The Effects of Gravity

by Akela Stronghoof

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Comedy
Length: 11586

Dipper finds a cave in the woods. Mabel joins him to look inside. Ponies ensue.

Dipper finds a cave in the woods. When Mabel joins him to investigate, ponies ensue.

Cover art is this until I can find something better.

Written because of a complete sudden obsession with Ken Ashcorp's "Supernatural," as well as the excellent Disney show "Gravity Falls."

Published 2012-12-14 23:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-01-29 17:26:28 UTC

Part I - The Cave

The Effects of Gravity – Akela Stronghoof

---xOx---

Part I – The Cave

---xOx---

“C’mon, Dipper! Hurry up!” The brown haired-girl scrambled over a log, twigs and bits of leaf matter catching the fibers of her sweater. Leaves crunched underfoot as she continued up the slope. Behind her, the messy-haired boy carefully hopped over the same log, making sure not to lose his footing or drop the thick, weatherworn book he was carrying.

“Mabel, slow down!” Dipper panted, squinting a bit as the rays of the dying sun fell across his face. He stumbled, regained his footing, and raced to catch up with his sister. “It’s a cave, it’s not like it’s going anywhere,” Dipper snarked, pulling alongside Mabel.

“Oh Dipper,” the brown-haired girl giggled. “Getting there is half the fun! C’mon, I’ll race you!” She laughed and scrambled forward, tripping and landing on her knees but getting right back up and continuing to run. Her hair fanned out into a brown wave as she bounded up the side of the mountain.

Dipper’s face split into a grin, his twin’s good mood proving infectious. “Oh no you don’t!” he called, tightening his grip on the book and breaking into a sprint. He leapt over a boulder and was soon neck and neck with his sister, the two glancing at each other with identical grins.

Their peals of laughter echoed off of the mountains as day turned to dusk.

---xOx---

The sun shined merrily overhead, easily penetrating the thin cloud layer the weather pegasi had dragged into place that morning. Foals played in the streets, vendors hawked their wares, and the mingled aromas of various restaurants fought for clientele. It was at one such restaurant—The Lemongrass Meadow—that the Bearers of the elements of Harmony were having their weekly lunch.

“Delicious, simply divine! Did I not tell you that the food here was marvelous?” Rarity inquired, staring pointedly at the polychromatic pegasus across the table.

“Yeah, I guess,” Rainbow Dash yawned, poking listlessly at her sandwich with the tip of a hoof. “I still think MareDonald’s makes a better burger though.”

“It needs more sugar!” Pinkie chimed in. “A raspberry soup should be suuuuuper sweet!!”

Applejack threw her metaphorical hat in the ring. “’N this apple fritter ain’t nothin’ compared t’ the ones Ah can whip up on th’ farm.”

Rarity huffed, pouting. “Fillystines.”

Twilight snorted as Fluttershy turned to the fashionista. “I-I think it’s delicious, Rarity.”

Rarity bestowed a smile on the butter-yellow pony. “Why thank you, Fluttershy. I’m glad somepopny knows quality when she tastes it,” she added, shooting a glare at the three offenders.

“C’mon girls, don’t argue,” Twilight interceded, quelling the burgeoning fight. “Let’s just enjoy lunch, okay?” The five other mares voiced their agreement, and soon the table was loud with laughter and conversation.

---xOx---

“Ummm. . . Mabel?” Dipper spoke, shifting nervously. His voice quavered a bit, an undertone of fear forcing its way into his words. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to go today. It’s dark out now, we could come back tomorrow.”

Mabel didn’t respond. She was too busy staring at one of the most impressive sights she had ever seen, mouth agape and eyes slightly glazed over. Before the two of them yawned a massive cave opening, the small stalactites studding the entrance turning it into the maw of some vermiform beast. The cave appeared to suck in light like some sort of malevolent black hole. Even the air was different, the chill breeze wafting from the bowels of the cave carrying a weight that no wind should carry. “Big. . .” Mabel breathed, her words echoing away into the void.

“Mabel.” Dipper shook her arm. The girl didn’t respond. “Mabel!”

Mabel started, jumping a bit. “Hwa! Oh. What is it, Dipper?”

“Maybe we should go back to the Mystery Shack. It’s getting really late, it’ll take a while to get back and it’ll be even harder when we can’t see if we’re gonna trip over a rock or something. Besides, Grunkle Stan is probably wondering where we are and—” Dipper was interrupted by a snort from Mabel. Scowling at her, he continued. “Okay, fine, maybe Grunkle Stan doesn’t care. But I bet Soos is worried out of his mind—” Mabel coughed and pointed to Dipper’s watch. He took a look—nine oh seven pm, Tuesday. “Oh. Um. Free nacho night in town. That’s right. Um. Well. W-we should still probably go back, just so that—”

Mabel giggled, cutting off her brother yet again. “Oh, Dipper you’re such a scaredy cat!” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “Maybe you should go back and play with some yarn! Geddit? ‘Cuz you’re a scaredy CAT? Ahaha!”

Dipper adjusted his hat and scowled at his sister as she shook from laughter. “First of all, that wasn’t even clever. Secondly, I’m not scared! I just don’t think it’s a good idea to explore this place at night.” He gulped. “In the dark.”

“Oh Dipper,” Mabel giggled. “That’s what we brought flashlights for, silly!” Mabel then proceeded to grab the flashlight from her twin’s belt and demonstrate that it worked by rapidly flicking it on and off. She placed the beam of light under her chin and affected a deep voice, “ooo-oooh”-ing and wiggling the fingers on her free hand.

Annoyance temporarily overcame fear as Dipper scowled and snatched the flashlight back from his snickering sister. “Stop it! I already told you I’m not scared. It’s just irrational to do this at this time of night. So come on, we’re leave—”

“Scaredy cat.”

“I said I’m no—”

“Scaredy cat!”

“I’m NOT a¬—”

“Scaredy cat scaredy cat scaredy cat—”

“I’m NOT a scaredy cat!” Dipper flipped on the flashlight and stormed forward into the cave, Mabel following close behind him, snickering.

---xOx---

“Pffft! You can’t fit that entire slice of cake into your mouth, silly!”

“Oh yeah!? Watch me! Omnomnomnom!”

“Gasp!”

“Well tie me up an’ call me a zap apple, she did it!”

“Yeah, and now she’s doing a victory dance!”

“. . . Pinkie, Ah don’t think tha’ clutchin’ at yer neck an’ turnin’ purple ‘s a victory dance.”

Twilight stared at the the spectacle of Pinkie holding Dash’s forelegs behind her back while Applejack bucked her in the stomach repeatedly. Dash finally coughed up the cake, gasping for breath. The lavender unicorn shook her head despairingly.

“Why has this happened three times already?”

---xOx---

The light from the outside of the cave quickly faded, leaving the twins in the all-encompassing darkness. The beam from Dipper’s flashlight lanced through the gloom and illuminated a collection of stalagmites shaped vaguely like a claw of some sort. Tiny, squirming, nameless things with no eyes shuddered out of the light as Dipper brought it around. The twelve-year old shivered, a cold trickle of fear making its way down his back and dispelling the anger-fueled bravery that had caused him to walk into the cave in the first place.

The beam of light caught motes of dust as Dipper pointed it further inward. It hit the craggy sides of the cave, yet dissipated before it could reveal what lay ahead. Dipper was forcefully reminded of something he had seen only a few months ago.

