Hopefyre

Walt sat on the roof of a building that provided a perfect view of the Manhattan skyline and Central Park, as lifeless and grey as both were. His grappling equipment and his swords were still on him, along with a skinny, lantern-like flashlight that hung from his belt.

As he ate a boiled potato, he watched as Tracy applied tweaks to a large solar panel with a wrench. One of Walt’s few pleasures in his world besides tending to his garden and reading old books was watching Tracy work.

Knowing how good she was at building and fixing things, there was a certain flair to her work that Walt couldn’t help but find engrossing. As she applied the final turns of the wrench, she signaled her completion with a long wipe of her brow. Walt stood back up, ready to assist Tracy down when needed.

“You know,” she said with an exhausted grin, “you should really just put your solar panels in just one place.”

“As convenient as that would be,” said Walt, “I can’t let anyone connect my solar panels to my garden. I can’t even begin to fathom what would happen to it if Dada and his men came across it. It’s best that I set them around the city and throw him off my trail.

“Best part is, Dada won’t dare touch any of them.”

“And how’s that, exactly?” asked Tracy.

“If Dada sees that there’s a place with solar panels, that means that there’s power, and if there’s power, that’s just another thing he needs, and if his men destroy the panels, they destroy the power and no one gets it, not even him.”

“Well, aren’t you just the smart cookie!” she replied in an overly-exaggerated motherly voice.

“I try.”

“Well, I think it’s time I’d be off.”

“Thank you again, Tracy. Your payment is at the foot of the stairs.”

Tracy went into the entrance to the stairwell and descended with Walt following close behind. Once they finally got down, Tracy saw a crate filled with bread and four large jars of a red, thin liquid.

“You mind telling me what that is?” asked Tracy.

“This is vegetable broth,” he answered. “Just finished fermenting today. Before the Contagion, my mother would sell this at our local farmers market. Needless to say, we sold a lot of it and often. Also, there’s some bread to go with it.”

“Wow,” she said, at a loss for words for the complexity of his gift, “this is… awesome.”

“I felt bad just giving you the usual potatoes and corn to you last time you came with the swords and  grappling system. I knew I had to make it up to you.”

Tracy gave Walt a heartfelt smile as she bent over a put the crate in her hands. She then walked outside and to her truck loading it in the back. Before she left Walt again, she did something that surprised even Walt: she wrapped her arms over his shoulder for a hug.

“Thanks, Walt,” she said. “I really don’t know how I’d survive in this world without you.”

“Please,” said Walt, patting her back, “I’m sure you’d find someone better.”

Letting go, she walked backwards and gave him a smirk.

“Doubt it,” she replied.

Feeling the truck behind her, she opened the door and entered, putting the keys in the ignition and turning them, bringing the car to life. Walt watched as she sped out of the alley with his mother’s broth in tow. With the panel fixed, he could now retire back home.

Walking out onto the sidewalk along the street, he found the entrance to the subway, power walking to it and taking the stairs downwards. The subway tunnels were always dark, being one of the many places in the city where power was cut. However, for anyone with a working flashlight, the tunnels provided a perfect way to travel around the city without being caught by Dada’s men above.

Walt took the cylindrical flashlight that was strapped to his belt and shone it through the subway terminals. Walt hopped the gates and continued descending downwards. Finally, he found the tracks, hopping down onto them and walked into the tunnels. With his light as his only illumination, as bright as the light was, he was still heavily uneasy about the possibility that one of Dada’s men were lurking about here in the off chance that they did come across a survivor.

However, Walt knew that he only had a couple of stations to walk before he’d reach his home, and with the extensiveness of the subway system in Manhattan, the chances of coming across Dada and his men were slim to none.

Continuing on his path, he heard a small noise coming from the front. Shining his light out, he spotted something that made him gasp with shock: a white rabbit that scavenged the ground for crumbs of food. Walt had not seen an animal like this for years, and he knew that it would provide a hearty meal if caught and killed.

