with a heavy Appleloosan twang, “but Ah figured if ya saw yer lights on when nopony was home you’d gone and bolt.”
Time Turner blinks a couple of times before shaking his head to distract himself from the stallion’s good looks.
“Ah’m Agent Braeburn of the Civilian Defense Agency and Ah have no intention of hurtin’ you or anypony else. Ah jus’ wanna have a few words with ya.”
Time Turner’s thoughts on how ridiculously good looking the stallion is flies right out the window when he admitted to being CDA. He gulps nervously and takes a step back, making the unicorns step forward and one of them use their magic to lock the door. Time Turner feels himself shaking with cold beads of sweat sliding down his neck as he stares at the unwelcomed guests.
“How-How did you know the house was empty?” stammers Time Turner.
“Well, Derpy’s shift is suppose ta end in another four hours, but we already picked her up, and yer daughter is at the Unicorn Range Summer Camp,” replies Braeburn. He stood up and began pacing around the furniture set. “Time Turner, Ah wanna make it clear, Ah don’t want any trouble, but Ah have ta bring ya in fer some questionin’.”
Time Turner pales and his eyes dart between Braeburn and the other ominous ponies standing around him.
“What are you going to do with my family?” asks Time Turner, trying to act brave but everyone can see him trembling and sweating.
Braeburn smiles reassuringly, but that only makes him more terrifying. “Don’tcha worry ‘bout a thing, the CDA will take care o’ yer family. We just need ta have a little talk about yer activities. Nothin’ serious, jus’ some questions.”
“I did nothing wrong!” says Time Turner defensively as he tries to back up, but he ends up backing himself into a corner. He shrinks down as the other ponies being led by Braeburn closes in on him. “The Solar Doctrine gives the citizens of Equestria the right to assemble!”
“We’re under martial law, remember? The Solar Doctrine holds no value when that’s goin’ on.” Time Turner gulps as Braeburn towers above him, his pupil shifting to green. “Jus’ cooperate with us and nopony will get hurt, okay?”
[[[[O]]]]
“RISE AND SHINE, COLTS!” shouts one of the guards as he marches down the hall with a bell ringing over the intercom.
Time Turner pokes his head out from under the blanket and has to squint his eyes as the slabs of metal covering the large windows are pulled up, letting in the morning rays of sunshine. He groggily climbs out of his bed and puts on his work clothes when ordered to do so by the guards. When he slips on the thick, drabby miner’s outfit after some difficulty he stands in front of the door, waiting for it to open. There is a buzz and all the doors slide open at the same time, grinding against the concrete floor in the process. Time Turner steps out immediately with the other prisoners and they are led outside by the guards, with more of them keeping their weapons trained on them from higher levels.
Once outside, Time Turner looks at the rising sun, captivated by the way its partially hidden by the mountains and how everything seems so innocent with the orange hue.
“Keep moving!” barks one of the guards as he jabs Time Turner in the ribs.
Time Turner picks up his pace to an almost full on run until he catches up with the group he came out with. The group files into a kitchen that is just as dull as the rest of the prison. The monotonous colors, steel tables, and seemingly endless wave of gray ponies is enough to bore anyone into a depression. That is if they are not depressed already. When it’s Time Turner’s turn to get his food, he gets a pancake with a glass of milk and a bowl of oatmeal served by a mare in a prisoner outfit with a fork and spoon stitched on her shoulder.
“Enjoy,” drones the server.
Time Turner silently nods to acknowledge what she said as he carefully carries his dish to his table. Since he arrived later, there aren’t many places for him to go, but he does find a good spot in the very back, where there is a minimal amount of prisoners. He takes the back corner and tries to enjoy his drabby meal in silence, but his hopes for a quiet breakfast is ruined when a tray slides next to him and two more slide across him. Then, to his horror, the same spotted pony that gave him the creeps slides next to him and two more earth ponies, each covered in scars and grime, slide across from him, grinning maniacally.
“Do you know who I am?” says the spotted pony.
“Should I?” asks Time Turner quietly, mentally kicking himself for saying something so snappy to someone who looks like he’d make a great timberwolf.
The pony nickers and wraps his hoof around Time Turner’s shoulder and hugs him closer. “I like this guy already, he has a cute accent. Trottingham, right?”
Time Turner forces himself to smile as the three guests chuckle and throw in their two cents on his “cute accent”.
“The name is ‘Toolbox’,” says the spotted pony while forcing Time Turner to shake hooves with him, “and who might you be?”
“Dr. T-Time Turner Whooves,” mumbles Time Turner.
“Ah, we got ourselves a doctor. What kinda doctor are you? Hoof doctor? Eye doctor? Mind doctor? A real doctor?”
Time Turner shakes his head. “I fixed and built clocks.”
“A time doctor,” breathes one of Toolbox’s friends in amazement; he has an orange coat with a blue mane and a pair of shoes as a cutie mark.
“Don’t be an idiot, Shoe Shine, there’s no such thing as a time doctor,” scolds the second pony; him having a blue coat with his mane and tail colored red with streaks of orange running through them. His cutie mark is a microphone.
“Easy, Alto, you know Shoe isn’t the brightest bulb,” reasons Toolbox harshly, making Shoe Shine glare at him while Alto snickers. “So, Dr. Whooves, if your special talent is time related, does that mean you’re really good at timing things?”
“I-I guess so.”
“So you can count very well and schedule things to near perfection?”
Time Turner looks down, nodding, and inadvertently remembering the night his world got worse.
“You could say that,” says Time Turner quietly.
===
“Well, I have to say that that was an exhausting event,” complained Time Turner as he finished loading up the last of the boxes of fliers. “I could really use a cup of tea and one of Derpy’s muffins right now.”
Applejack snickered and playfully nudged Time Turner’s ribs while folding up the banner that was hanging on Ponyville Townhall. “What kinda earth pony are ya, gettin’ all worn out by talkin’ and handin’ out fliers like that?”
Time Turner frowned. “I also had to make sure everything was taken care of and timed to perfection.” He then pulled out a list from his saddlebag, not noticing Applejack trying desperately to contain her snicker, and began checking off the appropriate items. When he realized that Applejack was stifling a snicker, he stopped, spat out his pen and stared at the farmer. “Is something wrong, Applejack?”
Applejack shook her head and walked away, giggling about how he and Twilight have a lot in common. His eyes followed Applejack as she approached Twilight, whom looked less than pleased by what she’s seeing. The two Elements have a small conversation that ends with the lavender’s unicorn’s eyes bulging and her ears and cheeks flushing red. Then Twilight got deadly serious, scolded Applejack and walked off with a huff, but not without stealing a glance at Ponyville’s resident clock expert first. Time Turner looked at Twilight and she galloped away while Applejack ragged on her about seeing what she did. Applejack trotted back to Time Turner with an unusually smug smile and he furrowed his brow and looked away from her to continue with his checklist.
“Didja see Twilight checkin’ ya out?” teased Applejack.
“I’m married,” said Time Turner sourly with the pen in his mouth.
“Yeah, Ah know, but Ah was just wonderin so that way ya can back me up in case she tries t’ deny the whole thing.”
Time Turner once again spat out his pen. “You’re the Element of Honesty, why would anypony think your lying?”
Applejack just smiled and walked away without saying another word, and Time Turner rolled his eyes and went back to his checklist.
===
“Oh, can you tell time by looking at the sun?” asks Shoe Shine eagerly, snapping Time Turner out of his thoughts. “I hear that the buffalo can do that!”
Time Turner glances at the sunlight seeping through the dining room window.
“He can’t do that! That’s just a stupid-”
“It’s nine thirty four,” blurts Time Turner, completely interrupting Alto.
Toolbox whistles, Shoe Shine grins, and Alto gives Time Turner the most terrifying, malicious glare he’s ever seen. Time Turner shrinks down, nibbling at his breakfast, and Toolbox looks over his shoulder and laughs amusingly as he points at a clock hanging on the wall.
“Well, cuff me, gag me, and send me to Shining Armor with a bowtie, he’s right!” laughs Toolbox. “I knew I made a great choice picking you. Stick with me, Whooves, and nopony will mess with you. Not even the guards.”
“He cheated,” sneers Alto, still holding his glare.
Time Turner shrinks down even further when the accusing pony narrows his eyes at him.
“Is somepony jealous?” teases Toolbox.
Before Alto can answer, the bell rings and the guards shout for everyone to get up and head outside. It doesn’t take long to make Time Turner realize he’s been underestimating how much trouble he’s in. As soon as he goes outside he immediately feels the uncompromising, flesh-burning heat of the morning sun. And as if the heat isn’t bad enough, he can hear the small army of collared ponies trudging through the burning sand with the squeaking wheels that mark the carts carrying their cargo.
The guards lead the prisoners past a steel, barb wired gate with a sign labeled “BADLANDS MINE and PENITENTIARY” propped above it. Upon passing the gate,Time Turner’s muscles do everything in their power to make him turn tail and run. Fortunately for him, two things happen: one, his brain is smart enough to keep his legs in check, and two, someone was thinking the exact same thing that he was. The pony, a pegasus with his wings cuffed to his sides, attempts to make a run for it, but is tackled to the ground and brutally subdued by two pegasi guards that attacked him from their hidden perches. Time Turner closes his eyes and tries not to think about the poor pegasus’s protests and the guards’ shouting.
They are led to a hellish landscape comprised of a giant crater dug into the ground and deep gashes in the mountainsides, perpetrated by the enormous drills and other oversized steampunkish vehicles. All the tunnels are connected together by a series of catwalks and rail systems that help the bigger stallions pull the carts of mined materials to be stored in larger vehicles, which carry them to a building hidden behind a large wall. The only thing anyone can really see of the building is the heavily defended walls and the spires spewing out smoke. The mine is also being guarded by a single armored zeppelin with the sun of the Solar Empire painted on its side gliding in lazy circles, forever watching every move.
As Time Turner shuffles towards his destination, he swears he hears the Equestrian national anthem playing. He tries to push that notion out of his mind and focus on what has to be done while the guards ferry the prisoners to their respective groups, leading them to whatever forsaken tunnel they have to work in after giving them their tools. Unfortunately for Time Turner, he’s stuck with the three ponies that interrupted his peace. He tries to outwalk them, but they are persistent. Alto and Shoe Shine flank him and Toolbox steps in front of Time Turner, matching his brisk pace.
“Where do you think you’re going? You have to stick with us,” says Toolbox.
“I-I um I have to-to do the um mining... thing,” stammers Time Turner.
“So do we, Whooves, but you don’t see us scampering away from each other, do you?” Time Turner shakes his head quickly. “I’ll let this slide because you’re new, but remember, you belong to me. You follow me where I go, you laugh when I tell a joke, and if I tell you to stab somepony, you do it.”
Time Turner gulps and his ears droop while Alto chuckles, but Shoe Shine wraps his hoof around the brown pony’s neck with feigned love.
“Aw, don’t be like that to the new guy, Toolbox, you’re scaring him,” jokes Shoe Shine harshly.
“Then he better toughen up,” snarls Alto. Then to Time Turner: “Consider yourself lucky that you aren’t being shared and that you’re with us instead of somepony else, like Nimbus.”
“Nimbus got especially nasty when he found out somepony murdered his boy,” warns Shoe Shine.
“Yeah, and the dumbass thinks I had something to do with it,” grumbles Toolbox. “It’d be nice if he thought for a moment. What could I have possibly done to get Sunshine killed when I’m stuck in this Celestia-forsaken place?”
“To be fair, you did try to kill that freak with a bomb a few years ago,” points out Alto.
“Okay, it might also be bad for you if you’re with us, since Nimbus automatically hates you since we claimed you,” says Shoe Shine to Time Turner as they walk past a trio of pegasi giving them the death glare. “But the good news is, you aren’t being shared.”
Time Turner’s blood drains from his face when he realizes how screwed he is in the forsaken prison. As much as he wants to think about something positive, like Derpy’s muffins or Dinky’s pictures, the idea of being on a hitlist overshadows any hope of staying positive. He starts worrying that he’ll get pummeled in the shower, stabbed in a mine, or pummeled in a mine, then stabbed in a shower and bleed to death in an infirmary because of inadequate doctors. To add to Time Turner’s blight, he’s also certain that the Nimbus-Toolbox rivalry is racially driven, given that every pony he has seen being associated with Toolbox has been an earth pony and Nimbus had just pegasi. So, even if he wasn’t part of Toolbox’s gang he’d still get brutalized in some horrible fashion. But it is as Shoe Shine stated, at least he isn’t being shared.
While Toolbox explains the “Laws of the Badlands”, he throws in a gratuitous amount of racial slurs targeting pegasi and unicorns, but mostly pegasi. However, Time Turner isn’t paying much attention to what Toolbox is saying, rather he’s worrying about whether Derpy is in a hellhole like his, given that the CDA picked her up to. His thoughts are interrupted when they walk by another group of pegasi, and unlike the little groups they passed, this one has close to a dozen of them.