School had been in session then, and Dipper was grabbing a cup of milk and a vanilla pudding from the refrigerator before heading back up to finish his math homework. On the way, a documentary his mother had been watching in the den had caught his attention.

It was about something called “blue holes.” From what the messy-haired boy had managed to glean, they had terrified him. In the ocean there were spots where a large patch of seafloor would just drop, leaving something like a sinkhole. The water inside the hole would be exponentially less dense than the liquid around it, and if you accidentally swam into one you would sink to the bottom, utterly helpless.

Dipper felt like he was standing the precipice of a blue hole, and that if he took a step further into the cave he wouldn’t come out. His throat went dry and his hands were shaking as he turned to his twin. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, opened it again, and managed a strangled “ghrk.” Now, roughly translated, “ghrk” means “Mabel, come on. We got this far, but something is gonna happen to us if we go any further and that something is gonna be bad. Let’s leave and come back in the daytime, when there’s a smaller chance that something will kill us.”

Unfortunately, Mabel was not fluent in the language of pure unadulterated terror, so all she heard was Dipper making a sound like he was choking on a peanut. Even that was then pushed into the dark recesses of Mabel’s mind as she registered a flash far ahead being reflected off of the flecks of mica in the sides of the cave.

Mabel was a bit like a cat. The second the mysterious light glinted off of the walls, Mabel’s mind was taken over by instinct and one single, overpowering thought—GET THE SHINY. The brown-haired girl’s legs were in motion before she thought about it. “MINE!” she shrieked, arms outstretched and fingers twitching, shooting down the tunnel and around a corner before her twin could even react.

“Mabel!” Dipper shouted, panicking immediately. He took a step forward and stopped, breathing sharply, eyes flicking back and forth between the flashlight with the surely-diminishing battery and the passageway his sister had disappeared down. Should he run after her? He could leave, go back to town and find Soos or Wendy or someone else willing to help him.

The decision was made in an instant.

Dipper tightened his grip on the tome and the flashlight and ran forward into the depths of the cavern.

Even though he was reasonably sure that something was hiding in the darkness, waiting to dine on his flesh, Dipper never looked back. She might be annoying, she might be a bit crazy, but darn it, Mabel was his sister and he loved her. Nothing was going to happen to her, nothing at all.

Not on his watch.

---xOx---

“. . . and that is why projection fields cannot be double-cast while working with reactive time-loop spells, and that is also why Spike is never, ever allowed to bring Snips and Snails into my lab again. Ever.”

Twilight looked around, eager to see the effect her detailed and engaging lecture had on her friends. Fluttershy was questioning Pinkie Pie about cupcakes for Angel Bunny’s birthday, Applejack and Rarity were debating the pros and cons of a gemstone-encrusted plow, and Rainbow Dash was leaning back and snoring, a stream of drool hanging from her mouth.

“Hmph,” Twilight pouted, “Everypony’s a critic.”

---xOx---

The cave floor became slick as the messy-haired boy went ever deeper, his shoes slapping loudly against the wet rock. Dipper rounded another bend, breathing heavily. Just how far had Mabel gone anyway? The cave system was massive, much larger than he had originally thought. If there was a fork in the path up ahead, he could go the wrong way and not find his sister, or worse, he could get lost himself. Dipper just had to hope that the tunnel he was in continued on a linear path and—oh no.

The narrow passageway opened up into a huge open space, maybe two hundred feet across. The ceiling soared up into infinity, cloaked in darkness that even Dipper’s flashlight couldn’t penetrate. Ancient, massive stalactites extended like vicious claws from the ceiling, curling into vicious points that dripped moisture. The droplets fell in a sinister staccato, the uneven drip drop playing a nameless tune in the back of the boy’s mind. To complete the image and, Dipper suspected, to mess with him specifically, were at least ten openings to other tunnels.

Dipper bit his lip. How the heck was he going to find the right passageway? Walking up to one, he ran a hand along the side. He jerked his hand back with a hiss of pain, leaving a shiny patch on the wall. Dipper gingerly touched the cut on his palm and then gently wiped it on his shirt. Muttering a condemnation of all things sharp he stalked back to his original tunnel and took another look around the chamber.

All of the tunnels were on the ground floor, so at least there wouldn’t be climbing involved. How could he find Mabel? He could try shouting her name at the entrance to each passage, but he doubted that she would answer him. How about trained carrier pigeons? No, no, that was stupid. Mabel’s pig, Waddles, would probably be able to sniff her out. It would take an hour to get him from the Mystery Shack, though, and during that time who knows what kind of trouble Mabel could get herself into.

The flashlight passed over the tunnels again. What about—wait. Dipper narrowed his eyes. What was that? The flashlight swept back to the third tunnel before steadying. There, clinging to the rocky wall, was a clump of blue threads from Mabel’s sweater that must have gotten caught and torn off as the brown-haired girl ran by. The messy-haired boy wasted no time in sprinting over and inspecting the fabric, making sure it was Mabel’s before turning and following the tunnel.

He felt odd—there was a strangeness to the air in this tunnel. The breeze rushing by him had a weight, a viscosity to it, and the messy-haired boy’s movements felt sluggish, as if he was trying to run underwater. Even the sound of his footsteps on the cold, damp stone was muted, seemingly absorbed by the passage’s sides. The walls themselves had long since become far too smooth for it to be normal, and the beam of Dipper’s flashlight, while strong as ever, had stopped piercing the darkness in front of him. Dipper was so preoccupied by these anomalies that he didn’t even stop to wonder why there was a breeze this deep in a cave.

A minute later and Dipper was having trouble advancing. The atmosphere had managed to thicken even more, oppressive and smothering. The boy took another step forward and a chill went down his spine, making him twitch and causing him to drop his precious light source. The flashlight appeared to fall in slow motion, yet the force of it hitting the ground was somehow still enough to crack the cheap plastic lens, break open the top, and send the batteries spinning off into oblivion.

The darkness, previously held at bay by the now-defunct flashlight, crashed onto Dipper from all sides like the fist of god.

Dipper felt like he was suffocating, his heart beating faster than a jackrabbit’s. Choking, he fell to his knees, skinning them but not caring as he frantically groped around for the components of his salvation. The book he was holding fell with a muted thump. His fingers closed on the plastic shaft, and his other hand managed to find one of the batteries. He pushed the first D-battery into the tube, and blindly flailed in a vain attempt to locate the other one.

The messy-haired boy let out a muffled sob—he was going to die here, alone in the dark, killed by some strange, unexplainable force that would compress him into nothingness. He wanted to leave, he wanted to go home and tell his parents that he loved them, he wanted to play with Mabel and make jokes with Soos and hang out with Wendy and he wanted to live and—

The pressure disappeared as quickly as it came, washing off of Dipper like he had been covered in mud and someone had sprayed him with a fire hose. He levered himself up. The flashlight was ignored completely in favor of the most beautiful light he had ever seen, shining brightly from about fifty feet in front of him. The messy-haired boy grabbed the book, stood, and, as if in a trance, walked forward. The light increased in intensity, brighter than the sun but not hurting Dipper’s eyes even as he stared directly at it.

He stepped into the chamber and the glow swelled even more, even though it didn’t seem possible. The entire room was suffused with the white light, thrumming along to some unknown beat that soothed Dipper. He had a sudden flashback, remembering the songs his mother would sing to him to calm his fears when he was little. He remembered the way she would wipe away his tears when he had nightmares, take him and whisper reassurances while she rocked him to sleep.

