Dr. Horae

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?”