“How much bread do you wanna bet Nimbus is hiding in there?” jokes Alto.
Time Turner asks which one Nimbus is while walking past the group, but Alto’s only description is “the ugly one” and Shoe Shine remains quiet. Only Toolbox gives him a good description.
“He’s not in there. But Nimbus has a gray coat and black hair, kinda fading, and his cutie mark is a tornado. If you get pummeled by any of those featherbrains you let me know. You’re my property and I take care of what is mine.”
Time Turner is at a loss of words as to what to say about Toolbox’s statement, so he does the only thing he can do. Stay silent and follow them into the mine, it’s not like he has much of a choice anyway.
Time Turner goes inside a tunnel marked “063” with the three other ponies, now wearing masks with their hard hats and boots designed to resemble diamond dog claws. The tunnel walls are surprisingly smooth and has lights hanging on the walls and ceiling with enchanted wooden beams holding the tunnel up. However, the deeper they go, the darker it becomes and the louder the digging and conversations of the miners become. Time Turner also notices that there are shielded boxes drilled into the wall and that the largest of the stallions are strapped to rusty carts, waiting for a full load. Once their cart is filled up, the prisoner that did the last load taps the stallion three times to let them know that their load is full. After that, the stallion leaves for his long journey out of the dark cold tunnel to the bright, scorching earth above.
Despite the dim lighting, Time Turner can still make out some of the ponies easily. They are clawing like mad at the rock wall, knocking loose large chunks of rocks into baskets attached to saddles, much like what he’s seen on Sweet Apple Acres. Once the baskets are filled, they carry them to the carts and dump them off, resuming their work shortly after.
“Hey, Whooves, pay attention, I don’t want to see you jumped,” says Toolbox sternly while pushing Time Turner towards the other two ponies.
The trio is unaware of a group of seven pegasi stallions approaching them with malicious smiles. When Alto notices the approaching pegasi he furrows his brow and nudges Toolbox, alerting him of their company. Toolbox faces the lead pegasus and offers a less than friendly smile while Alto and Shoe Shine flank him; Time Turner decides it is in his best interest to stand behind Toolbox’s gang.
“So, this is your new pet?” chuckles the lead pegasus; he has a green coat, a blue mane and tail, and has a sun inside a cloud as a cutie mark. His smile turning more sinister when he sees Time Turner cowering in the back. “Looks like you're losing your touch, Tool. Picking out the weakest of the litter is a horrible strategy.”
“Your featherbrain just can’t comprehend what’s going on, Cum Bucket,” taunts Toolbox.
The pegasus sneers. “That’s Cumulus.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Toolbox brushes past Cumulus and his guards, his posse following close behind with Time Turner keeping his head down. “By the way, don’t forget to tell your old man that his empire is through, here and in Barnville.”
Cumulus growls while scuffing at the ground. “Keep talking big, dirt walker, we’ll see how far that gets you.”
Toolbox and his gang, minus Time Turner, laugh and wave their hooves around like cheap ghosts. Time Turner, on the other hand, shrinks behind the group, mostly out of the sake of self-preservation since he can feel the pegasi’s mental crosshairs lock on to him.
“Better to be grounded than with our heads in the clouds,” retorts Toolbox after returning to all fours.
“I-I don’t think you should antagonize him,” suggests Time Turner nervously. “they um kinda outnumber us.”
Toolbox and his gang stop everything to glare at Time Turner while Cumulus’s demented smile returns to meet with his guards’ snickering.
“That’s right, listen to the coward,” snickers Cumulus, now walking away with his posse. “He just might save your life. Colts, lets get out of here, a tunnel is only fit for dirt walkers.”
The pegasi walk away, being sure to kick some rubble to them on their way out. When the pegasi are out of sight, Toolbox sighs heavily and turns to face Time Turner. Alto and Shoe Shine stand behind Time Turner to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. Time Turner’s pupils shrink and his ears droop as he cowers under the wrathful glare of his self-proclaimed master. Toolbox puts his hoof on Time Turner’s shoulder, making him wince when the boot’s claws part his skin.
“Listen here, Whooves, because I’m only telling you this once,” growls Toolbox. He throws Time Turner on the ground, leaving a nasty series of gashes on his shoulder and down his leg. Time Turner cries in pain and trashes on the ground, only stopping when Alto presses his hoof down on his neck. Time Turner sniffles and whimpers as his blood trickles to the nasty ground. Toolbox kneels next to Time Turner and presses his hoof against his head. “I may take care of what is mine, but since you are mine I can discipline you however I please. You just embarrassed me in front of one of Nimbus’s lieutenants, and that calls for immediate discipline.”
Time Turner’s eyes widen when Toolbox raises his hoof, then the last thing he sees before blacking out is the sole of a boot.
=**********=
In a simple wooden shack overlooking all of the Badlands Mine, Nebulus stands by a grungy window, watching everyone do their duty. He blows raspberries and unenthusiastically shifts through a stack of manila folders in a little basket labeled as “Newcomers” resting on the desk. A few seconds later, he puts the folders back and looks up at the ceiling fan while furrowing his sweaty brow, watching it spin in lazy circles. His horn and the fan glow a dark purple, giving the fan gets a burst of energy that cools of the room nicely, thus making Nebulus a happy unicorn for the time being.
He relaxes in the chair and stares at the door, hoof tapping the desk in sync with the clock’s ticking. When the pegasus running the mine walks in, her stature, like most pegasi, is proud, and, like most pegasi when they see an unwanted guest on their cloud, she scowls. The stallion smirks at her behavior as he stands up to greet her.
“Nebulus, what are you doing in my office?” snarls the mare.
“I’m working, like I always do, Frost,” says Nebulus coolly. Frost snorts and he arches an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”
“You know damn well what’s wrong,” sneers Frost, ruffling her feathers.
“I guess breaking into your office was a bad move, then.” Nebulus looks at the clock hanging on the wall. “But not to worry, I’ll be outta your mane in just a little bit, I just need the progress report about the excavation.”
“Here’s the simple version: If you want more progress, give us more clouds.”
“Clouds aren’t my department.”
“The prisoners are being cooked alive out there!”
Nebulus shrugs. “What do you want me to do? Call Hoofington and ask them if they can spare some clouds?”
“It’s Hoofington, they can spare enough clouds to cover this place twice.”
Nebulus chuckles and relaxes in the chair, ignoring the pegasus’s glare.
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll talk to Major Fuller about your cloud problem and see if he’ll get our friends in Hoofington to spare some clouds.”
Frost’s eyes narrow. “You better, because Fuller’s operation depends on the prisoners’ well being.”
Nebulus stands up and approaches Frost, he’s about to say something, but stops halfway and sniffs obnoxiously. Frost scowls and takes a step back when Nebulus sniffs again, this time leaning towards her. She has to put her hoof against his chest to keep him from sniffing her face, but he still leans forward, thus making her lean back.
“Nebulus, what are you doing!”
Nebulus takes one last sniff before saying: “You smell funny.”
Frost growls and stomps the floor while pointing at the door.
“Get out!”
“Jeeze, relax, I’m just saying you smell.”
Frost scoffs in disgust and doesn’t give Nebulus the chance to defend his poor choice of words. She pushes him out with enough force to send him falling on the ground on his face, kicking up a cloud of dirt upon impact. He gets up, shakes dirt out of his mane and then turns to Frost.
“'Nice'! I was trying to say ‘You smell nice’! Like vanilla bean nice!”
“Just get me more clouds, Nebulus!” orders Frost.
“Will do!” chirps Nebulus, grinning broadly.
Frost slams the door shut and the cheerful unicorn stares at the door for a couple more seconds before walking towards his living quarters, whistling a happy tune. He hears Frost call him when he’s a few paces away, and he turns to see her trot towards him with a manilla folder in her mouth.
“Here’s your progress report for Fuller,” Frost says moodily as soon as he takes the folder from her with his magic.
Nebulus thanks her and her only reply is a grunt before she trots back to her shack. When her door closes, he resumes his unpleasant walk in the blistering heat, his smile growing bigger and his steps turning to childish skips.
“Yeah, she totally digs me,” says Nebulus proudly, then he slows to a stop and uses the folder to shield his eyes from the relentless onslaught of the sun’s rays. “Dear Celestia, we really do need more clouds up here.”
=**********=
It is late at night, and an armored train is speeding down the tracks, heading towards the mountains that guard the Badlands. The new moon and thick cloud coverage almost makes the night pitch black, but the train acts as an illuminated blur as light escapes its windows.
Inside the train, guarding a prisoner shackled to the ground with thick chains and even thicker shackles is a nervous unicorn Royal Guard. The Royal Guard tries to keep himself calm by reading a romance novel titled “Legends of Autumn”, but peace eludes him. His eyes keep drifting back to the prisoner, and the prisoner has yet to take his eyes off of him. He has been silent the whole time he has been in their custody, only moving his legs every so often as far as they could go. The young guard is guessing that it was probably due to cramps, but that doesn’t make him feel any more at ease. Just about every prisoner he’s encounter has either given him a death glare or tried to mock him, but not this one. Nope, this one just stares. It’s not even an angry stare or a sad stare; it’s empty. It’s like the prisoner is lost in his own little world and his eyes just happened to be looking at him when he zoned out.
The guard jumps when the door opens up and a seasoned unicorn guard walks in with a tray of food levitating in front of him.
“Relax, Rookie, it’s just me,” says the new guard.
“Sorry, Sarge, just a little jumpy from that guy staring at me all day.”
Sarge walks up to the prisoner, and he admits he’d be scared to approach him if the prisoner wasn’t shackled since the red stallion is, to put lightly, a titan among ponies.
“Has he said a word?” asks Sarge.
“No sir.”
“...Has he even blinked?”
“I doubt it, sir.”
Sarge waves his hoof in front of the prisoner’s eyes; the only reaction is a slight twitch.
“Are you going to talk anytime soon?” asks Sarge with a condescending tone.
The prisoner blinks.
“I think he might be a mute, sir,” says Rookie, “I mean he hasn’t said a word the whole time he’s been here.”
“That... that could explain a lot actually.” Then he turns to Rookie with a shrug while levitating the tray on a small table in the corner. “Oh well. We’ll be reaching the Badlands Mine in a couple of hours, then we can drop this guy off with the other prisoners and we can relax.”
“I reckon that won’t be happenin’,” says the prisoner casually, having a thick country accent, making both guards jump in their spots from his sudden vocalization.
“Whoa, he can talk!” says Rookie, eyes wide and heart racing.
Sarge, after recollecting himself, tries to put on a cocky smile as he turns to the prisoner. “I ‘reckon’ that it will, Macintosh.”
Big Mac’s lips curl into a small, confident smile that makes both of the guards’ manes crawl. Then, before any of the two guards can react, he yanks out the chains holding his front hooves down. Both guards swear while shielding their faces as slivers of wood scatter around. After freeing his forehooves, Big Mac rips out the chains holding his hind legs in place. When Big Mac is freed, Sarge attempts to use his battle saddle, but it is too late for him. The monster sized stallion bull rushes him in the chest, sending him crashing through the door and skidding across the floor in the other cart, where normal prisoners are. The prisoners cheer and bang on their cells while Big Mac knocks out Rookie with a swift swat the head. Big Mac is about to run to Sarge to grab his keys, but the door opens up and two more unicorn guards rush in with their horns glowing and their battle saddles armed and ready. Big Mac darts back inside the cart he came from, barely missing getting his body pumped full of led and magical attacks.
The alarm on the train rings frantically and the lights on the train switch to red. Big Mac pushes himself away from the doorway as more bullets and magical energy whizz by, leaving an abundance of holes and scorch marks on the back wall. Big Mac waits patiently for the two guards to approach, and when they walk in, he strikes. He uses one of the chains that had been holding him down like it was a rope to wrap it around the first guard’s neck with a swift flick. As the guard tries to free himself, Big Mac swings him into the second guard. Both guards stumble to the ground, the one chained by his neck tenderly rubbing the point of impact. Then, while both guards are trying to get up, Big Mac rams them both into the damaged back wall. It comes to no surprise for Big Mac when all three go through the wall and roll end over end of each other like a ball on the railroad tracks. After coming to a stop, both guards are unconscious under his hooves and the train screeches to a stop, sending out a shower of sparks from the wheels.
Big Mac clambers to his feet, trying to ignore the wave of pain over his hooves and ribs, and limps as quickly as he can into the safety forest. He looks over his shoulder and picks up his pace when he sees searchlights from the roofs of the train sweep the area with Royal Guard pegasi taking flight. Each step sends a small twinge of pain in his hooves and side, but the pain also fuels his determination. He will not be captured again! He cannot afford to be captured!
“Hang on, AJ, I’m coming.”
And with those words, Big Mac gets a sudden burst of adrenaline that gives him the speed and the endurance needed to disappear into the dark forest.