Dipper felt the same sense of peace steal over him now, calming him down to the point that when he saw Mabel, he didn’t immediately run to her. Instead, he drifted over at an easy pace, never taking his eyes off of the Crystal in the center of the room. It was surely the Crystal that the light had come from, of that there was no doubt. It shined lovingly, tenderly, flashing to the beat of waves against a peaceful shore, the light inside leaping in graceful curves off of its smooth, perfect surface.

“So beautiful. . .” He breathed, coming to a stop beside his brown-haired twin.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, her acknowledgment barely reaching Dipper’s ears.

They stood there basking for some time.

And some more.

Finally, after what could have been a second or an hour, Dipper slowly looked away from the Crystal.

“I think it’s time to go,” he said. For some reason, he felt like the darkness couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“Yeah,” Mabel said quietly. The siblings looked at the Crystal for a few more seconds before turning away. They went to leave, and they would have made a peaceful exit had not a series of unfortunate events happened in quick succession.

Mabel’s foot caught a stone sticking out of the floor. She shrieked, arms wind milling as she pitched wildly back and forth, attempting to right herself. Dipper turned to try and catch her but he also tripped, losing his footing on a stray battery that had managed to make its way into the chamber. He fell, slamming into his twin.

Mabel was sent reeling backwards, flailing wildly. As she passed, one of her hands managed to smack the Crystal. The Crystal flew upwards, stopped for a moment, and then smacked down between Dipper and Mabel with all the grace of a swan that had just been knocked senseless by a passing plane.

The Crystal’s perfect surface fractured as it hit the ground. The light changed from white to blood red in under a second, and lost its steady thrumming glow in favor of flashing erratically. The sound of waves rose into a piercing shriek at the edge of hearing.

All of the calm and peace the messy-haired boy had been feeling was instantaneously replaced with raw terror. “Dipper!” Mabel screamed over the noise, tears of fear forming in her eyes. “What’s happening!?”

The twelve year-old shielded his face from a piece of rock that fell as the cave started to shake. “I don’t know!” He yelled back, quickly batting away yet another piece of stone that threatened to pierce his eye. Another, stronger tremor hit, knocking the boy and girl off of their knees and into the rocky pedestal the Crystal had been sitting on.

Mabel grasped desperately at her brother’s hand. “I’m scared, Dipper!” the brown-haired girl cried. Dipper looked at her, saw the tears making their way down her cheeks, saw the sheer terror in her eyes and the trembling in her lower lip.

Dipper thought of what his father had said to him at the beginning of the summer.

---xOx---

He had just put the last suitcase in the van and was on his way to join Mabel in the back seat when his father had put a hand on his shoulder and gently steered him back into the house. “Listen, Dipper,” he had said, bending down to look the twelve year-old in the eye. “I want you to promise me something. Your sister, Mabel—she’s a great kid. You know that. But she’s naïve. It takes a lot to get through all of that cheer to what’s underneath, but when stuff does, it hurts. It hurts her badly. You know that too.”

The man looked out the window, prompting Dipper to do the same. They watched Mabel in the car for a minute, playing with a ball made of rubber bands. The boy’s father smiled and adjusted his hat, turning back to Dipper. “I want you to promise me that you’ll take care of your sister, comfort her if something bad happens. Protect her. Can you do that for me, bud?”

---xOx---

Yes. Yes, he could do that.

So instead of cracking some stupid joke about how she was the older twin and that she shouldn’t be scared, he looked her in the eyes. He said, “I’m scared, too.” And he hugged her.

The Crystal rose up into the air, flashing frenetically. The sound increased in both pitch and frequency as the cave rumbled, and then the Crystal folded and then the cave folded and then Mabel and Dipper were gone along with a perfectly spherical section of the cave ten meters in diameter. There was a crack as the air slammed inwards to fill the sudden vacuum.

All was silent.

---xOx---

Pieces of stone, two preteens, an old book, and a brilliantly glowing crystal appeared in midair. The rocks, the children and the book fell, cushioned by a conveniently placed bush. The Crystal stayed suspended for a moment, letting out one final burst of energy that shot out a good twenty miles in every direction, passing through a forest and washing over a small town.

A dull, gray crystal fell to the ground.

---xOx---

“Goodbye everypony!” Twilight called out. Dash was trotting away with Pinkie Pie, Applejack ambled westwards toward Sweet Apple Acres, Rarity cantered in the direction of Carousel Boutique, and Twilight herself was accompanied by Fluttershy as she made her way to the library. Fluttershy’s cottage was on the other side of town from The Lemongrass Meadow, and the library stood in the center. Twilight could’ve teleported Fluttershy back home, but the pink-maned pegasus preferred walking, and the Element of Magic was happy to provide her with company.

“So, Twilight,” Fluttershy spoke, “I-is that new book in yet?”

“Hm?” Twilight shook her head. “Sorry Fluttershy, there was a shipping delay from Fillydelphia. The Guide to Venomous Plants should be in by Wednesday though, so co—”

PAIN

It was so intense that the unicorn didn’t react for a second, stupefied. Then

PAIN

and in unison with every other unicorn in Ponyville Twilight fell to the ground screaming, flailing blindly as her horn was set on fire and pushed backwards through her skull. It was pain on a level she had never before experienced, worse than the piano falling on her, and it hurt oh sweet Celestia it hurt so bad and shejustwantedittoSTOPand

As quickly as the pain had hit it was gone, leaving Twilight laying next to a terrified Fluttershy. The normally quiet pegasus was crying hysterically and screaming her friend’s name, shaking the purple unicorn roughly. “Twilight! Twilight, are you okay!? Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay. . .”

“Owww. . .”

Fluttershy gasped and pulled Twilight into a hug. “Twilight! Oh, thank Celestia!” She pushed the unicorn away, eyes wide and lip trembling. “Twilight, what was that? What the hay was that!?” the pegasus shrilled. “Every unicorn just stopped, and then—and then they—you—” Fluttershy looked downwards, teardrops falling onto the dusty road.

Twilight blinked away the moisture in her eyes, still recovering from the pain. Around her the other unicorns were starting to recover, being helped to their hooves by friends and family. The lavender unicorn looked around. She cleared her throat and summed up her professional opinion in seven simple words.

“Fluttershy, I have absolutely no bucking idea.”

End Part I – The Cave

Part II - The Forest

The Effects of Gravity – Akela Stronghoof

---xOx---

Part II – The Forest

---xOx---

Green.

That was what Dipper saw when he opened his eyes again.

Green. Y’know what’s green?

Leaves.

Y’know what Dipper had a mouthful of?

The boy pushed himself out of the bush and retched out the offending foliage, back arching and fingers digging into the dirt. A wayward caterpillar took a clump of regurgitated plant matter to the face, flailing its tiny legs and flipping end over end into the woody part of the bush. It took a minute, some frantic tongue-rubbing, and three more insect casualties to get the bitter taste off his tongue to the point where Dipper could manage cognition again. Pushing himself up, the twelve year-old dusted off his shorts and looked around, assessing his surroundings. To his right was the bush he had been so unceremoniously dumped into. It was a big, big bush, with leaves not unlike that of a petunia. It was by sheer luck that he had ended up in that one and not, say, the (what appeared to be a) rose bush next to it. If that had been the case, Dipper would have been more concerned with the thorns in his eyes than the leaves in his mouth. To his left was a meadow—no, a clearing, Dipper could easily see the trees on the other side of the low hill—a blanket of rolling grass with patches of bright flowers sewn on. If the ground was a blanket, however, then the sky was a patchwork quilt—sections of brilliant cerulean marbled with bright white clouds, casting light down onto the land. Birds twittered happily, their songs forming a chorus that drifted on the gentle breeze. The delicate scent of honeysuckle hit Dipper’s nose and he took a deep breath, steeling himself.