Pulling his grappling hook off, the clicking sound from the detachment of the magnet alerted the rabbit to Walt’s presence. Seeing the human before it, the rabbit made a terrified face and bounded to the wall. Walt followed the rabbit with his flashlight, where it ran to a sizable hole in the side of the tunnel. Walt quickly made chase, following the rabbit inside the new passage.

With the rabbit’s white coat, the light shone on it beautifully, providing a beacon for Walt to follow. Walt then saw as the rabbit made it to an elevation inside the cave, where it bounded out of the exit where a faint light in the darkness shone out of it. Walt climbed the elevation and crawled out of the exit, his gear just being able to fit through. Standing up to give chase again, his surroundings froze him in his tracks.

He was in a forest, and this was not like the forest in Central Park, in fact, quite the opposite. While the trees in Central Park were dead and lifeless, the forest he found himself in was humid and very much full of life. However, the thick flora made sunlight impassible through the leaves and vines, forcing Walt to put his flashlight back on and observe his surroundings.

“Just…” he muttered, still completely taken aback by the change in scenery. “Just what is this place?”

His musing was short lived, as he heard a roar and a scream ring through the trees.

“Help!” the childlike-female voice sounded. “Somepony help!”

“A survivor?” asked Walt to himself, unsheathing his sword. “I have to help her.”

Walt ran through the trees, hurdling over vines and roots that obstructed his path. The roaring and pleas for help got louder, giving Walt hope that he’d make it. Another scream from the child sounded, and from the volume of the scream, it was as if it were in front of him.

Suddenly, a small, yellow-colored pony with a brushed red mane and large pink bow appeared in Walt’s path. Surprised by the appearance of the creature, Walt skidded to a halt just inches from the pony’s hooves, his noises causing her to stop in her tracks. They both looked at each other with wonder and confusion, but the roar that chased whoever was in the woods came barreling towards the two.

Appearing from the bushes and ivy, was a creature that made the filly scream with terror and make Walt weak at the knees with fright. It appeared to be a lion with bat-wings and a scorpion’s tail. Walt’s appearance to the creature made it stop in its tracks, but it didn’t stop Walt’s fear of it.

“Is that a…” he whimpered. “Is that a manticore?”

Feeling a shaking at his ankles, he looked down to see the filly curled up in a ball, trembling behind his calves. Walt knew he couldn’t let the manticore hurt it, so he dropped his flashlight, widened his stance, and held his sword with both hands, ready to defend himself and the pony.

The manticore growled, only increasing the drive in Walt’s protection. The manticore lifted its large paw and prepared to swipe at Walt. However, Walt took the opportunity to exploit the manticore’s exposed spot. Time for Walt began to slow, watching as the paw of the manticore slowly tried to hit its target. Before it could have the chance, Walt lunged at the creature and drove the sword straight into the heart of the manticore.

The manticore toppled over with a painful roar as Walt twisted the blade, seeping blood all over the creature’s coat. With a few more twists, the manticore laid still and lifeless as Walt’s perception of the world around him returned to normal. Walt slid off the lifeless manticore’s body and sat on the ground, using the corpse for support.

Walt began feeling sick once again, but being only a small use of his power, he held in his urge to throw up. As he came to, the yellow filly slowly approached Walt. Walt got a better look at her now. Even while sitting, she stood at about half a foot below his current height.

“It’s okay,” he weakly cooed, “you can run along now. You’re safe.”

The filly’s expression turned to one of surprise, confusing Walt. Then, she cocked her head to the side and addressed him in English.

“What in the hay even are you?” she asked with a southern drawl.

Walt’s eyes widened in fear again, unsure by what the meaning of this was.

“Did…” he stammered. “Did you just talk?”

“Well, of course I did! I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Walt was speechless. He had not seen a live pony in years, yet alone one of her color and one that could talk. He tried to respond to her, but words failed to escape his lips.

“What’s the matter with you?” the filly persisted. “You act as if you’ve never seen a pony before!”

“Not one that could talk!” shouted Walt, still overcome with shock and confusion.