Major Glimmer Fuller,
Progress at the Badlands Mine and Penitentiary has been met with mixed results. The temperatures are in the high 90s to low 100s on a daily basis which drains the prisoners, and our own men, of their energy in rapid succession, thus making it difficult to work. However, I do believe that while progress is slow, we are getting close to the artifact you speak of. The doctors have claimed that there is a night terror plague sweeping through those working in Ore Section A-5, and unicorns are feeling more ill in the mines than earth ponies and pegasi. They are also more prone to these night terrors than the other races. We have already ruled out respiratory illnesses and poor nutrition, and we have also conducted an extensive study and found that there is nothing of foreign nature that should prompt night terrors. Something of this magnitude can only be conducted by a magical artifact, and due to the magical residue it is emitting we must take more measures to ensure that nopony is further harmed by its effects.
Also, I spoke with Warden Frost Flower about ways to improve the conditions, and she has recommended that we divert some of our resources to retrieving clouds. I couldn’t agree with her more. I am recommending that you get Princess Celestia to approve of a massive cloud transfer from Hoffington to the Badlands, for the safety of everypony here.
A more detailed progress report and recommended list of supplies is enclosed.
-Dr. Nebulus Dust
++++++++++
Time Turner slides into a comfortable spot in the back of a new Ponyville favorite, ‘Shamrock Breeze Tavern’. The place had been built by an Appleloosan, and the structure really reflected the pride of their farming heritage. Everything was hoof carved from wood, the pictures were all country themed, and it was the only place in town that literally tossed out unruly customers into a special mud puddle in the alley. The tavern also had a simple stage where musicians would play. But right now it is being used by Applejack, who is giving praise for the hard work the protesters put out. Normally Time Turner would avoid such a place since he preferred coffee shops or his lounge, but Applejack insisted he go, and manners dictate that one cannot ignore an insist.
“Another day, another success!” cheers Applejack as she raises her mug of hard cider in the air.
The other ponies in the dirty, rustic tavern also cheer and raise their mugs. The only ones who don’t cheer are Big Mac and Time Turner; but Big Mac is still sore from his encounter with the imposter EIB agents, and the amount of bandages around his hoof and ribs proves it, and Time Turner is just a drag.
Applejack gulps down her cider and slams the empty mug on a stool she has with her. “Now, we all still have a lotta work t’ do, but if we can keep this up, then the Princess will have no choice but to return the farms t’ us.”
“Do you want me to steal all the grass seeds?” asks Caramel playfully.
“Nah, it should be me. You’d probably lose them,” remarks Lucky harshly.
Caramel groans and looks down with his ears drooped, but Applejack gently nudges Caramel to get his attention so that he doesn’t spend the rest of the night staring at the floor.
“Cheer up, Caramel. And Lucky show some respect for your fellow pony,” Applejack says, switching from comforting to stern as she walks by them. “We need to do a boycott on every farm we got till we get ‘em back.”
Time Turner hesitantly raises his hoof. “Um, excuse me, but I believe you already tried that with Sweet Apple Acres and that just led to them sending in degenerates to harvest the crop.”
The crowd falls silent and looks at him. Some seem to understand he has a good point while others are annoyed by his remark. Thankfully Applejack understands his concern.
“They sure did,” says Applejack, “and the harvest was the worst in this town’s history. The apples were fewer and it took three times longer to get ‘em. That made a lotta folks upset.”
“So you want us to stop working on the farms so Ponyville can send a message?” says Time Turner with a raised eyebrow. “That just seems careless. Especially when they bring those ruffians in our town to make up for it.”
Applejack frowns. “Well it’s better than Appleloosa or Barnville. Those guys are settin’ fire to their farms and shootin’ each other. The goal here t’ get a message across without anypony getting hurt.”
“Ponyville will be overrun with thugs and more of the Royal Guards will come in to keep an eye on them! Heck, we already have an EIB and CDA hub in our town! And I don’t know if you noticed this, but wherever they go, ponies disappear! We shouldn’t provoke the government any more than we already have! We should just keep the protesting to what we are doing now!”
The ponies crowded in the cavern stare at Time Turner. Some blink, some cough, and others just... stare. Constantly. Then a couple of ponies that known as Noteworthy and Goldengrape stand up and approach Time Turner. Next thing he knows, he is sailing through the air and lands face first with pinpoint accuracy in the special puddle of mud that Shamrock had put in the alley behind his tavern.
Time Turner coughs, sputters, and spits out the mud, then cringes when the door slams shut behind him. He stands up and feebly tries brushing off the mud and the little leaves that came with it, but he stops his brushing when a warm, green glow falls on him.
“Look how weak you have become,” says a stallion with an enigmatic voice. Time Turner looks up and becomes frozen with fear when he sees a thick, green mist in the shape of a unicorn standing in front of him. The mysterious creature offers his hoof to Time Turner. “Allow me to return you to your former glory.”
Time Turner, driven by curiosity, mindlessly extends his hoof, each inch making his fur stand more and more with a tingling sensation of power surging through him. Not only that, but he also feels a strong sense of comfort and love. It is like this thing in front of him is delivering unadulterated power and happiness, all for his taking. Time Turner grins eagerly and his eyes light up as the emotions overwhelm him. His hoof touches with the mist and-
[[[[O]]]]
He wakes up in the infirmary, wrapped up like a mummy with braces on his hooves. However, in spite of these things, he actually feels great! Tired. But great! And now he’s confused. Last he remembers is Toolbox’s hoof breaking his snout and Alto and Shoe Shine joining in on the beating. He remember his bones breaking, his skin getting shredded and bleeding to death on the ground while prisoners did nothing but shout. Then he blacked out and-
“Good afternoon, Doctor!” chirps Nebulus.
Time Turner’s scream is muffled and his jump minuscule at best; in fact, his hair would be standing if he wasn’t wrapped up. The crazy unicorn moves to Time Turner’s side and levitates a scalpel next to Time Turner’s eye. Time Turner screams and shakes in his spot as Nebulus towers over him with a demented grin. Time Turner’s eyes bulge and he screams in terror as Nebulus releases a blood thirsty roar while bringing the scalpel down. The hobby knife stabs the area next to Time Turner’s eye. Much to Time Turner’s amazement, and relief, Nebulus does not gouge out his eye, instead he skillfully cuts the bandage off and tosses the pieces away. Soon, Time Turner’s head is free, but the rest of his body remains bound.
“You crazy buffon! I oughta kick your arse to next week!” screams Time Turner furiously.
“And it worked!” cheers Nebulus, wrapping his hooves around Time Turner for a hug. “I knew it would work because I made it, but it feels so good to see that it worked in real life and not on a piece of paper!”
“What are you-” Time Turner gets a sudden eye irritation in his right eye that makes him blink madly. The irritation soon becomes painful, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut. “What did you do to me?”
“Let me guess, eye irritation. That was a symptom that I could not remove despite my best efforts. Anyhow, let’s get you out of those bandages, I’m sure the doctors wouldn’t mind.”
Time Turner blinks again, this time, however, he’s seeing an aura around Nebulus and a set of numbers. Another blink and everything is back to normal. He hears Nebulus talking and the bandages being cut apart, but he’s too busy blinking to care about what the unicorn has to say. When his hooves are freed, Time Turner clambers out of his bed and he nearly falls on his face because one of his forehooves was elected to cover his pained eye.
“Whoa, take it easy, Doctor, there might be more side effects that I am not aware of,” says Nebulus as he holds up his hoof. When doctors and guards rush in, he points at them with a surprising amount of sternness. “Everypony stay back!”
The guards and doctors stop and stare at the two as Nebulus approaches Time Turner, who is now huddled in the corner, breathing heavily and still clutching his eye.
“Let me see it,” orders Nebulus.
Time Turner gulps and when Nebulus repeats himself, he lowers his hoof and a giant grin spreads across Nebulus’ face. He then laughs joyfully and grabs Time Turner’s shoulders and pulls him in so he can get a closer look at Time Turner’s eye.
“It’s more beautiful than I imagined!” laughs Nebulus.
“Wha-what is? What are you talking about?” stammers Time Turner, mentally swearing when the numbers return above Nebulus’ head with the aura around him.
“I knew it would work, and yet nothing could prepare me for this,” whispers Nebulus, using his magic to keep Time Turner’s right eye open while crouching in front of him. Time Turner demands to be released, but they fall on deaf ears. “What do you see? You must tell me!”
“Nebulus!” barks an all too familiar voice.
Time Turner and Nebulus turn to the doorway and see Frost standing there, looking pissed. She marches in and Nebulus stands up, still smiling. Time Turner’s pupils shrink when the aura and numbers appear over everyone’s head, only this time it stays for more than a second and it appears to be going down.
“Ah, Frost, I’m glad your here. It worked!”
Frost looks at Time Turner with concern. “What’s wrong with his eye?”
“Oh that? The discoloration is merely a side effect, but its not lethal. Believe me, Major Fuller wouldn’t want me to perform such a procedure if there was a chance of a pony dying from it. Lab rats, perhaps, but not ponies.”
Frost jabs Nebulus in the chest with her hoof, wings expanded and feathers ruffled to their fullest. Nebulus takes a step back, chuckling nervously, and tries to calm the pegasus down, but his efforts are futile.
“I told you and Fuller I did not want anypony experimenting on my prisoners!” yells Frost. Then she motions towards Time Turner. “Take him to interrogation. I still need answers about what happened.”
“Oh no, that’s quite alright, I’ll just go back to my cell,” says Time Turner uneasily. The guards clamping a collar around his neck and Frost snorting out hot air towards him is enough to make him change his mind. “But then again, an interrogation room sounds comfortable.”
The guards gently lead Time Turner out of the infirmary, and the last thing he hears before the infirmary door closes is Frost chewing off Nebulus’ head with very colorful words. The guards lead Time Turner down the hallway, and he’s making sure to keep his head down so no one can see his weird eye. He has absolutely no idea what is going on, all he knows is that his right eye feels as though it is ready to pop and Nebulus seems to be enjoying whatever he did way too much. Along the way, they pass some guards escorting Alto away, and when he sees Time Turner, he glares at him.
“No snitching,” growls Alto.
“Quiet!” barks one of his guards.
Time Turner lowers his head as far as he can go, deciding to count his steps and think of other stuff instead of what Alto would do to him should he snitch. He tries to think about Derpy’s muffins, Dinky’s school art shows, and even that one time he bought a walking blender from Pinkie Pie. But those happy thoughts don’t last when he it seems as though his senses have gone on overdrive, giving him a splitting headache. The lights are brighter, the sounds are louder, and he can feel every part of his body move. He cringes and squeezes his eyes shut when all the information is making his brain feel as though it is going to explode, and right as the pain is about to make him cry it all stops as though someone flipped a switch.
Time Turner opens his eyes and sees that he’s in front of a locked door, and aura numbers are fading away from his escorts. After getting the door open, the guards lead him into a simple room with two chairs, a table, and a one-way window. The room also has a light bulb casting a warm glow around the whole room. He turns to the guards when they release him from his chains and lock him in the room, being sure to put up a shield around the door, too.
Time Turner starts pacing around the room, mumbling to himself and wondering what will happen next. Then the pain in his right eye returns along with his senses going haywire. Time Turner cringes and presses his hoof over his head as he lies on the ground in a feeble attempt to ease his pain. A few seconds of writhing later, he hobbles over to the one-way window with a hoof over his right eye and glances at his his reflection, trying to see what Nebulus saw. Aside from him sweating profusely from the pain, his eye looks okay and he looks like he hasn’t had a scratch in his life. However, when he drops his hoof he sees that his right eye is glowing green and there is an outline of ponies behind the mirror with numbers counting down. Time Turner screams and scrambles back, and when he bumps into the wall, it all evaporates along with the pain. And right on queue, the door opens and Frost steps inside with a couple of guards; one of which is levitating a bowl of water and hay.
The guards set the small meal on the table and leave without another word, leaving Frost and Time Turner alone. Time Turner stares at the food suspiciously while Frost takes a seat and waits patiently for him to make a move, but he remains still. After a couple of minutes of silence, Frost nudges the bowl of hay forward and motions him to have a seat. He reluctantly obeys.
“You have nothing to worry about, you’re not in trouble, I just need answers,” says Frost.in as kind of a tone as she can muster.
Time Turner frowns, even more skeptical of Frost now.
===
Time Turner squinted as he held his hoof up to his eyes to block the blinding light being directed to his face. Earlier he had been tossed in a room that was nearly pitch black; the only light came from the hallway that managed to seep through the door cracks. When Braeburn came in, he dragged in a large lamp, mumbling about how he should have done it earlier, and blocked off the door cracks. That’s when he turned the lamp on and nearly blinded Time Turner.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” chuckled Braeburn uneasily, “Ah’m still tryin’ to get a hang of these dang lights. Sometimes they’re on too dim, other times Ah’m nearly burnin’ out eyes. You aren’t blind are you?”
Time Turner shook his head, blinking floating colorful blobs out of his vision.