It was rather obvious what the next order of business was.

“WHAT THE HELL—” and the next few seconds were a mess of screaming and hair pulling that put an end to the peace of the forest and sent the birds scattering. Dipper was experiencing a debilitating rush of fear, adrenaline, and disbelief that was a common side effect to unexpected events involving mysterious glowing crystals and apparent teleportation. In layman’s terms, he was freaking the hell out. Hyperventilation, lip biting and teeth grinding—all quite normal reactions, considering his current situation. After a short while, Dipper ran out of air and had to sit down. This brief respite allowed him to think of a far more important detail than where he was.

“Mabel!” the boy gasped, turning and rising to his feet. He thrust his hands into the fuzzy leaves of the bush and pulled them apart as best he could, peering in. The dark interior of the massive growth was almost impregnable to his sight. The parts he could see were just leaves, leaves, and more leaves. They rippled softly, casting strange shadows on the ground that reminded Dipper of things he’d seen on late-night science fiction movies. A few of the leaves Dipper was holding sprang back into place, obscuring his view—but not before a stray ray of sun flashed pink in the corner of the messy-haired boy’s eye.

Heart pounding in his chest, Dipper forced his way into the bush. It took a few seconds—walking through a tight mass of leaves isn’t easy—but the twelve year-old got to where he had seen the flash of magenta (was magenta a kind of pink? Dipper thought it was). He bent slightly and pushed his hand down into the undergrowth. He felt around a bit, but got nothing. Maybe he was seeing things, he couldn’t be sure that he had actually seen Mabel’s hair band, it could have just as easily been—

“Zzzz. . . I ask of. . . are you. . . zzz. . . master. . .” The words were unconnected and whimsical, yet the voice was unmistakable. Dipper’s head snapped to the side. That was Mabel talking, no doubt about it. A quick step to the right, almost stumbling as the tightly-packed leaves of the bush provided firm resistance. The boy’s hand went down, pushing through the foliage, grasping, searching, and Dipper’s palm came into contact with something soft. A second later—

“uuuuuurgggghhhhahohMYGOSH” and Dipper’s arm was slapped with such force that it sent him reeling backwards, before losing his footing and toppling face first through the leaves and onto the ground. Mabel had, somehow, fallen through the bush instead of into it. She had been asleep, and Dipper had accidentally woken her by patting her head. The brunette was half-sitting, half-flailing about, still groggy and half asleep. Mabel was in the midst of shouting something about some kind of sword and a guy with a spear trying to kill her when her twin crawled over and shook her shoulder.

“Mabel! Mabel, it’s me!” The girl’s exclamations died down and she lifted her arm, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. She yawned deeply, jawbone creaking in protest. Mabel paused, eyes flicking around in confusion, before settling on the one familiar object in her field of vision. There was a sound like a pillow hitting a wall as Mabel catapulted into her brother’s midsection, flinging them both out of the bush and into the bright sunshine of the forest glade. They rolled, slipping slightly the cool grass, and then they were laughing and hugging and crying and they stayed that way for a while.

“Dipper,” Mabel finally spoke, the first conscious words leaving her mouth. “Dipper, where are we? How did we get here?” She was looking around, wide-eyed with wonder, taking in the sights. Mabel was an avid lover of nature, and was prone to spending large amounts of time simply staring at trees, rocks, and the like. She had once spent an entire day poking a broken bees’ nest with a stick and giggling (Dipper thought she might have a problem). This place, with the tall trees, bright sunlight, and myriad birds and animals, must have looked like an Eden to her.

“I. . . don’t know,” Dipper admitted, brow furrowing. He didn’t like not knowing things. “But it definitely has something to do with that thing we found in the cave.

“The glowing rock thingy?” Mabel asked. “But—but—how could something like that do this?”

“That Crystal, yeah,” Dipper sighed. The capital “C” wasn’t intentional—there was just something about the Crystal that made it impossible to not refer to it with proper respect. Dipper got to his feet, holding his hand out to his sister and pulling her up with him. “I can’t even begin to think of how, but—I think that thing teleported us. I mean, does this look like Gravity Falls Forest to you?”

“Nope!” Mabel replied cheerfully. “It’s a lot prettier, and with a lot less dead leaves!” It took her brother a moment to understand the ramifications of Mabel’s statement. Then Dipper whirled around and dashed towards the tree line, skidded to a stop, and confirmed that yes, there were barely any leaves on the ground. That wasn’t the end of it, either—unlike the familiar flowers in the glade, the forest had bright blue flowers he was dead sure he had never seen before.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no no no no no. . . This is really, really, really bad.” Dipper paced back and forth along the forest edge, small clods of dirt kicking up with each step. The preteen girl watched her brother nervously, biting her lower lip.

“Um,” Mabel asked. Dipper kept pacing. “Um, Dipper? Why is that bad?”

Dipper made a noise and stopped. “Alright. Mabel, There’s a lotta dead leaves in Gravity Falls Forest. They’re all over the place, right?”

“Right!” Mabel responded cheerfully, adjusting her bright pink headband.

“So,” Dipper continued. “This place has almost no leaves on the ground. Right?”

“Mmhmm!”

“And—bear with me here, Mabel—it’s not just Gravity Falls Forest that has a bunch of dead leaves covering the ground, is it?” The preteen pointed out.

Mabel shook her head vigorously, the motion sending a wave of brown hair haloing around her head like a curtain. “Nope,” she said, face split with a wide grin that turned into a frown as she continued. “It’s pretty much all of the rest of. . . Oregon. . . uh-oh.”

“Yeah, ‘uh-oh’ is right,” Dipper cried. “We don’t know where we are, we could be hundreds of miles away from the Mystery Shack, we can’t call Grunkle Stan because we don’t have cell phones, and to top it all off,” here Dipper threw his arms up in defeat, “we’re in the middle of the woods! There’s probably wolves here, and, and with our luck Bigfoot will show up and—Mabel? Where are you going?”

The girl had moved at some point during Dipper’s little tirade, and she was currently standing at the point where grass transitioned into the thick undergrowth of the woods. Mabel looked back at her brother and smiled, sunlight glinting off of her braces. “Well, silly, we’re definitely not gonna get back to Grunkle Stan and the Mystery Shack if all we do is stay here and complain! Come on, if we just keep going straight we’re bound to find a town eventually!” And with that Mabel turned and frolicked off between the trees.

That kind of logic led to problems, Dipper knew. After all, they were much more likely to get hurt or attacked by wolves or Bigfoot or (god forbid) even more lost while wandering around the deep dark woods than staying put in a brightly lit clearing. The messy-haired boy knew, however, that trying to explain this to his happy-go-lucky twin would be like trying to draw the attention of a hungry squirrel with a burnt tire—it just wouldn’t work, and he’d end up all the more frustrated. He couldn’t just let her go off on her own (look what happened last time), so there was really only one thing to do.

Rolling his eyes, fear of the forest pushed to the back of his mind and replaced with exasperation, Dipper trotted off after his sister. “Wait for me!”

The sun was lost to view as the two headed into the Everfree Forest.