“Ponies don’t talk where you come from? Now ain’t that odd? Oh yeah! I almost forgot. I’m Apple Bloom. Thanks for saving me from that monster.”

At this point, the pony named Apple Bloom walked up to Walt and presented her hoof to him expecting a handshake. Still somewhat frazzled, Walt grabbed the pony’s hoof and shook it.

“I’m…” he said, winded. “I’m Walt. Walt Warland.”

“Walt Warland?” she asked, slipping her hoof out of his hand. “That’s a funny name, mister.”

“Likewise,” he said. “By the way, do you have any idea where I am?”

“You’re in the Everfree Forest.”

“What are you even doing out here?”

“I was stopping by my friend’s place.”

“What kind of friend lives out in the woods filled with manticores?”

“My friend Zecora, that’s who. Come on, let’s go!”

The filly walked away from Walt and the manticore and continued on her way. Walt wanted nothing more than to find a way out of the woods and back to his home, but if this Zecora could provide some more answers as to where he was, his hands were tied. Standing up, he slipped his sword back into his sheath and grabbed his flashlight from the ground, following Apple Bloom to Zecora’s.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

“Come on, slowpoke!” called Apple Bloom. “We’re almost there!”

“Forgive me if I’m new around these parts,” retorted Walt.

“Hehehe,” she giggled. “You’re funny, Walt Warland.”

“Uh, please, just call me Walt.”

The two continued trekking into the thick forest until they came across a light-brown tree. What impressed Walt was that there was a door in the center of it with two misshapen holes on both sides for windows. Also, there were several bottles hung from the branches along with a shaman mask planted in the ground by the door along with one above the door.

“We’re here!” exclaimed Apple Bloom.

“This is Zecora’s?” asked Walt, still marveling over the fact that this… Zecora’s home was inside of a tree.

“Mmhm! Now come on, I bet she’ll get a kick out of you.”

Apple Bloom galloped to the front door and knocked with her front hooves. Wanting to meet Zecora as quickly as possible, he jogged up to the door, awaiting whomever or whatever was on the other side. Sure enough, the door opened up, revealing a zebra.

Her mane was styled in a mohawk, she had gold bands wrapped around her neck and left arm, as well as a pair of large hooped gold earrings on each ear. She had a symbol on her flank that resembled a tribal drawing of a sun. On all fours, minus her hair, the zebra was as tall as the center of Walt’s chest.

“Apple Bloom,” she spoke, her voice thick and deep, “I bid you good-day, what brings you to…”

Zecora’s words were cut off by her shock and surprise over the bipedal alien creature alongside Apple Bloom. Despite the alarm he must have caused (and the alarm she caused in him), Walt coyly waved his fingers in an effort to ease the tension.

“…what the hay?” Zecora finished.

“Zecora!” shouted Apple Bloom in excitement. “This is my new friend, Walt. He’s a…” she began pondering. “What are you?”

“I’m a species known as a human,” he answered for her.

“He’s a human!” resumed Apple Bloom. “He saved me from a manticore just a while ago!”

“A manticore, dear? I hope you’re alright. That creature must have given you quite a fright.”

“A little, but then he just came out of the woods and he killed it!”

“Killed the manticore? By my ancestor’s mane! Those who face the manticore must be completely insane!”

“To be honest,” spoke Walt, “it was either it or us. I assume that Apple Bloom is a dear friend of yours and I just wanted to protect her.”

Zecora squinted at Walt on various spots of his, namely his swords and his grappling equipment.

“Well, then Walt,” chanted Zecora, “I suppose you are fine. Any friend of Apple Bloom’s is a friend of mine.”

“Do you… mind if we come in?” asked Walt.

“Oh, please do, I insist,” she said, stepping aside for them to enter. “There isn’t a moment to be missed. Sit where you please, it’s fine by me. In the meantime, I’ll make you dears some tea.”

Walt stopped dead in his tracks.

“Did you just say…” he gasped, “tea?”

“What’s wrong?” asked Apple Bloom. “Do you not like tea?”