“That’s good, Ah woulda hated blindin’ somepony, especially an accidental blinding.” Braeburn chuckled, but Time Turner didn’t crack a smile, he just stared at Braeburn uneasily, making the agent’s smile fade. “Well listen, you are not in any sort of trouble. Ah just need answers.”
===
“That is what the last pony said,” says Time Turner quietly, looking down at the floor to hide the anger in his eyes.
Frost narrows her eyes.
“Well I’m not like the ‘last pony’,” she says with a sneer.
===
Braeburn paced around Time Turner while the clock expert kept his head down.
“Look, Ah know yer nervous, but ya gotta trust me when I say Ah’m not like the other guys.”
He took a seat in front of Time Turner, and Time Turner stared back at him, confused with a bit of hope.
“You’re not?” asked Time Turner, relaxing slightly.
“Of course not,” chirped Braeburn with a giant grin. “Those guys are all rough n’ tumble, beat ‘em up before we get answers kinda folks. But me? Nope. Ah see no point in bashing skulls, especially if they are folks like you, who just got caught up in the moment and made some bad choices.”
Time Turner looked down, nodding quietly.
“The good news is, is that since Ah’m not like the other guys, all ya have t’ do is tell me a few little things and Ah’ll do everything Ah can t’ make sure that you and Derpy are back home, safe n’ sound.”
Time Turner’s ears perked up with a hopeful smile. “Really?”
Braeburn nodded, keeping his beautiful smile. “Yep, Ah just need you t’ answer a couple of questions as best ya can and you’ll be free t’ go.”
===
Time Turner looks at the warden, wanting to say something snarky to her, but he keeps quiet instead, thinking that his expression will be enough to let her know of his doubt.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” says Frost, her eyes narrowing and her sneer intensifying.
“Why should I?”
“Because I’m the warden. Now you better start talking or we’re going to have some serious problems.”
The tone in her voice was enough to terrify even the toughest of soldiers and the hardest of criminals. Time Turner’s eyes widen as he stammers like an idiot, trying to think of the right thing to say. His stammering comes to an abrupt end when his stomach lets out a loud rumble, making him freeze and slowly look down at his stomach. Frost smirks, slides out of her seat and pushes the bowl of hay closer to him before patting his shoulder.
“Why don’t you have something to eat before you tell me what happened.” Frost walks to the door, and right as she’s about to leave, she turns to look at Time Turner. “You have five minutes.”
As soon as she leaves, Time Turner digs in, forgetting all of his manners.
~~~~~~~~~~
It doesn’t take Time Turner long to finish his little meal, and when he did, he told Frost everything that happened. From him being hoof-picked by Toolbox for his gang for unknown reasons, to him being briefly told about the rivalry with Nimbus and then the events leading up to his hospitalization. After explaining everything to the best of his abilities he hoped that Frost would let him go, given that her stare is one of the creepiest he’s ever seen; despite her saying that it was her “soft face” he still had a hard time believing her. After hours of questions and prodding, Time Turner was dismissed and escorted to his cell without any trouble from the prisoners or guards. When he was back in his cell, the prisoners were already in their cells, some snoring, others laying with their eyes open, and a couple pacing around that quickly dove under the covers when the guards ordered them to bed. Time Turner never thought he would enjoy the itchy hay cot or the grungy blanket when he was put back in his cell, and he also never thought he would fall asleep as fast as he did.
[[[[O]]]]
Time Turner, as a teenager, stares at a clock, watching the seconds tick by painfully slow and doing everything in his willpower to not look at the older unicorn in front of him. The mare in front of him is old, smells like fake flowers, and looks as though she’s miserable just being alive.
“You did tell your parents about today, didn’t you?” says the old mare in a venomous tone.
Time Turner glares at her for a couple of seconds before looking down at the floor. Another minute of hostile silence ticks by before the door opens up and two earth pony stallions walk in. The first has Time Turner’s color scheme inverted and has a watch as a cutie mark, and the second has a salmon colored coat with a blue mane and tail and a needle and thread as his cutie mark. They both take seats on either side of him, and when Time Turner glares at the salmon colored pony, the one with his color scheme glares at him, prompting Time Turner to gaze at the floor again.
“Mr. Whooves, I’m glad you could make it,” says the mare with forced enthusiasm.
The pony similar to Time Turner nods. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. What is it that my son has been doing, exactly, Principal Scroll?”
“Your son has written some concerning papers in his classes for the past few months,” states Principal Scroll. She looks at the salmon colored pony. “Most notably, a paper regarding the homosexual community.”
The salmon pony gasps and covers his mouth with his hoof, then he looks at Time Turner.
“Time Turner, what have you been saying?” he says, his voice being way too feminine for that of a stallion.
“I don’t have to answer to you, Thread,” grumbles Time Turner with a sneer, putting a lot of spite in his tone when saying “Thread”.
Mr. Whooves whips the back of Time Turner’s head with his hoof, making him wince and tenderly rub the point of impact.
“Don’t talk to your father like that!” barks Mr. Whooves.
“He’s not my father!”
That seems to have struck a nerve with Thread, as he looks down whimpering with his eyes tearing up. Mr. Whooves scolds Time Turner for saying that, but he waves it off like an annoying bug. Principal Scroll clears her throat, and when all the stallions look at her, she adjusts her glasses with her magic and levitates a folder that has the school seal on it and filled with papers for them to see. Time Turner folds his hooves across his chest and looks away as his parents stare at it intently.
“At the Academy we try to keep an open mind on one’s opinions, but Time Turner’s... interesting view on the world is a cause for concern. Time Turner, if you will please step out into the hall, this is the private part of the discussion between faculty and parents.”
Time Turner doesn’t hesitate to leave the room and blocks out the muffled words when his guardians and Principal Scroll begin their discussion. He paces around the polished hallway, counting the seconds it takes for him to do a full pace just for the sake of killing time. After a few minutes of pacing, he comes to a stop at a large poster of Celestia covering a crowd of ponies of all shapes and sizes with outstretched wings. All the ponies look very happy being under her, and beneath them is a bolded quote, stating: Tolerance Paves Progress.
Time Turner turns away from the picture, sick to his stomach and grumbling about how unnaturally fluffy it is.
“Sickening, isn’t it?” says a stallion with a familiar, enigmatic voice. “She has poisoned the minds of countless generations, and you were smart enough to see the folly of her ways.”
Time Turner turns around and sees the same green apparition of a unicorn in front of him. He cocks his head and cautiously steps forward as the strange figure extends his hoof.
“And because of that, they forced you to change. But I can save you from their poison.”
Suddenly a giant box with a smiling muffin on it breaks apart the ghostly figure and smacks Time Turner in the face. Time Turner falls on his back, rubbing his nose and swearing over a stream of frantic apologies. He hears more boxes fall and hectic wing flaps to accompany the apologies, then he feels a pair of hooves help him up. He bats the hooves away, shakes off the disorientation, and is about to chew out the pony that rammed him with a box of muffins. However, upon seeing the pegasus, his brain loses all sense of word punctuation when he sees that there are some things wrong with her. It’s not that she was ugly, no, she was actually mildly attractive, seeing as her gray coat and blonde mane fit perfectly, but her golden eyes are not aligned and there is a bruise around one of them. It looks as though she tried to hide it by brushing her mane over it and covering it with some makeup. Time Turner can’t help but wonder if someone had slapped her eyes out of alignment.
“Bloody hay, what is wrong with your eyes?” wonders Time Turner outloud, his ears immediately folding back and his hoof going over his mouth.
The mare looks down, sniffling and hurriedly sweeps the muffins back to her boxes; thankfully the muffins were wrapped up good and tight. Time Turner looks around at the minefield of muffins and counts at least half a dozen flavors, however, his heart is twisted into a knot when he hears the mare sniffling. He looks at her and sees her body trembling and eyes glazed, and upon seeing that he feels like a complete and total jerk for his reaction. He runs his hoof through his mane and tries to figure out a way to apologize. After a full pace around a circle and mental gymnastics, he comes up with only one thing.
“Look, I’m sorry, I-”
“You don’t have to apologize,” sniffles the pegasus while sweeping a few muffins in their box, “I’m used to it.”
“It doesn’t look like it to me.” Time Turner points at her eye. “What happened to your eye, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She sweeps up the muffins faster. “I fell.”
“On what? A doorknob?”
She nods her head rapidly and barely makes a sound as she puts more muffins back in the box.
Time Turner silently watches her sweep up the muffins, very doubtful of her fell-on-on-a-doorknob claim. He does try to help her with the muffins, though, but when his hoof brushes against hers, she gasps and jerks away. Her sudden movement not only surprises Time Turner, but also makes him worry even more about her.
“We’redonethankyouforthehelpmister,” she says in a single breath, leaving Time Turner more dumbfounded.
“Derpy, let’s go!” barks a chubby, greasy unicorn stallion with a golden coat and a rusty, messy mane and tail in a Manehatten accent. He is also carrying a box of muffins and standing at the end of the hallway, tapping his hoof impatiently.
The severity of his voice and stare makes Derpy cringe and gallop down the hall while apologizing, but her apologies are cut off with a vicious “Zip it!”
Derpy falls silent and slows to a trot, and Time Turner glares at the older stallion, nostrils flaring and having a strong desire to say something. But alas, all he does is stare and the stallion doesn’t even notice him. When Derpy and the jerk are out of sight, the door to the principal's office opens and Time Turner’s guardians walk out. Thread looks as though he is barely holding it together while Mr. Whooves’ jaw is clenched and his face is red with a throbbing vein. Time Turner only gives them a second’s glance before looking back down the hall where Derpy went; he’s worried sick about her now and wants to gallop after her just to make sure nothing happens to her, but when he attempts to leave, his biological father steps in front of him.
“We’re going to have a long talk tonight,” growls Mr. Whooves.
[[[[O]]]]
“RISE AND SHINE, COLTS!” bellows a guard as the windows slide open to reveal the morning sun.
Time Turner pokes his head out from under the worn blanket, feeling like his back is knotted into an irredeemable mess. But nonetheless he still climbs out of his bed, puts on his work uniform and follows the miserable crowd to the cafeteria. He gets his meal and eats in silence, no Toolbox or Alto to bug him, only the hostile stares from Toolbox’s little army are ruining his breakfast. He tries to ignore them, but the stares are making his mane crawl and it doesn’t help that his eye is shifting colors, causing some more heads to turn. He also swears that his eye is specifically locking on to the ones with the more murderous glares, but one group in particular catches his eye. Time Turner’s ears perk up and his eyes lock on to a group of six stallions approaching him, all of which look as though they are tempted to murder him on the spot. All of the stallions have numbers on their heads, too, and they are considerably smaller than the rest in the room. And just like what the strange numbers and aura have been doing to him since he woke up in the infirmary, they just disappear.
“You’re dead, freak,” sneers one of the passing stallions; he has an orange coat with a black mane and a cropped tail with a wine glass as a cutie mark.
Time Turner’s pupils shrink and his ears droop upon hearing the threat, and the stallions snicker and continue their walk. When the stallions are a good distance away, Time Turner looks back at his breakfast, he’s no longer feeling hungry but he still nibbles on it just so he can have something to do. Plus, with the threat made, he’s certain it will be his last meal. So he eats in silence, flinching at every pony that passes by or looks at him, and right as the clock strikes ten the intercom buzzes to life and orders every prisoner to the Penitentiary Square.
The Royal Guards usher the crowd to a large, open field in the middle of the prison complex where Frost is standing, surrounded by a circle of unicorn Royal Guard; Nebulus is also next to her, but his normal smile is gone and he has a hard time keeping his head up. She is standing on top of a platform with a microphone in front of her, and she is watching the crowd file in intently and appears to be the only one who isn’t sweating from the heat. Time Turner also sees small flares emanating from the horns of the unicorns, so he’s guessing that Frost is surrounded by a shield.
Time Turner looks up when he feels the shadow of the prowling zeppelin glide above him, and when he looks up, he notices that the ship has barrels protruding from it. He also realizes that the pegasi Royal Guards have taken the high ground and the earth ponies have surrounded the prisoners. The guards silently watch crowd as they talk or shout at each other, and when the microphone screeches, the prisoners swear and hurl insults at the warden and her guards. But after she orders them to shut up, they comply within a few seconds with barely any resistance. It takes Frost a couple of seconds to get going with what she wanted to say, since she was scanning the crowd of prisoners for any signs of trouble. Anyone with working ears would know that something has really ticked her off. As each second passes, Time Turner becomes more unnerved by her stone cold glare, her ruffled feathers, and the fact that she managed to silence a whole prison with a simple phrase.
Everyone hears her snort as she does a final scan; then she speaks with tone of an angry general.
“I am going to keep this short and to the point!” exclaims Frost into her microphone. “We are not animals, we are ponies! But if you want to act like animals, we will treat you like animals!”