---xOx---

Rainbow Dash’s wings snapped out, cerulean feathers rippling as her forward momentum halted almost instantly. She seemed to hang in the air for a moment, rainbow mane shining in the sun, before her hooves hit the ground with a muted whump.

“So,” Applejack asked, shifting slightly to look at her friend. “What’d y’see?”

Rainbow Dash rolled her head to the side, wincing as a few vertebrae popped. “Nothing,” the pegasus replied. Turning to her lavender companion, “Whatever it is, Twilight, it’s either small or hiding in the trees. Sorry.” For the past half an hour or so, Dash had flown above the tangled mass of the Everfree Forest. She did this on Twilight’s behest—Princess Celestia’s protégé still remembered the run in with the hydra, and one time getting chased by a giant pony-eating monster was enough. This time, she wanted to know what she was getting into beforehoof. Like the speedster said, however, aerial reconnaissance was useless if whatever had caused that magic pulse was too small to see from the air (such as some kind of magical artifact) or skulking about below the canopy.

Or it could be invisible, some niggling part of Twilight’s mind whispered. It’s Everfree Forest. It would be just like Everfree to make whatever it was invisible. The mage blinked. Where had that come from? Twilight hoped that she wasn’t turning into a cynic. Frowning slightly, the unicorn’s eyes darted over to the trees before focusing back on her polychromatic friend. “That’s okay, Rainbow,” she said. “Thanks for trying.” The lavender pony’s horn glowed, her right-hoof saddlebag unfastening itself. A small, tightly furled scroll floated out to hover a few inches in front of her face. The wax seal in the center was embossed with a golden sun.

Twilight opened the scroll, eyes gliding over the contents therein before clearing her throat and starting to read aloud. This was more for her friends’ benefit; the studious unicorn had memorized the contents of the letter over an hour ago, when she had first received it in a puff of green dragon fire.

“My Most Faithful Student,

I trust that you are already aware of the spike of arcane activity that interrupted the peace earlier today. I am unsure how powerful the pulse was closer to the epicenter of the event, but even here in Canterlot every unicorn felt its effects. My sister and I have decided that investigating this phenomenon is top priority. Take the bearers of the Elements of Harmony and go to Everfree Forest. Find the origin of the pulse and, if necessary, use the power of the Elements to neutralize the threat. A squad of Royal Guards will arrive in one hour.

Be careful.

Princess Celestia Invictus.”

There was a feeling like ice water trickling down her spine. Twilight stared at that last line, the shock of it like being struck by lightning even the fifth time reading it. The Princess never, ever used her full name in letters to the unicorn. It was a thing that just didn’t happen, like Pinkie Pie missing a party, or Fluttershy telling a rude joke, or Rarity wearing an ensemble with both navy blue and black. There was only one reason that Twilight could think of that Celestia would do that—this was serious. Not “who gets tickets to the Grand Galloping Gala” serious, but “somepony could get seriously hurt and spend some major time in a hospital” serious. That, plus the fact that the alicorn was actually sending a squadron of Royal Guards to help them, something that she didn’t even do for an attack by Cerberus, was making some part of Twilight’s brain scream that this was really really really DANGEROUS.

The Princesses didn’t know what had caused the massive magical pulse. They were relying on Twilight—bearer of the Element of Magic, personal student of the Princess of the Day, one of the most magically powerful unicorns since Starswirl the Bearded—to find out what the source was and to defeat it if it proved a threat to the safety of Equestria.

The bearers of the Elements of Harmony were being mobilized in their full capacity as an asset of the Equestrian Empire.

The letter wasn’t an informal communique between loving student and kind mentor.

It was military orders.

Even as that was sinking in (and Twilight was struggling to accept the information that they had been called to active duty and to get over the fact that that DID NOT COMPUTE), Pinkie Pie was shouting for her friends to look and then the six mares were craning their necks and trying to spot the flying transport that heralded the arrival of the Royal Guard squad. No, no, they weren’t just a squad of Royal Guards, the magical prodigy thought, adjusting her mindset. They were their reinforcements. Twilight finally saw what the earth pony had been pointing out, and violet eyes tracked the gradual descent of the pegasus-drawn chariot. This was just another test, another challenge that Celestia thought her protégé was ready for and could overcome.

Twilight Sparkle, Ponyville librarian, klutz, nervous wreck, took a deep, shaky breath.

She could do this.

Twilight Sparkle, bearer of the Element of Magic, personal student of the Princess of the Day, one of the most magically powerful unicorns since Starswirl the Bearded, stepped forward as the gleaming chariot touched down on the grass.

“Twilight Sparkle?” a gravelly voice inquired. There was movement, and then a bulky, gold-armored earth pony jumped down from the back of the chariot. Blue eyes, as hard and sharp as a steel blade, swept over the six mares in front of him (Fluttershy hid behind Rainbow Dash with an ‘Eeep!’), analyzing, calculating, before finally settling on the unicorn in the forefront. “Miss Sparkle,” the massive pony spoke, muscles rippling as he stepped forward and knelt. “Commander Hardwell, at your command, ma’am.”

Sweet Celestia’s horn, he’s huge, was the first thought that wound its way through Twilight’s head. That was quickly pushed aside by the much more important question of what in the hay am I supposed to say to that? Twilight opened her mouth, but no words came out. She closed it again and looked to her left desperately. Rarity turned slightly, caught her eye, cocked an eyebrow, and made a ‘go on’ motion with her right hoof. “Um,” said Twilight Sparkle. “Um, uh, thank you, uh, Commander Hardwell, I’m, uh, happy to, uh. . . command . . .you?.” Rarity smacked her hoof against her forehead.

Hardwell raised an eyebrow and chuckled, standing back up to his full height and by the sun he’s taller than Applejack’s brother. The Royal Guard raised his eyebrows and stared at Celestia’s protégé, who flinched and averted her eyes. The stallion chuckled, gaze softening. “Nervous?” Twilight looked down, biting her lip. “Don’t worry. First op is always the worst. It won’t be that bad, trust me.” Then the commander turned back towards the chariot and, in a voice that shook the trees and made Fluttershy dive for cover, boomed “SOLDIERS! TEN-SHUN!” There was a scramble of activity as the pegasi hurriedly unhooked themselves from their harnesses and two unicorns practically dove out of the chariot. The four stallions hurriedly converged in front of their commander, standing at attention in two lines—pegasi in front, unicorns in back.

“Gentlecolts!” Hardwell rumbled, striding back and forth. “Earlier today, a pulse of magic that came from this Celestia-forsaken forest hit Canterlot. I know it, you know it, and you two back there complained about it like little fillies!” The unicorns in the back had the decency to look rather sheepish. “We have been hoof-picked by Princess Celestia herself to investigate this disturbance, and, if necessary, beat the tar out of whatever caused it! We will be doing this by assisting the Element bearers, who happen to be these six fine mares. If any one of you has a problem with this, speak up now!” The Commander stopped and turned, staring directly at soldiers. The four stallions stayed stoic, moving less than if a cockatrice had caught them, chins upturned. The sun flashed off of their armor, refracted by the curved metal into a thousand little beams of light that made them look like they were glowing. “No? Good! Now, are you ready to do your duty to your country?!”

The reply was unanimous, simultaneous, delivered with alacrity. “Sir yes sir!”

Twilight stared, mesmerized. They were so regal, so disciplined and well trained. Their commander, too—that was a stallion deserving of respect. Rarity, too, was thinking of the Guard commander—but her thoughts were more along the lines of, to put it crassly, what a stud. The soldiers stood tall and proud, infinitely majestic—at least until the appearance of extreme capability was ruined when one of the pegasi—the younger of the two, by his looks—started shaking in a vain attempt to hold back his laughter.

“And what,” Hardwell sighed, his weary tone showing his familiarity with the pegasus’ antics, “is so funny, Storm Runner?”

The pegasus—Storm Runner, Twilight thought—fell silent. Then, like the sun peeking over the horizon, a grin spread across his face. He opened his mouth, and, in choked tones so low that the assembled ponies could barely hear him, managed to say, “. . . you said ‘duty.’” He then keeled over onto his side, wheezing and giggling hysterically even as the pegasus next to him buffeted his head with a wing. One of the unicorns in front sighed and put a hoof to his forehead, while the other had to look away to conceal his own grin.

Commander Hardwell turned to the mares, and in total deadpan said, “He’s an idiot, but he can fly.” He looked like he was about to say something to Storm Runner, but a certain cerulean pegasus beat him to it.

Rainbow Dash had been waiting for a while, and if there’s one thing Rainbow Dash doesn’t like it’s waiting. Some might say, “Waiting is just sitting still. Rainbow Dash lies down and doesn’t move for hours at a time, so why would she have a problem with just waiting?” The answer is simple—they’re totally different. When you’re relaxing, you’re doing it on your own terms. You decide when to start, you decide when you’ve had enough and are going to go do something else. When you were waiting, it was other ponies that determined whether or not you got what you wanted, how long it took, and what you had to do beforehoof. Waiting on lines, waiting for mail, waiting for food—waiting was never fun, no matter where you had to do it or what you were waiting for. Waiting for the Royal Guards to show up so you could go on an adventure to find the source of some weird magical pulse? Not an exception to the rule. Still boring.

Then, the Royal Guards had finally arrived, and Rainbow Dash had thought that her wait was over. They had to go now, right? It wouldn’t do to wait—they were on the Princess’ orders, for pony’s sake! But no. No, first they had to have a speech, and then the pegasus on the right had to crack a joke and have a giggle fit and even though it was actually pretty funny that wasn’t the point and they still weren’t moving.

“Excuse me!” the pegasus shouted, wings extended, a few strands of rainbow mane stirring in the breeze. All eyes turned to Rainbow Dash. “Can we—gee, I dunno—actually do what we came here for?”

“Rainbow Dash—” Rarity and Applejack started in unison, ready to rebuke the speedster for her lack of manners.

“No, she’s right,” Hardwell said. The cowpony and the fashionista turned to the soldier, incredulous. “We’ve wasted enough time fooling around.” By now, Storm Runner had stopped laughing and was once again standing at attention. “Let’s move out. Fillies? In the middle, if you please.” There was some grumbling from Rainbow Dash (I’m a grown mare, I can take care of myself) and some swooning from Rarity (my, how chivalrous!) but then they were ready to go, Twilight standing beside Commander Hardwell.

“Are you ready?” Hardwell rumbled, looking down at the unicorn by his side. Twilight glanced at her friends. They stood there, looking right back at her. Rarity caught Twilight’s eye, and the white unicorn nodded slightly. Applejack and Rainbow Dash both had small, confident smiles, though the pegasus’ was more like a smirk. Pinkie Pie was bouncing slightly, an uncharacteristically serious look on her face, and Fluttershy had even stopped shaking.

The lavender unicorn felt a sudden swell of pride and affection. Her friends were willing to brave the unknown for her. Even though the command to go into the Everfree Forest wasn’t compulsory (Princess Celestia would never force anypony to go somewhere dangerous against their will), Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, hay, even Fluttershy was ready to follow her into one of the most deadly places in Equestria. Honesty, Generosity, Loyalty, Laughter, Kindness—Twilight couldn’t ask for a better group of friends.

“Yes,” Twilight said, turning back to the Commander. “Yes. We’re ready.”

The sun was lost to view as the ten headed into the Everfree Forest.

---xOx---

Mabel hummed a tune as she padded across the log, arms outstretched to help her keep her balance. Behind her, back on the ground, Dipper gulped as he looked down towards the rushing water. “Mabel,” he enunciated carefully, “I still think it’s not a good idea to try to cross on a log. What if—what if it’s rotted, or hollow or something? You could fall, and—and—”

“And what,” Mabel called back. “Get my shoes wet?” The twelve year-old boy looked at the stream, which was, indeed, only about an inch and a half deep. A frog hopped in and sat, underside touching the bottom and head above the water. “Geez, Dipper, you really need to relax.”

Dipper sighed and gave himself a mental slap. Mabel was right, as much as it pained him to say. He really did need to relax. Even though they were god knows where, that didn’t justify Dipper being scared of every single little thing. Cautious, yes, but not in full-on freak out mode. So, the next thing Dipper did was climb on to the log himself. He took one step, then another, and another. Huh. Mabel made a good choice in river crossing points; the log stayed steady. The brunette was already off at the other end of the riverbank (streambank?), calling for her brother to hurry up, that slowpoke. Dipper shuffled forward another few feet, got to just before the middle of the log, and—

Crack.

Uh-oh.

The next think Dipper knew, he was sitting in the stream, feeling the cool water pass through the seat of his pants like sand through a sieve and hearing Mabel’s hysterical laughing. The two halves of the log sat on either side of him, slowly turning as the slow current tugged on the ends. The messy-haired boy scowled, pushing himself up as the water flooded his shoes. Dipper squished back to shore, grumbling all the way. Stupid lousy logs.

Mabel was still laughing as Dipper reached her. “Hey, hey Dipper! Guess what? I guess you need to learn to go with the flow!” The preteen girl fell into a new round of laughter as her twin shook himself, trying to dry his soaked clothing.

“Shut up,” Dipper said as they kept walking.

“Hey Dipper, is your favorite season fall?”

“Shut up,” Dipper suggested.

“Y’know, I wood have helped you, but I was too far away!”

“Shut up shut up shut up.”

Five minutes and too many wood and water-themed puns to count later, the twins had gotten out of sight of the river. The trees were thicker here; only a small amount of light filtered down between the leaves. Shadows moved silently across the ground, forming strange shapes, breaking apart and finding new partners to continue their mysterious dance. It really was beautiful, Dipper thought. Unlike the forests on the Oregonian mountains, these felt. . . clean. The difference between a nature preserve and the deep rainforest. The boy breathed in deeply. Dipper could get used to this—the peace, the feeling of calm, the holy crap what was that noise.

Bothe of the twins froze. The cracking sound had come from behind them. Slowly, carefully, dreading what he might find, Dipper turned around. There, standing nine feet tall, acid dripping from massive fangs, muscles rippling and eyes glowing, was. . .nothing. That was just his imagination. The messy-haired boy relaxed and adjusted his hat—all there was were a few dead bushes, wood gnarled and twisted. Dipper breathed a sigh of relief. Of course there wasn’t a monster, even though he complained a lot he wasn’t actually that unlucky—

And then the bushes opened glowing green eyes and started growling, so so much for that.

Dipper said something he had once gotten punished for saying and grabbed Mabel’s wrist. She was staring wide-eyed at the living bushes as they twisted themselves into facsimiles of wolves. “Mabel,” Dipper hissed, eyes locked on the beasts. “Run.” They turned and ran. As they moved, the bush-wolf things howled, a high, piercing noise that resonated in the twin’s bones. Dipper risked a look back—saw the creatures loping after them—screamed like a little girl, and kept running.