Frost nods to Nebulus, and he pushes a lever that makes the ground split open next to them, just barely outside the shield bubble. Unicorn guards walk out from the hidden tunnel, and when they do, the crowd gets a mixed response of gasps and quiet murmurs. The guards are dragging out Toolbox, Shoe Shine, and Alto, all three of which are chained together with enormous yokes on them.
“Animals sleep outside!”
The guards bang large, steel stakes into the ground through the loops of each of the prisoner’s chains. Time Turner winces with each clang and the prisoners start shouting vulgar protests; they are only being kept at bay when the Royal Guards tense up and aim their weapons at the crowd.
“Animals are fed when nature decides to feed them!”
The guards set down a tray of feed and bucket of water in front of each prisoner. Time Turner tries to shrink away so he doesn’t watch the scene, and to stay away from Toolbox’s wandering eyes, but as he walks back, he bumps into another pony. He looks behind him to see who he had bumped into, and the whole world becomes nonexistent as fear overtakes him. He had just bumped into Cumulus and the pegasus looks very pleased to see his prey had come into him.
“And above all else, animals do not choose their fates!”
With those final words, Frost glares at the three and Toolbox returns the glare, adding in a snarl and scuffing the ground with his hoof. Time Turner, meanwhile, tries to escape into the crowd but is blocked off by three more pegasi.
“Anypony who thinks these stakes will hold me back is sadly mistaken!” proclaims Toolbox. “When I get out, there will be Tartarus to pay!”
Time Turner cringes and fights to keep his eyes open as he looks back at Toolbox after he finishes his threat. The thunderous cheers and applause bring immense pain to Time Turner’s brain, it is as though his brain is inflating and ready to explode. Soon the pain becomes too much, and he collapses to the ground with all the noise being muffled and aura and numbers around everyone. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his hooves against his head, biting back tears and trembling, feeling all of his senses going overboard again. He then feels a sharp tug on his mane and he’s pulled to his feet, opening his eyes in the process. After Time Turner opens his eyes he sees Cumuls standing in front of him and feels one his goons spit his mane out, using very colorful vocabulary about the awful taste of “prison hair”.
Time Turner looks past Cumulus and sees that Toolbox has a confident and very vicious smile whereas Frost is holding her ground; and his numbers are considerably larger than hers. When the numbers disappear, Time Turner’s pain fades and the Frost dismisses the crowd. Cumulus then orders the pegasi to flank Time Turner and they escort him out of the crowd with Cumulus leading the way.
A couple of minutes later, Time Turner is brought to a worn gazebo where more pegasi are. Most are relaxing in the shade, while a couple are talking quietly amongst themselves, but all of them leave a clear opening for one to sit comfortably. Nimbus.
The pegasus is old, most likely in his fifties, and is almost exactly as he had been described. Only, he’s not ugly; the years have not been kind to him, but he doesn’t look like a hideous monster, only a pony whose been hardened by prison life. However, he does not look all that bad. He looks calm with the book he’s quietly reading, and barely moves when Cumulus clears his throat.
“Father, the one you wanted to see is here,” says Cumulus.
Nimbus stops reading and looks up with tired eyes as Time Turner is shoved forward. The older pegasus closes his book without saying a word and stands up tall and proud. Time Turner shakes to the point where his legs almost give out as the older pegasus approaches him, and when the two ponies are face to face, it dawns on Time Turner that Nimbus is smaller than him by almost a head. But that doesn’t change the fact that Nimbus’ quiet stare is sending shivers up Time Turner’s spine.
“Is this not him?” asks Cumulus with worry.
“It is him,” says Nimbus, his voice stern and simple. Then to Time Turner: “Tell me, Doctor, do you believe that should a master disrespect their servant, their servant has a right to seek a new master?”
“I... I um don’t think anypony should be a slave to anypony. But such is the way of the Badlands, right?”
Time Turner chuckles nervously, eyes shifting between the pegasi flanking him before looking back at Nimbus; the older pegasus doesn’t appear to be amused, though.
“I didn’t say ‘slave’, I said ‘servant’.” Time Turner drops his head shamefully, as Nimbus closes his book and gently pushes it to the side. “Celestia said that, should a master not respect their servant, the servant may break their bonds to find one that does offer respect. Does Toolbox respect you?”
Time Turner is silent, not sure if he’s been asked a trick question or if Nimbus is being serious. Time Turner knows that Toolbox doesn’t like him for obvious reasons, but he’s also not entirely sure if he likes what Nimbus is suggesting, given that it’ll bring him more pain and possibly death.
“Are you- are you suggesting that I leave Toolbox to work for you? Because I don’t think it works that way. In fact I’m probably in a lot of trouble just being here so I’m going to go.”
Time Turner turns to leave, but the pegasi block him and take slow, heavy steps towards him, forcing him towards Nimbus. Time Turner turns around and sees Nimbus has a huge number floating above his head, but they fade away in a matter of seconds.
“You are afraid of Toolbox, and rightfully so,” says Nimbus. “He nearly killed you after your cowardly actions made him a laughing stock, and he will continue to have his way with you until you make the right choice.”
“Which is?”
“Killing him.”
Time Turner’s ears droop and he quietly repeats Nimbus to clarify; the pegasus clarifies with a subtle nod. Time Turner then chuckles uneasily and looks at the pegasi around him; none of them are smiling.
“We-we’re all just a bunch of good chaps, here, right?” says Time Turner with a nervous chuckle. “Nopony has to get killed. Why not just talk about the problem over some rations?”
All the pegasi look at each other, except for Cumulus and Nimbus. Cumulus facehoofs and Nimbus stares at Time Turner, once again unamused by his choice of words.
“Do you think you are a good pony?” asks Nimbus.
Time Turner struggles to find a proper way to say “Yes”, but Nimbus isn’t too patient with the earth pony’s blubbering.
“You must think so, since only ponies who believe they are good believe rivalries can be settled easily. Unfortunately that is not the case. Rivalries cannot be solved over rations, especially the one between me and Toolbox.”
Nimbus paces around Time Turner, inspecting every inch he could closely, all while. Time Turner stares at Nimbus nervously. Time Turner looks down, gulping, when Nimbus stops in front of him. The old pegasus silently watches Time Turner for a few more seconds before continuing his speech.
“Toolbox played a hoof in my son’s death, and now my daughter is missing. He must be killed so my son can rest in peace. I would do it myself, but I cannot get near him. My only hope for justice is to send somepony like you to kill him in my steed.”
Time Turner’s shoot open and his ears perk up along with his head, horrified by the sincerity in Nimbus’ tone.
“But I-I can’t kill him! I shouldn’t even be here!” cries Time Turner. He looks at each of the pegasi as they snicker. “I did nothing wrong, and me killing somepony will ruin my chances of getting out of here!”
Time Turner takes a few steps back, but comes to a stop when he runs into Cumulus again. Time Turner looks back at Nimbus, ears drooping and body shaking as the pegasus stares at him. Nimbus looks at where his wings are cuffed, then back at Time Turner sympathetically.
“I understand your fear. Loss of freedom is terrible, and yet the choices you made have led to you forfeiting it, just as my choices have done to me,” says Nimbus as he inches closer to Time Turner, having to look up to meet his eyes. “But ask yourself this: Do you want to kill Toolbox and live, or do you want to die and let your tormentor enjoy another meal?”
“What are you...” Then it dawns on him and his eyes widen while his jaw drops. “Him or me?”
Nimbus nods and when Time Turner slumps to the ground he walks back to his spot in the gazebo. He makes himself comfortable before glancing at Time Turner, who has a hard time holding his gaze.
“If you do this, I will spare your life and have my pegasi protect you, and you will be doing everypony here a favor,” claims Nimbus. “My son will be avenged, you will be saved, and nopony will live in fear of Toolbox. But deny my mission and I will kill you on the spot and find somepony else to take your place. The choice is simple, but yours to make, and its yours to make right now.”
Time Turner bites his lip, looking at the pegasi around him. All of them are waiting to pounce, especially Cumulus. Time Turner is certain the only reason he wasn’t pummeled to death after Frost’s speech is because of Nimbus, but now he knows why. He doesn’t want to kill anyone, but he also doesn’t want to die, especially in a prison. Time Turner looks back at Nimbus, who is patiently tapping his hoof on the floor, waiting for a response. Time Turner gulps and then reluctantly nods his head, quietly saying he accepts Nimbus’ mission. The old pegasus nods and waves his hoof to signal his guards to take Time Turner away.
Cumulus orders the same three pegasi he was with earlier to flank Time Turner while he takes the lead, and they begin their short trek back to the earth pony’s prison enclave. As they walk in silence, Time Turner bows his head and closes his eyes, whispering: “Celestia forgive me.”
~~~~~~~~~~
A few days have passed since Time Turner’s unwanted visit with Nimbus; or, in a more accurate sense, two days, fourteen hours and five minutes and counting.
Time Turner groans as he looks at the clock in the cafeteria from his spot in the back; everytime he sees it, he can only think of how long he has been in the Badlands, and even then his counting is skewed due to his time in the hospital. He doesn’t necessarily hate his uncanny ability to time things, but he also sometimes wishes he could’ve gotten a cooler cutie mark, like a guitar or something sporty so he has something besides the obvious in common with the prisoners. This is one of those times.
Time Turner looks at his tray of hay sandwiches, apple slices and jug of water, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his eye. Every time the pain came, the numbers and aura showed up and they are equally annoying and terrifying. Time Turner pokes at his apple slice, watching it sway back and forth, and glances around the cafeteria. Nothing has changed; the unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies all sit in their own enclaves, chatting and laughing with each other like the old seaside raiders he read about. Inside each of the groups were the gangs, which all sat in their own clumps and surrounded their leader like he was the son of Celestia. With Toolbox and his lieutenants being stuck outside, however, his gang looks like a big ball of blah trying to look tough. While the locked up stallions are divided by race and gang, they all share a common passion of hurling insults at the guards and trying to woo the mares that have the misfortune of working the kitchen.
Time Turner is snapped out of his trance when the pain in his eye intensifies, and he’s guessing the cause is the same group of six ponies that threatened him a couple of days ago. The pony with the wine glass cutie mark takes a seat in front of Time Turner, holding a heartless glare, and Time Turner tries to play tough by coolly taking a bite out of his awful sandwich.
“Word is that you and Nimbus had a conversation about some stuff,” says Wine Glass. Time Turner remains silent as he finishes his sandwich, making the others snicker at his futile attempt to play tough. “So, you are not only a snitch, but you are working with the pegasi, too. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you on the spot.”
Time Turner silently points to the guards around the room before taking a bite out of his second sandwich. He also notices Cumulus staring at him and motioning his pegasi to get ready. Wine Glass doesn’t notice Cumulus’ actions, though, since he’s too busy looking at the guards. The guards don’t appear to notice, but Time Turner and Wine Glass know that they are on a constant hair trigger.
“Mark my words, you will die today, Snitch.” growls Wine Glass.
Wine Glass then looks over his shoulder at Cumulus and they have a brief glaring contest before the earth pony orders his stallions to leave. Once the gang leaves Time Turner resumes his meal in silence, shaking and more fearful now than ever.
~~~~~~~~~~
A couple of hours later, he finds himself back in the mines, scraping off chunks of rock and delivering them to the stallions dragging the carts. He hasn’t seen Wine Glass or his ponies anywhere, but he has seen the stares and heard the whispers. Occasionally one or two ponies would trot up and ask him to change his eye color for them. Sometimes it worked, other times it didn’t, and when it worked he got jokes and praise for the pain his curse gives him. This goes on for a few hours before the bells ding to notify the miners that they are allowed to take a rest.
Time Turner follows the shuffling crowd out of the mine; like just about everyone else, he is dragging his hooves on the ground, not caring that his clawed boots are leaving scratches in the ground. When he steps outside, he is momentarily blinded by the sun but welcomes the heat with opens hooves and ignores the pegasi guards on their perches. Time Turner sits on the ground and watches heavily armored mini-train with an earth pony Royal Guard mounting a Gatling gun screech to a stop in front of the tired and dirty crowd of workers. The prisoners crowd around it and shout over each other as the guards hand out water and large apples, and Time Turner is about to get his share of apples when Cumulus steps in front of him.
“We need to talk,” says Cumulus as he nudges Time Turner towards the cave.
“Can’t we talk after break?” asks Time Turner with a slightly unexpected whine.
“No.”
“But what-”
“Wine Glass and his group doesn’t work this part of the mine. We’ll be fine for now. Now get in the mine!”
Cumulus pushes Time Turner into the mine while ordering two of his pegasi to keep watch. Once they are deep within the mine, Cumulus orders Time Turner to stop and he obeys with a small sigh and turns around to look at the pegasus.
“Cumulus, I really don’t think we should be meeting.”
“It has been three days since we gave you your mission-”
“Blackmailed is more like it,” mutters Time Turner under his breath.
“What!” Time Turner shrinks back as Cumulus steps hoof to hoof with him. “You want to repeat that?”
“You-you blackmailed me,” stammers Time Turner. “Kill him or be killed.”
Cumulus snorts and takes a couple of steps back. “What did you expect us to do? You were working with the pony that killed my brother.”
“But how do you know that Toolbox killed your brother? I mean he was here wasn’t he?”
Cumulus chuckles irritably and shakes his head as he paces in front of Time Turner.
“You naive dirt stomper, just because somepony is locked up doesn’t mean that they can’t get their messages out. My father is still able to run his business from here, or was until Toolbox had Sunshine killed. And now with you in play we can avenge him and destroy Toolbox’s little empire. All you have to do is play your part and kill him.”
“Oh is that all!” snaps Time Turner. “You know, maybe you should told me how you wanted him killed! Or better yet, why didn’t you just wait until he was out of solitary or whatever the hay they have him stuck in before you decided to force somepony to kill him!”
“Do not use that tone with me,” snarls Cumulus. “You work for us now, so when we say to kill Toolbox, you are going to kill Toolbox. He’s right there, you can-”
Cumulus’ ear twitches, as well as Time Turner’s, when multiple heavy hoofsteps approach them from seemingly out of the blue. Cumulus steps away from Time Turner, growling, and the earth pony steps back with ears drooping when he sees Wine Glass standing in the way of their exit being flanked by five ponies; all of their claws are shimmering and their outfits are covered with blood splatter.
“Well, well, well, it looks as though the rumors were true after all,” says Wine Glass, his voice getting a terrifying edge when they echo off the walls.
Cumulus stares at the blood, eyes narrowed and teeth gritting, while Time Turner gulps and takes a couple of shaky steps back, now sweating profusely.
“You killed my stallions,” growls Cumuls, tightening up his body like a feline predator ready to pounce.
“Give us the snitch and we’ll let you walk out of here alive.”
“No you won’t. Besides, he’s with us now.”
Time Turner’s jaw drops and he frantically denies Cumuls’ word as he steps in between the two and holds up his hoof, looking at Cumulus. The pain in his eye and the numbers also return, and a good amount of them are very low.
“Now hold on a moment,” he says anxiously, cringing due to the pain, “I didn’t agree to anything. I was blackmailed,” he looks at Wine Glass, “something this rumor apparently left out.”
“It might have said something about that, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you snitched out on Toolbox, Alto, and Shoe Shine. Even if you truly are being blackmailed, I’m still going to kill you because you are a snitch and a traitor,” says Wine Glass.
Wine Glass motions his stallions forward and they surround the two ponies. Cumulus snarls and viciously punches the first stallion in the throat, shattering his voice box. Time Turner swears and backpedals as Cumulus’ victim falls to the ground gagging, coughing out blood, and clutching his throat, but that is all brought to an end when Cumulus stomps on his face. There is a sickening crunch and the stallion beneath Cumulus jerks before becoming limp. Right after that kill, the others charge Cumulus and Time Turner gallops forward to stop them, but he is bucked in the side by Wine Glass. The force of the buck sends Time Turner off of his hooves and he slides into the rock wall, grunting upon impact. His ears ring and he feels a warm trickle run down down the back of his head and a sharp pain in his side as he tries to stand up.
Time Turner’s breathing is now raspy and labored as he attempts to stop Wine Glass again; but once again he is knocked down, and this time Wine Glass presses his clawed boot down on Time Turner’s neck. He doesn’t put a lot of pressure on, but just enough to draw blood, and Time Turner looks to his side and sees Cumulus lying on the ground, covered in gashes and soaked in blood and being guarded by two other stallions. Wine Glass smirks and pulls away from Time Turner, ordering his stallions to keep an eye on him, and Time Turner stands up, his legs feeling like jelly and his eye feeling as though it is about to pop.
“Please, don’t do this,” begs Time Turner in a terrified whimper when Wine Glass stands above Cumulus.
“You know, I was once a respectable wine seller. I had a shop, a great business deal with the Rich Clan, and a beautiful little girl,” says Wine Glass, completely ignoring Time Turner and the gurgles and gasping from Cumulus. “Then one day Mr. Rich and his daughter, Diamond, came by and I had the misfortune of saying the Royal Government has gone too far. Next day, some hick with a badge dropped by, said he just wanted to talk, and now here I am as Toolbox’s executioner.”
Time Turner swears and tries to scramble away when Wine Glass stomps on Cumuls’ head, but he is held in place by the two stallions guarding him. Time Turner winces as the claws dig into his shoulder, and his whimpers are overshadowed by Wine Glass barking orders. When Time Turner sees the gushing injuries on Cumuls’ head through glazed eyes he covers his mouth in a feeble attempt to keep himself from vomiting.
“Snitches like you ruin lives,” growls Wine Glass as he towers above Time Turner. “And when I kill you, as I have killed your featherbrained friend, everypony will know that you do not cross Toolbox. Lay him on the ground!”
Time Turner screams and swears as he’s tossed on the ground, and when his body is pressed against the mine floor his heart feels as though it is about to pop out of his chest. Time Turner thrashes on the ground, screaming for help and begging Wine Glass not to kill him, but his pleas are met with only a cold stare. The thrashing stomps when he’s lying flat on his back, looking straight up at the dark ceiling. Then Wine Glass steps into view and positions his hoof just above Time Turner’s face, the fresh blood from his claws drip down on Time Turner’s face, which are now soaked in tears.
“Please, I have a family,” whimpers Time Turner.
“Tough shit.”
Time Turner’s eyes widen and everything seems to slow down and become quiet as Wine Glass brings his hoof down, with the only noise being a low whisper with a frightening echo.
“Ektós apó sas gia ména.”
Time Turner, with a new burst of strength, suddenly pushes one of his captors off and rolls out of the way of Wine Glass’s stomp. He scrambles to his feet and slashes the nearest pony across the face, sending him falling to the ground, flailing his hooves and screaming in pain. Time Turner is then tackled into the rock wall by two other ponies, one of which is Wine Glass, and the wall was a lot thinner than they thought. The three go through the wall and tumble down the slope; Time Turner tries grabbing the slope with his clawed boots, but the claws only make matters worse given that they rip chunks of rock loose. The other two have just about as much luck as him.
All three scream and claw at the slope, and if Time Turner wasn’t preoccupied with trying to stay alive he would probably be counting how long they have been sliding. But due to the circumstances he can only come up with a rough estimate of about twenty seconds before they land in the middle of a cave. The three land with a grunt and groan as they straighten themselves up.
Time Turner mumbles incoherently as he struggles to stand up, but when a set of claws slash his face, he collapses to the ground, screaming in agony and kicking his legs wildly. He can hear Wine Glass barking an order, and he whimpers and tries to stop the bleeding by pressing his foreleg against the injury. He can feel his suit getting slippery with the blood and tries to scramble away from the executioners.
“What’s the matter, Snitch, afraid of death?” sneers Wine Glass.
Wine Glass bucks Time Turner in the side, sending him skidding across the ground and hitting the rockwall. He coughs out blood and gasps for air while struggling to stand up; his eyes water as his skin burns from the dirt and blood mixing, and at the prospect of him getting cut to ribbons by the two psychos.
“You are pathetic; killing you will do this world a favor,” says Wine Glass grimly.
Time Turner looks at Wine Glass, eyes wide and whimpering. His eyes also gets an intense surge of pain as everything slows down again, and his ears get a ringing noise that mix with his thundering heartbeats.
“Skotoste tous.”
Time Turner’s green eye glows like a miniature green star and he screams furiously as Wine Glass brings his hoof up to finish off Time Turner. Time Turner stabs his boot into Wine Glass’s leg, and the earth pony screams in pain and collapses to the ground as Time Turner yanks the claws out sideways. His attacker whimpers and presses his torn open hoof against his chest, his outfit and ground being soaked in blood. As he attempts to crawl away, the second stallion charges and Time Turner digs his claws into the side of his head. The unlucky pony barely has time to let out an agonizing scream before his face is slammed against the corner piece of a blocky piece of rock. The stallion slides to the ground, his face caved in between the eyes and the rock drenched in blood.
Time Turner turns around to face Wine Glass when he hears him whimpering and trying to crawl away, not realizing that the numbers above are almost gone. All Time Turner sees is a pony that tried to kill him for something he had no control over. He doesn’t care that Wine Glass is crippled and begging for mercy. He doesn’t care that Wine Glass has a daughter. The way Time Turner sees it, Wine Glass didn’t care that he had a family, so why should he care that his attempted killer has a daughter? Besides, this is self defense.
Five.
Time Turner corners Wine Glass, and the crippled pony holds up his good hoof, sobbing and shaking from blood loss.
Four.
“Pl-Please, I-I have a daughter,” whimpers Wine Glass weakly.
Three.
Time Turner’s eyes narrow and his green eye glows brighter as he aims his hoof at Wine Glass.
Two.
“Please...”
One.
Time Turner impales Wine Glass’s throat, nearly slicing his head, off with a single punch and the neck getting stuck on the blades with blood splattering on the wall. Then it all ends. Time Turner’s eyes widen and his green eye fades away as he stares at the lifeless eyes and the flowing blood. He rips his hoof out of the stallion’s neck and stumbles back, hyperventilating and wanting to puke when his victim’s blood pours all over the ground.
“What have I done?” whimpers Time Turner, still shaking and stumbling back as he brings his hoof to his mouth.
“What you had to do,” echoes a charismatic stallion.
Time Turner’s ears perk up and his eyes dart around the room, searching for the source, but he doesn’t see anyone anywhere. That is until an eerie green mist slides out from under body of the pony with the caved in skull. Time Turner steps back as it slides across the ground, and when it is a good few paces in front of him, it stops and rises up and molds itself into a wispy silhouette of a stallion. A big stallion that is protruding a horn... and wings.
Time Turner’s jaw drops and points at the figure, trying to blink the blood out of his eyes and comprehend what he is seeing. The crazy silhouette is not only an exact replica of the thing in his dreams, but it sounds the same, its posture is the same, and he’s feeling the same surge of power he felt in his dreams.
Time Turner shakes his head, blinking madly and trying to tell himself that he is hallucinating.
“I can assure you that I am very real,” says the projection coolly.
“It-it has to be blood loss or-or bad food or something! There is no way this is happening. You can’t be real!” stammers Time Turner frantically.
The projection steps forward and extends his hoof, making Time Turner back up and fall on his haunches. He quickly gets back to his feet, wincing and biting back his tears with minimal success as the throbbing and burning pains mix in an unholy combination. The strange mist dissolves into a blob and moves across the floor, reemerging as the alicorn in front of Time Turner with his hoof out again. Time Turner backs up into a wall, his eyes widened from terror and his heart racing and breathing sporadic.
He aims his blood soaked boot at the thing, trying to look threatening by narrowing his eyes and gritting his teeth. However, in his injured state, he is no more of a threat than a foal with a pair of scissors.
“Stay back! I’m warning you!” yells Time Turner in a shaky voice. “I-I just killed two ponies today!”
The alicorn’s hoof touches Time Turner’s forehead and his eyes dilate as his world disappears in a flash.
O----O----O
Time Turner blinks, or tries to blink when he finds himself standing in a large, brightly lit throne room. The tiles are polished so well that one can see their reflection perfectly, and each tile has an intricate design of vines that are colored with the most painstaking of care; each vine connects the tiles by golden orbs at the corners and they look like they are floating on the tile. The pillars are also magnificent to say the least, as they are all pure white with gold trim and gems lining up the sides of it. There are also decorative stained glass with images of stories from every age. and even the domed ceiling has murals all over it depicting the creation of Equus.
As much as Time Turner wants to enjoy the scenery, he can’t because he feels his throat is drier than a desert and his heart is racing. Plus, his eyes keep moving all over the place, looking at more alicorns donning a variety of armor, from bulky and natural colored, to elaborately colored light armor; he even spots an alicorn wearing dark blue armor that reminds him of an aqua soldier from the mythology he read in school.
‘Okay, what is going on?’ wonders Time Turner.
“Prince Sirius, do you not deny the allegations brought against you?” says a stallion in an authoritative tone.
The speaker’s voice echoes off of the wall and Time Turner’s head snaps towards a stallion unicorn with a dark coat and no features. The stallion has no face, no visible markings, no nothing! It is like he is just a solid blob of darkness shaped as a unicorn.
‘What the hell!’ cries Time Turner.
Well, that is what Time Turner wanted to say, but what comes out instead is the voice of the mysterious mist from his dreams, and instead of sounding charismatic, he sounds saddened, barely speaking in a whisper.
“I do not, Minister Custos,” says Time Turner’s host, Sirius, as he looks down. He takes a breath and looks up at a pair of thrones behind Custos, but the figures sitting on them are hidden behind a shield that turns them into silhouettes. “But know that while my actions were terrible, I only did so to protect Equus. Is it not the job of the ruler to protect those that fall under their flag?”
“You could’ve found another way. What you did was unacceptable!” says a mare furiously.