---xOx---

Twilight stopped, ears twitching. Noticing this, Hardwell made a slashing motion with his hoof. The rest of the group came to a halt. There was silence for a moment, as the assembled ponies ceased their movement. Then, in the distance, they heard what sounded like a scream, rising in volume. Twilight bit her lip. “It sounds like somepony’s coming this way,” she said, turning to the larger stallion. “Should we—”

“Well, let’s go help them!” Rainbow Dash declared loudly. “I mean, it sounds like they’re in trouble!” She jumped up, wings extending—and Applejack, who was next to her, bit down on a tuft of rainbow tail and yanked the cerulean pegasus back onto the forest floor. “Applejack!” Rainbow cried, wings folding back to her sides. “Why’d you do tha—”

“Because, Miss Dash,” Hardwell whispered harshly, “That may not be the best idea. We don’t know who that is, if it even is a who. It could easily be the cause of the magic pulse, and dangerous to boot. Stallions,” the earth pony ordered, “Phalanx positions.” The Royal Guards sprang into action, forming a large, even pentagon around the six mares. “Hold.”

They stayed perfectly still and silent, listening to the screams. It was high pitched, and—wait, no, that’s two voices, Twilight thought. Why would there be two? The screams grew louder and louder—Hardwell and his stallions braced themselves—and two blurs shot out of the bushes, between one of the gaps in the pentagon, and one of them slammed directly into Twilight Sparkle, sending them tumbling end over end. Every pony present whipped around, looking at Twilight and the—thing—on top of her.

Twilight blinked, staring directly into Dipper’s eyes.

And their voices rose in unison, a wordless scream that shook all of Everfree Forest.

Author's Note

I don't think I've ever written anything this long, this fast.

Part III - The Dungeon

The Effects of Gravity – Akela Stronghoof

---xOx---

Part III – The Dungeon

---xOx---

Twilight bit her lip, a bead of sweat soaking into the fur around her muzzle. She was shaking with excitement, bouncing slightly, looking for all the word like a little filly waiting for a brand new toy. Twilight leaned forward, horn tapping against the magically polarized glass. Inside were the twin focuses of her attention—the things that they had ran into in the forest. Pale, hairless, soft, a bit larger than the average pony, and apparently wearing actual clothing—a conundrum. Why would these things—whatever they were—be in the Everfree Forest? Well, actually, that wasn’t that hard a question to answer, given that Everfree was basically where all the weird stuff cropped up. The real mystery was figuring out why they hadn’t seen anything like them before.

They were obviously intelligent enough to figure out tools, because their clothing looked made for creatures of their—peculiar—dimensions. They look kind of like Diamond Dogs, actually, Twilight mused. Maybe some sort of evolutionary offshoot? Filing that hypothesis away for later, she continued to brainstorm. They didn’t look like predators—no claws, no natural armor. Prey animal? No, no, couldn’t be prey, if they’re advanced enough to make clothing they’re obviously advanced enough to have a primitive sort of society. Why hadn’t they made contact with ponies before?

Twilight was in the midst of making plans to tunnel under Everfree—they had pale skin, so there was a possibility of an underground city—when a large white wing draped itself over her back. Twilight jumped, and then made a noise like letting air out of a balloon when she realized just who was there. Standing beside her was her teacher, friend, mentor and monarch, Princess Celestia. Twilight hurriedly bowed, horn almost scraping against the floor. “P-Princess Celestia! I’m sorry, i-if I had known you were coming I would have—”

Celestia’s chuckle was warm and gentle. “It’s quite alright, Twilight. I came down here to see you, not because I had planned on it.” The alicorn shook her magnificent wings, feathers rearranging themselves into perfection before she folded the appendages back to her sides. “How are the subjects?” she continued, glancing towards the things behind the glass.

“Um,” Twilight began, the fur on her cheeks turning a darker shade of purple. “Um, well, uh, they’re still unconscious,” the unicorn said, tapping the floor with her hoof. Teacher and student looked through the glass where the things were, indeed, unconscious. The one with the long fur on its head had the other one’s thumb (Twilight recognized the structure now; these things had hands, similar to those of a minotaur) in its mouth.

“Yes, I read the preliminary reports,” Celestia said, turning slightly to face the lavender pony and cocking an eyebrow. “Quite an impressive feat of magic.”

Twilight’s blush deepened. Right after the thing had landed on her and they had started screaming, a large timberwolf had loped through the same bush and straight at Twilight, growling all the way. Poor Twilight’s beleaguered mind had done three things in quick succession:

One: established enough bladder control to prevent the terrified pony from wetting herself.

Two: kicked the thing on top of her in the stomach, hard, sending him flying back first into a tree.

Three: sent out a wave of magic so potent that it knocked ever single living thing in a fifty foot radius unconscious and completely dismantled the wooden canine.

When she stood up and realized what had happened, Twilight had gone around and woken everypony up with small, controlled bursts of magic. She had carefully avoided the two strange creatures, opting instead to let guards deal with them and provide magical assistance if needed. Fluttershy was the first one to investigate the two things, gently prodding at them with a hoof before shakily declaring that she had never seen anything like them before. After the resident animal expert had backed off, the two unicorn Guards and Twilight moved in to scan and identify everything that could be feasibly scanned or identified. They had quickly discovered that the two had a magical signature that matched that of the unexplained pulse, but only traces. As if they had been in contact with whatever caused it, but in and of themselves were not the culprits.

When the three unicorns had discovered that they were wearing actual clothing, and not just some kind of weird coat of fur, Storm Runner had made a comment about “bringing them to Twilight’s house, waking them up, and befriending them and then bringing them to meet the Princesses.” Commander Hardwell had immediately ripped into him for having the gall to suggest such an insipid idea. No. Doing that was stupid. Bringing an unknown, intelligent species with unknown capabilities into the middle of an undefended population center, trying to become friends with it, and then presenting it to the ruler of your country was stupidity on par with trotting up to a dragon, looking it in the eye, insulting its mother and then telling it to give you its best shot.

No, the smart thing to do, the logical thing to do, the thing to do if you weren’t a complete and utter imbecile, would be to guard the bodies and immediately call for backup. Having received a regiment of elite troops and an aerial escort, they would then lock them in a heavily warded quadruple-locked cage and fly them to Canterlot. Once there, they would put them in the deepest cell in the Royal Palace, which would be guarded twenty four hours a day by six different rotations of guards in order to minimize the risk of any thought-influencing effects (Shining Armor had learned his lesson after the debacle with the Changelings). They would be heavily tested and examined by the Canterlot Magical Research Society, and if they proved non-threatening to the Equestrian nation, then and only then would they be allowed to walk freely.

So they did that, and here they were. They had proven to have only the innate magic that supported all living beings and apparently had no form of claws or fangs, and were therefore marked non-dangerous (though it still raised the question of what the buck was that magical pulse), so Twilight was waiting for them to wake up so she could conduct her interroga—interview.

For science.

---xOx---

“It’s not fair!” Rainbow Dash flopped back onto the couch, waving a hoof about indiscriminately as she spoke. “I mean, c’mon! We were there when they found the things, why the hay can’t we be there with Twilight!?”

Behind her, Rarity sighed, her horn glowing light blue as she stitched a rose pattern into a sock. “We’ve been over this before, darling. Twilight is the personal student of Princess Celestia, and a certified genius. She’s really the only one of us qualified to be a part of the research, let alone to actually talk to those things.” She sighed again, resting her chin on her hoof. “Though I do wish I could examine that marvelous clothing. Did you see those cross stitches? So perfect! Why, if I could get my sewing machine to work like that, I’d. . .”