Sirius looks to his side and Time Turner is surprised to see Princess Celestia and Luna standing there in elegant dresses; Celestia has a white dress with gold trim and a golden sun necklace. Luna has a midnight blue dress with silver trim and a full moon necklace. Although the sisters don’t have their unique manes, they are still very much recognizable. Celestia’s mane is all pink and has one of her angry eyes covered, while Luna has her blue mane flowing behind her and is hiding behind Celestia, eyes stricken with worry.
“Celestia, you know me!” cries Sirius, his tone being mixed with anger and desperation. “You know my intentions were for the best of Equus!”
Time Turner feels Sirius’s eyes widen with shock and betrayal as Celestia steps back, shaking her head and looking away. Then a choking lump builds up in his throat and tears roll down his cheeks when she says one simple sentence while stepping away: “You are not my brother. You are a monster.”
Sirius’s lips quiver and his vision gets foggy with tears as he takes a couple of steps forward, now focusing on Luna.
“Luna, you know me. You know I am a good pony,” says Sirius, desperation overtaking anger.
Luna steps forward and for a moment Sirius feels closure as he extends his hoof for a hug, but it is all yanked away when Celestia gets in the way and gently nudges her back while glaring at him.
“Not another one of your poisonous words to Luna, Sirius,” growls Celestia.
This sends a dagger into his heart and he collapses to the ground, vision foggy with tears and his breathing painful. Then Custos steps forward, his horn glowing and summoning rock like tendrils with green veins from the ground around Sirius. Sirius jumps to his hooves and tries to escape by flying out, but the tendrils create a force field that singe his coat and feathers, and push him to the ground. A sharp pain shoots up his back and he groans as he rolls to his feet, panting and whimpering when he sees the cracks in the floor. Then there is a loud bang and electric crackles as the tendrils connect with each other.
“Prince Sirius, son of Lord Secret Fire, for your crimes you are hereby banished to the Void!” booms Custos.
Sirius panics and runs in circles, banging his body against and shooting magical attacks at the forcefield. But his efforts prove to be futile; all he gets is more burning pain and magical backlash that makes it feel like his horn and head are splitting open.
“Your banishment will be five hundred years for every innocent blood you have shed!”
Sirius bangs on the forcefield, being momentarily blinded by the light emitted from underneath his hoof and cringing from the searing pain. He looks past Celestia and Luna, towards the throne and tries to see his parents, but he can’t. He can now feel parts of his body being torn apart in fiery flakes; the pain makes him slide to the ground but he still manages to keep his hoof on the wall.
“Father! Mother! I only wanted what was best!” sobs Sirius. “Don’t do this!”
“Good bye, my son,” whispers a saddened stallion in his head.
Then there is a bright flash of light, and Sirius screams and-
O----O----O
Time Turner gasps and flinches back as the world he was in breaks apart in a dusty explosion. His heart feels heavy and his eyes and face are wet from tears and he feels a massive lump in his throat. He also no longer feels pain or fresh blood, and when he rubs his hoof over his facial injury he feels his claws scrape against ridges. He clumsily removes the boots and rubs his hoof over the wound and realizes that his wounds were cauterized during his out of body experience. Time Turner’s hoof trembles as he lowers it and looks at the apparition, he wants to thank him for healing him, but all he can do is stare in disbelief with his jaw dropped.
“I am very real,” says the figure in a solemn, heartbreaking whisper as his hoof lowers from Time Turner’s forehead.
“Who... Are you Sirius?” asks Time Turner, wiping tears from his eyes and trying to break up the lump in his throat.
The wispy figure nods, steps forward and puts his hoof to his chest.
“Yes, I am Sirius, son of Lord Secret Fire and heir to the throne of Equus,” he says, his tone still grief ridden; then he bows. “And it is an honor to finally meet you in the flesh, Time Turner Whooves, son of Tonneau Watch Whooves.”
“You... you were in my dreams, weren’t you?” asks Time Turner carefully, once again rubbing his scars in gentle strokes.
“Yes. And by my good graces I have extended my hoof to assist you in your quest to find your wife and daughter, and to heal you.”
Time Turner stops rubbing and looks at Sirius quizzically and suspiciously. As much as he is grateful for Sirius healing him, he is still skeptical about what his intentions are or why he showed him a piece of his memory.
“Why? I mean I am grateful, but I just don’t understand why somepony like... like you, would help me. I killed somepony- I mean I killed two ponies!”
“What choice did you have? You have a family to find and while they became vile like diamond dogs you still tried to avoid death. They forced your hoof and now they paid the price.” Sirius looks at the corpses. “It looks like you and I are more alike than I thought, though.”
Time Turner shakes his head and slides to the ground, trembling at the aftermath of his actions.
“I’m a killer,” whispers Time Turner. “Now I’ll never get out of here and find Derpy and Dinky. I’ll probably be locked up in solitary or-”
“Now, now, don’t be like that,” says Sirius soothingly as he walks next to Time Turner, putting a comforting hoof on his shoulder that gives him warmth and a great sense of strength. “These acts were... tragic, but they were necessary. Just think, if you had let them have their way with you, you would be dead and Derpy and Dinky would be forever alone in this distopia.”
Sirius pulls away, and with it, all of the warmth and hopes of great strength, leaving nothing but the cold, damp conditions of the cave. The sudden unpleasant feelings make Time Turner shiver violently and he hugs himself to stay warm.
“I see myself in you,” says Sirius smoothly. “We are both willing to do terrible things to protect the ones we love. While I no longer have family to call my own, you do, and with my help you shall get them back.”
“But that vision...?”
“What you saw was me showing you that I am real and that I know what it is like to be abandoned by the ones you love,” says Sirius, his tone suddenly snappy. The sudden snappiness makes Time Turner flinch, but it only takes a moment or Sirius to recollect himself. “I don’t want your wife and daughter to think that you abandoned them.”
Time Turner’s ears perk up and he quickly gets to his hooves and points at Sirius with a snarl.
“I would never abandon them and they know it!” shouts Time Turner.
When his voice stops echoing off of the walls, Sirius steps closer to him.
“Really? I never thought I would be betrayed by my own blood, and yet I was. You and all of Equestria never thought you would live in fear of your goddess, and yet here you are. You think you will never go back to your old self, and yet,” he points Wine Glass’s corpse, “you’ve already started.”
Sirius steps back back and expands his wings while Time Turner looks at the corpse. He covers his mouth with his hoof and looks away while closing his eyes, not wanting to see what he has done.
“Nothing is certain, Master Whooves,” claims Sirius bluntly. “How can you be certain that your wife and daughter will remain faithful to you when you are locked up? I can help you save them, but I need your help.”
Time Turner thinks for a moment; he looks at the ponies he killed, then at his bloody boots and then he rubs the ridges on his cheek.
“You can get them back?” he asks skeptically. “You can get Derpy and Dinky back?”
Sirius does a subtle nod. “Yes, but all I ask for in return is a favor.”
Time Turner’s hoof drops from his cheek and takes a deep breath and breathes slowly through his nose before looking back at Sirius. He wishes that Sirius was more defined, and not like the green cloud shaped like an alicorn. It makes it more difficult to read him. However, he knows Sirius has a point; how can he expect Derpy and Dinky to believe in him when he is stuck? How can he save them when he is but a simple stallion in the middle of the worst place in Equestria?
After a minute of pondering, Time Turner takes a step closer to Sirius with his verdict.
“What do you want me to do?” Time Turner asks boldly.
Sirius motions towards the stone Time Turner used to bash in the goon’s head.
“After my betrayal, I tried to return home using a device of great power, but it was broken during a battle with my sister. That is a piece of it, an ally that I will reveal in due time is in possession of another, and there are four more scattered throughout Equestria. Reuniting the pieces will allow me to return home.”
“How do I know that you can help me save them?” says Time Turner as he approaches the piece, his skin tingling and his fur standing up from the power it is generating.
“You don’t,” says Sirius, making Time Turner stop in his tracks. “But I can. Have faith in me as I have faith in you.”
Time Turner’s ears swivel and he looks towards the hole above the slope when he hears the alarm ringing. He looks back at the stone, knowing that it is now or never. He walks closer to the stone and the tingling sensation returns, and when he pushes the corpse aside he is hypnotized by its strange beauty. The blood from his victim has left red traces in it, making its archaic symbols stand out; the symbols are broken around the edges, but they are whole in the center and he is hearing strange whispers from it that sound a lot like the ones he heard during his scuffle with Wine Glass. He extends his hoof to grab it and the tingling feelings of power and the warmth of comfort flood through his veins once more. The feelings bring a small smile to his face.
“Before you do anything, Master Whooves, I must know that you are willing to do what is necessary to not only save your wife and daughter, but me as well,” states Sirius.
Time Turner nods his head with unquenchable determination in his eyes. “Yes, I will do whatever it takes to get them back.”
Time Turner has a feeling that Sirius is smiling when his tone gets an almost childlike excitement to it. “Excellent! Equestria needs more ponies like you. Just grab the piece and I will give you the strength to save your family.”
When Time Turner touches the artifact, it starts glowing a dark red and humming. As the device hums, the whispers radiating from it get louder and it bathes Time Turner in a green mist that makes him feel newer and stronger and not so alone in the cold world. He sits on his haunches, cupping the chunk to his chest and wiping the the thick layer of blood off. He smiles when he feels even better now that he’s holding it; he feels invincible! He hugs the stone against his chest and closes his eyes with a big smile. But unbeknownst to him, the symbols gradually turn green and the stone glows brighter.
“Eíste orycheío.”
Time Turner's eyes open and his smile disappears when he sees the whole cavern lit in green. His eyes move down and becomes terror stricken when he sees gaseous fingers slide out of the cube and slither into his skin. At first they do nothing, but then they dig in, literally. Time Turner screams in pain and drops the stone, but that doesn't stop the mist from seeping in, and it actually pulls him to the ground. Time Turner thrashes and cries as the green mist burrows itself into him, lighting up his veins and traveling up to his brain.
Time Turner closes his eyes and presses his hooves against his head when he feels pressure building up in his skull to where it feels like it'll explode. As he thrashes on the ground, he feels and hears the ground collapse around him. He opens his eyes, sweating and panting from pain, and he feels both of his pupils shifting to the green color. He also notices a small beam of light poking its way through a hole that is conveniently at a decent angle and size for him to crawl to and through to escape the hellhole.
“There is your freedom,” echoes Sirius. “Now go forth and bring the pieces of the Lunar Cube to the ruins of the Palace of Armonia, and I will see to it that your family is returned.”
“Wait, what happened to me!” demands Time Turner, swearing and collapsing to the ground when he feels fire rush through his veins and sear his brain.
“I made you better. Now go, your family depends on my release, and time is not on your side.”
“What’s that supposed to mean!?”
Silence.
“Sirius?”
More silence.
Time Turner calls for Sirius again as he paces around the room in search for the projection, but when he hears the indistinct shouting from the guards he stuffs the piece of the Lunar Cube in his saddlebag and puts on his boots. After doing that he clambers up the slope, occasionally slipping and sliding down a few feet, and crawls his way out of the hole. Once he’s outside he is greeted by the full force of an uncovered sun and scorching weather that forces his eyes to shut and remember how brutal the Badlands are. However, that goes without saying that the cloudless sky and hot temperature is a nice contrast to the grim mines he just escaped from.
When he opens his eyes again he realizes just how beautiful the Badlands are. The seemingly endless field of rust covered sand is covered with pockets of desert shrub and spires of stone rise out of the ground in the most random of places. Add in the red mountains surrounding the desert and a single railroad track leading to a the thin line of green in the distance and a landscape artist will feel right at him. After taking a moment to drink in all the beauty of the scolding wasteland, he begins his march towards freedom. While he’s climbing down a ragged slope, an unnerving thought crosses his mind: he has no supplies to help him cross. Then there is the idea of crossing a desert as an escaped convict with the maximum security prison behind him that will no doubt send a small army to nab him.
“Oh bloody hay, this is going to be rough.”
oooOOOooo
Off in the distance, an earth pony mare wearing a desert ghillie suit with thick goggles watches Time Turner through a camouflaged telescope she has perched on a tripod. She snickers when she sees him slide down and hit a cactus after taking a misstep in his trip down. Then she coos and zooms in when she sees a square fall out of his saddlebag. Time Turner fumbles with it until it back in his sack and then he continues his trip down with more caution.
The mysterious mare uncovers a radio that had been disguised to look like a rock and she adjusts the dial until she gets a signal.
“Nasty Butler, Fighting Chicken. Nasty Butler, Fighting Chicken. Do you read. Over.”
There is a moment of nothing but static.
“Fighting Chicken this is Nasty Butler, I read you clear and loud. What’s the news on the sand? Over,” crackles a stallion over her radio.
“Somepony just crawled out of the furnace and he has golden poo. I repeat, escaped pony has golden poo.”
“Track and snatch, and bring him back to the lab. Over and out.”
The mare clicks the radio off, packs up her gear, and starts skipping towards Time Turner’s general direction, singing:
“I’m going to get you.
Oh yes I am. Yes I am. Yes I am.
Oh I’m going to get you.
Oh yes I am. Yes I am. Yes I am.
And were going to have yaaaams.
Yeah, yams.”
=**********=
Dodge City...
“And you said your name was...?”
“Macintosh.”
The stallion that asked the question has a grayish-scarlet coat with his mane and tail being a darker shade of his coat, and is sporting a pair of sunglasses and a worn coat. The stallion also has two mares next to him, twin pegasi wearing similar outfits to him with battle saddles. Both have the same grayish-blue pelts and icy mane and tails, but one has her’s soft and neatly combed while the other is a spiky mess; the combed one looks timid while the spiky one looks like she’s itching for something to go down. Big Mac isn’t fazed by their appearance, though, he still holds his renown stoic expression, wishing he had a haystalk to chew on.
When he first stepped into the hotel he didn’t really know what to expect, he only saw the winged, upside down crescent moon of the Lunar Revolution painted on the wall and thought “friend”. He expected the guards to cower slightly at his massive size and them to do a search before entering. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was the interior to be the cleanest part of the whole city. The tiles were polished, the walls clean of any grime, and the bars fully stocked with complete sets of comfortable furniture in the lounges. In fact, the dirtiest part of the whole place were the occupants. Big Mac took a moment to marvel at the beautiful architecture of the interior, too, and that was when he met the dark colored stallion, who introduced himself as Burnt Oak. The mares remain anonymous.
After having a small conversation, Burnt Oak leads Big Mac down a hallway, also guarded by ponies wearing the same duster garb. He takes Big Mac into a waiting room fitted with comfortable seats and a stylish mural of a full moon painted on the wall. Burnt Oak leaves to get someone, leaving his two anonymous guards to watch Big Mac. The rough one of the two is obviously checking him out, but he tries to reason that his mind is playing tricks with him. However, when she gives him a wink and a flutter of her wings he knows he just became eye candy.
The timid one frowns and nudges her partner.
“Cloud, stop it,” she whispers angrily.
Cloud rolls her eyes and the two mares step to the side on instinct when the door opens up behind them. Burnt Oak walks out from the office and motions Big Mac up.
“Ms. Jubilee will see you now.”
Big Mac heads towards the office, trying not to show any reaction when Cloud brushes her tail against his flank. Big Mac then finds out her name is “Cloudchaser” when she is scolded by Burnt Oak, and her twin is “Flitter” when Burnt Oak orders her to keep an eye on her sister.
Once inside the spacious, rustic office, Big Mac notices that there is a Lunar Revolution flag hanging from a pole and that Cherry Jubilee is hiding her horrible aging underneath a cartoonish amount of makeup. He also picks up the strong scent of spent cigarettes and is quick to find the source on her desk: three full ashtrays, and a fourth one halfway full. Big Mac wonders how anyone can smoke so much and how she can even use a cigarette. A unicorn can levitate those cancer sticks, but for an earth pony, just getting a cigarette out of the box is a chore in itself.
“So nice to see you again, Macky,” purrs Cherry Jubilee after spitting her cigarette into the fourth ashtray.
“With all due respect, ma’am, only one mare is allowed to call me that,” says Big Mac politely.
Cherry Jubilee sighs comically and motions Big Mac to take a seat on one of the cushions in front of her desk. Big Mac ignores the slightly uncomfortable feeling he’s getting from the seats being too small and sits up straight like the gentlemen he is. Cherry Jubilee folds her hooves over each other and leans forward, smiling.
“So, who’s the lucky lady?”
“Beg your pardon?”
“You said only one mare was allowed to use your pet name, and I’m just curious as to who it is.”
“Ma’am, I came to talk favors, not personal life.”
“Somepony’s grouchy.” Big Mac jumps slightly when Cherry Jubilee suddenly starts coughing into her hoof in such a way that he’s afraid she will cough up a lung. After nearly ten seconds of coughing, her eyes are glistening and she’s wheezing for air. “Damn cancer sticks.”
Cherry Jubilee wipes her eyes and stares at her hoof, sighing with relief as she looks at her overused handkerchief. Big Mac asks her if she’s okay, and her response is a simple wave of her hoof and unintelligible grumbling.
“What kind of favors are you looking for?” asks Cherry Jubilee in a raspy, weak voice, swallowing some mucus and forcing herself to smile a moment later.
“I need help finding AJ. We were arrested by the CDA and I just recently got out,” explains Big Mac.
“Yeah, you were all over the news when that happened. But what do you want me to do about it? I just run a ranch and hotel.”
Big Mac arches an eyebrow and Cherry Jubilee smiles innocently.
“As a front, of course, but I’m still not one for favors, Mac. What’s the tradeoff?”
Big Mac’s eyes narrow. “What happened to ‘friend of the family’?”
Cherry Jubilee scoffs. “Friendship is nothing but an outdated idea now. Each day Celestia gets more power hungry and folks left and right are giving up friends and family to the EIB and CDA just to keep their own hides safe. So sorry if I seem less than willing to just hand out favors.”
Big Mac and Cherry Jubilee silently stare at each other, both holding harsh gazes; but eventually Cherry Jubilee’s gaze falls to her desk and she slumps in her seat, sighing sadly. Big Mac, on the other hand, still keeps his eyes locked on her.
“Looks like this was a waste of time then, since you are not honoring the Apple-Jubilee Pact,” says Big Mac in a dangerously low voice.
“Look, Mac, I-”
Big Mac doesn’t give her the time to explain herself; he heads towards the door, nodding politely to Burnt Oak along the way, but Cherry Jubilee jumps to her hooves and calls after Big Mac. He stops and looks at her, still keeping his glare, as she walks towards him, trying to put on a brave face.
“Mac, it’s nothing personal, but the pact between our families is about business deals, not helping escaped convicts break out other convicts,” says Cherry Jubilee defensively. “Just let her go for now. You need time to...”
Cherry Jubilee falls silent when Big Mac stomps towards her, glaring daggers and snorting hot air. Cherry Jubilee gulps and takes a step back while Burnt Oak orders Flitter and Cloudchaser inside. The two pegasi rush in and aim their battle saddles at Big Mac, but he’s too pissed off at the mare in front of him to care. When he steps closer to her, she shrinks back and her guards step closer and order Big Mac to step away immediately.
“That was a, um, a poor choice of words,” Cherry Jubilee says nervously.
Big Mac continues to glare at her, and when she whispers an apology he snorts and turns to leave the room. Cherry Jubilee’s guards glare at him but are smart enough to part a path for him to the exit. When Big Mac’s back is to Burnt Oak he hears him order Cloudchaser and Flitter to escort him out of the building. Big Mac wants to say something snarky, like “I can find my own way out, thank you very much” or something else along those lines. however, seeing as the two pegasi are on a hair trigger he knows that it would really stupid on his part. He’s already seen his fair share of pegasi acting in a high strung state. Never again will he let Applejack prank Rainbow Dash after a round of ghost stories.
So, Big Mac quietly allows Flitter and Cloudchaser to escort him out of the grand hotel, and some eyes do fall on the trio, but they don’t stay long. Most of the ponies that looked at them went back to their salt bricks or hard cider. Big Mac guesses that visitors being led out by armed security is a common sight. When they get to the door Flitter opens it up and steps aside so her sister and Big Mac can go through. Big Mac thanks her with a quick nod and her idea of saying “Your welcome” is a nervous stare; her sister on the other hand...
“Note me,” says Cloudchaser with a sultry smile and tone; she gets a wing slap and a glare from her sister instantaneously.
“Sorry, ma’am, but I’m taken.”
“So.”
Big Mac takes that as a great sign to leave. And leave he does. Quickly. Without looking back and burning all unwanted images from his mind.
Once stepping outside to the dirty streets of Dodge City, Big Mac takes a moment to figure out where he wants to go. Being as Dodge City has grown exponentially since he was last there, he has no idea where to go. Thankfully Big Mac spots a large map of the city that tourists can use to figure out where they are; unfortunately years of neglect and juvenile abuse makes it incredibly difficult to read. As he studies the map, a mini-train speeds around the corner, almost tipping over and covers Big Mac and the shuffling crowd with dirt. The crowd shouts at the vehicle before resuming their miserable walk, but Big Mac doesn’t pay any attention to it, that is until it starts blaring obnoxious circus music.
Big Mac stares at the truck as it opens up to the masses. Its circus patterned side opens up like a stage cart, spewing out colorful smoke and fireworks, and a stage slides out as well as exaggerated instruments blaring the horrible music. There are also racks stuffed with overpriced, poor quality goods sitting in the back and on the sides. Big Mac decides his best bet to keep his sanity in tact would be to walk away.
“STEP RIGHT UP TO THE WONDERFUL WONDER CART OF WONDERS!” shouts a stallion into a megaphone.
The sudden shout makes Big Mac’s heart skip a beat, but he resumes his walking after giving the pony responsible for the outburst a quick stare. A stare is all Big Mace needed to keep himself walking, too. The stallion is a unicorn with a gray coat, bushy, white eyebrows and goatee and a messy, greasy, black mane and tail with white streaks in them as well as having black hooves. However, what really weirds out Big Mac is the fact that the unicorn’s eyes are red and different sizes, his sclera is yellow, and he has an overgrown tooth.
“YOU! BIG COLT WITH THE BIG LEGS AND TIGHT MUSCLES! I WAS TALKING TO YOU!”
Big Mac stops and turns around to look at the strange unicorn, then shakes his head and continues walking. He can hear the unicorn sigh explosively in his megaphone and put his stuff back in the truck, then he appears in front of Big Mac with a flash of light. Big Mac stumbles back, blinking the floating blobs of color out of vision, and glares at the unicorn.
“The name is Oddball, nice to meet you,” says the unicorn as he extends his hoof.
“Good afternoon, Oddball, I have to go now,” says Big Mac as politely as he can while stepping around Oddball.
“I know I did that backwards, but let’s cut to the chase, shall we?”
“I’m not going to buy anything from you.”
Oddball chuckles. “Oh no, you got the wrong idea.” He trots next to Big Mac, summoning a purple coat, a top hat, and a cane with a fancy gem at the top. “I actually want to help you since I know where Applejack is.”
Big Mac stops and turns to Oddball, who is now spinning the cane with his magic and grinning. Big Mac looks side to side and then motions Oddball to go to an alley with him. Once they are in an alley, safe from wandering eyes or curious ears, Big Mac puts his hoof on Oddball’s shoulder and looks at him with sternly.
“Who are you and how do you know about AJ?”
Oddball smiles and uses the cane to gently remove Big Mac’s hoof, saying: “I already told you, I’m Oddball, traveling salespony extraordinaire, I hear and see things all of the time because I am everywhere.” He clears his throat. “I was an old friend of good ole Applejack. Sweet girl in desperate need of a coltfriend.”
“AJ never mentioned you,” says Big Mac, his impatience growing quicker by the second.
“Well that was kinda expected since we had a falling out. I just wanted some fun and she took it the wrong way.” When he sees Big Mac’s eyes narrowing, he makes another exaggerated sigh. “Not that kind of fun. If we were talking about that kind of it would be with Pinkie Pie or Celestia. Everypony has the hots for Cel-”
Big Mac silences the unicorn by putting his hoof over his mouth; yet despite doing this, the unicorn continues talking like Pinkie Pie on a sugar rush.
“Just tell me how to find AJ and I’ll be on my way,” orders Big Mac.
When Oddball goes silent, Big Mac removes his hoof and the unicorn straightens out his goatee with a brush that has Trixie’s cutie mark on it. This makes Big Mac raise an eyebrow and Oddball is quick to explain that he bought it from a phony magician.
“I’m starting to think you don’t know where AJ is,” accuses Big Mac.
“I’m starting to think you talk too much for somepony who’s just as quiet as Fluttershy. Speaking of which, it’s always the quiet ones that-”
Big Mac walks away from Oddball with an agitated huff and he hears him calling for him to come back, but he ignores him. That is until Oddball teleports in front of him again. After appearing in front of Big Mac, Oddball jabs him in the chest with his cane and pushes him back with strength that could only come from magical manipulation.
“Okay, Big Guy, I can see your patience is dwindling quicker than Rainbow Dash’s self esteem, so I’ll make this quick,” says Oddball with an unexpected burst of sternness. “Not only can I help you get Applejack back, but I can also get you two tickets to the underground railroad.”
“What are you talking about?”
Oddball sighs while rolling his eyes. “I mean I can get you two out of the country before the ponies in black get you again, but I can’t do this for free. I need help finding a certain piece of property that means the world to me.”
Big Mac studies the pony’s facial expressions in an attempt to see if the salespony is lying. Applejack is, by far, the superior one in this trait, but Big Mac is good enough to know when someone is bluffing, and after scrutinizing Oddball, he comes to the conclusion that his leg is not being pulled.
“What property are you talking about?” asks Big Mac carefully.
Oddball grins. “Have you heard of the Lunar Cube?”