As Rarity launched headlong into her fantasies of fashion and profits, Applejack spoke up. “She’s right, ya know. If we tried ta help out down there, we’d just end up getting’ in th’ way.”

Dash made a noise between a growl and a sigh. Light played over her wings as she stretched them out to their full length, butting up against the plush pillows. “I know, it’s just—” She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Her voice lost its usual bravado as she continued. “It’s just—I’m concerned. I mean, Twilight’s one of our best friends, and I know she’s super smart, and I know she’s super magically powerful. But still, it just doesn’t feel right leaving her alone with those things, y’know? Everything we’ve been through we’ve been through it together. All you guys came to the Junior Flier’s competition to cheer me on, we all went on the dragon migration to help Spike, hay, we even fought the Changelings together. Now, we can’t be there to have her back and— it’s bugging me.”

This was a one of those rare moments—where the barriers of foolhardiness and bravery Rainbow had put up crumbled down, and the pegasus showed her real feelings. Deep down, Rainbow Dash was quite empathetic (and a bit of a geek, but she’d never admit that to anypony), and during moments such as these her friends could gain insight into what was going on in the pegasus’ mind.

Pinkie Pie smiled, bouncing over to the couch and laying a hoof on Rainbow Dash’s shoulder. “Rainbow Dash,” Pinkie bubbled, “Twilight will be fine. She’s really strong and smart, and she knows how to deal with this kind of stuff. Even if anything happens, the room is just down the hall and we can be over there in a jiffy.”

“I know that,” Rainbow growled, “But that doesn’t change the fact that those things could be dangerous! Even if it only takes a minute to get there, a lot can happen in a minute.” Rainbow Dash jumped off the couch and turned to Pinkie, eyes narrowing. “We don’t know if they ‘re friendly or not!” Rainbow snarled, moisture prickling in the corners of her eyes. “They could be evil, or crazy, they could attack her, Twilight could end up—Twilight could be—”

A pale-yellow hoof came to rest lightly on her haunch. Rose-colored eyes flickered over to Fluttershy; Rainbow hadn’t even heard the quiet mare approach. “Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy murmured. “It’ll be okay. Relax.”

It was an odd reversal, Fluttershy of all ponies tellingher to calm down, but it worked. Rainbow let out a shaky breath and tucked her wings; she’d extended them when she’d advanced on Pinkie, some ancient instinct making her puff up in anger. It dawned on Dash that the room was almost completely silent now, save for the gentle sound of breathing. Everypony’s eyes were on her; Applejack and Rarity had both stopped what they were doing, entranced by the conflict. Rarity’s needle continued to sew, a haphazard red line winding its way across the surface of the tube sock. Rainbow shut her eyes tightly and bit her lip. “You’re right,” she breathed. Turning back to her earth pony friend, “Pinkie—I—I didn’t mean to—”

Pinkie Pie giggled, waving a hoof in a dismissive gesture “Don’t worry about it, Dashie,” the mare laughed. “You were just worried about a friend. I forgive you!” Pinkie punctuated this statement by launching herself at the pegasus, knocking Rainbow Dash down with the force of her hug.

“Oof! Pinkie—ack—can’t breathe—”

The tension in the room dispersed instantly at the twosome’s antics. Applejack laughed, adjusting her hind legs. “Consarnit Pinkie! Yer gonna choke the poor filly!”

“Never! She’s mine!” Pinkie cried dramatically, squeezing Dash even tighter.

The room dissolved into laughter, with the exception of Rarity letting out a wail when she realized how badly she’d messed up her socks.

---xOx---

Twilight took a sip of coffee and let out an involuntary yawn, clamping her muzzle shut instantly so as to not let the offending sound go. If she let herself yawn once, it would make her even more tired, and she would yawn even more, and so on in a vicious cycle until she fell asleep and then she wouldn’t be the first one to talk to them and somepony else would write a paper on them and get it published, and it would become famous and she’d live the rest of her life knowing that she had been so close and eventually she’d despair so much that Princess Celestia would ban her from magic for being too much of a buzz kill and she’d end up living alone on the outskirts of Hoofington with three hundred cats—

Twilight really should not be allowed to have caffeine.

The day had been long, however, and Twilight couldn’t think of an alternative to stay awake. She sighed and leaned forward, bloodshot, drooping eyes taking a few seconds to focus on the creatures in the cell. They were still unconscious, as they had been for the last six hours. Celestia had chatted with her student for about half an hour, before apologizing and leaving to “attend to royal business.” She had requested one of the guards to notify her or her sister when they woke, but so far there’d been no sign of the mystery creatures waking up.

Just how much magic had Twilight put into that spell? The unicorn was starting to get nervous, actually. What if these things were overly-susceptible to magic, and she hadn’t just put them to sleep, but given them permanent brain damage? What if they never woke up, and they just stayed that way till they died, and that started a war with wherever these things had come from, and Princess Celestia tried to give them Twilight as compensation but they invaded Equestria anyway and a thousand years from now Twilight was only known as “That Extremely Stupid Unicorn Who Started The War That Ruined Equestria” and—

Wait, never mind, it looked like they were waking up now.

Exhaustion forgotten, Twilight channeled Pinkie Pie as she bounced towards the containment cell. The guards moved aside, one of them heading out to talk to Princess Luna. Twilight waited, shifting excitedly as the iron door unlocked. This was going to be great.

---xOx---

Dipper woke to darkness. His eyes took a second to adjust, and then he saw that no, it wasn’t darkness, just bad lighting. He was in a chamber of some sort, the walls made of some glossy material. On one side of the room was a metal door, and for some reason his stomach hurt a lot and his thumb was really warm oh god.

Dipper yanked his hand away from Mabel’s mouth, sticking his tongue out in disgust and wiping the digit on his pants. He struggled for a second, mind racing. This wasn’t the Mystery Shack; what the heck was going on, where were they—and then the memories hit.

That damned cave—crystal, red light—mouthful of leaves—river—unholy abomination of wood and terror with a screeching howl that sounded like someone had stuffed Sebastian Bach into a meat grinder—tiny, brightly colored horses—and Dipper started hyperventilating, all of the stress of the day slamming into him with the force of a freight train. He took a second to calm himself down (it took less time than he expected; Dipper must have been getting used to weird stuff happening all the time) and then grabbed Mabel’s shoulder, shaking her violently. “Mabel!” he hissed, “Come on! Mabel, wake up!”

“Shinji. . . Mustn’t run. . . Zzz. . .” Mabel was clearly not about to wake up.

Dipper said something bad, then stood up.

Then the door opened.

---xOx---

Twilight shot forward a few feet, stopping right inside the door. She stared excitedly at the standing thing, before launching into a stream of questions and shouting. “Hi! I’m Twilight Sparkle. Um, I’m sorry for bucking you in the stomach earlier, it was an accident and I freaked out. What are you? What were you doing in Everfree? Do you live there? Are you a subterranean species? Can you use magic? How old are you? What’s the average life span of your species? Are you male or female, or are you a hermaphroditic species? Are you two related?” Twilight stopped, waiting for a response.

The thing said something that was definitely not Equestrian.

“Uh-oh.”

Author's Note

Figured it was better to put out a shorter chapter quickly than to force you guys to wait for one that would just be a couple thousand words longer.