“No! No. On the contrary, I’d love some. It’s just where I’m from, it’s extremely rare.”

“Tea, rare?” Zecora questioned. “That’s crazy, and then some. I think you’ll have to tell us both where you’re from.”

“Does she always rhyme like that?” whispered Walt into Apple Bloom’s ear.

“Yes,” spoke Apple Bloom in a normal voice. “Does it bother you?”

“I’m sorry, you two,” Zecora interrupted, “but what bothers you?”

“Nothing,” answered Walt, waving his hands innocently.

“Yeah,” spoke Apple Bloom. “So tell us, Walt, where are y’all from?”

“I’m…” Walt thought aloud, trying to put together a credible answer. “I’m from New York? Manhattan?”

“Manehattan? My cuz lives over there!”

“Manehattan? I said Manhattan. In fact, let me ask. Where exactly is this Everfree Forest? What land, country, world, whatever, just where am I.”

“Why, you’re in Equestria.”

“Eq… Equestria?”

Walt slumped down into an indian-sitting position, placing his fists upon his face for support.

“Walt?” asked Apple Bloom. “Are you alright?”

“Well,” explained Walt. “If that’s the case, I might as well just tell you what I’m thinking.”

“Tell us what, my dear friend Walt?” spoke Zecora. “Do you fear we’ll take your words with a grain of salt?”

Walt, smiled slightly, both from the draining of his sanity and the use of his name in a rhyme, but explained anyways.

“I believe you and I come from different worlds.”

Apple Bloom’s eyes went wide as her jaw went down, while Zecora calmly pondered the hypothesis.

“You see, I come from a city called New York City, in the state of New York, which is in the United States of America, which is on a planet called Earth. If this is ringing any bells, go ahead and tell me.”

Zecora nodded, feeling that Walt’s words were true and his hypothesis was founded in reality.

“I can safely say that you speak the truth.  Your clothes and your body look rather uncouth.”

Walt looked down at the slight drips of blood on his jacket from the manticore attack as well as his haggard appearance.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a terrible story really.”

“Terrible, you say?” queried Zecora. “Apple Bloom?”

“I think I’ll be okay!” she answered.

Zecora smiled at Apple Bloom’s finishing of the rhyme, but her face suddenly changed to that of remembering something forgotten.

“Oh, dear!” she shouted, running to a pair of cups on her counter. “The tea! I completely forgot, can you forgive me?”

“Yeah,” answered Walt, “don’t worry about it. Really.”

“Thank you, Walt,” she said as she carried her and Walt’s tea to them on a tray balanced on her head, “you are far too kind. I hope more of your species share your mind.”

Walt, knowing the full well the capabilities and vices of humans Walt took his tea off the tray and took and inhale, smelling the sweet aroma of lavender, vanilla, and mint. Taking a sip, he nearly burst into tears. After years of drinking filthy, warm water, to have something as tasty as Zecora’s tea was heaven in his mouth.

“That’s delicious,” he said, sniffling a little.

“I thank you, Walt, it’s my special blend,” explained Zecora, “but why you don’t have tea I still can’t comprehend.”

“Perhaps I should start at the beginning,” spoke Walt. “When I was–”

Just then, there was a knock at the door, leading Zecora to answer it.

“Zecora,” questioned Walt. “What are you–”

“It’s my friend, Twilight,” she said. “Don’t worry yourself, she won’t bite. In fact, with somepony as smart as her, she’d love to meet you. Do you concur?”

“Sure,” spoke Walt, “I guess.”

“She was set to meet me this afternoon, so you’ll now meet her very soon.”

Without a second word, Zecora opened the door, revealing a lavender-colored alicorn. Walt, having just gotten used to talking ponies in general, was completely unprepared for the winged unicorn standing in front of him. Her mane and tail were styled in Hime cut, being dark purple with a streak of light-purple and magenta going down the center. She had a mark on her flank of a magenta six-pronged star with five white, smaller, identical stars shining around it in various places.

For Walt, he no longer found himself in a world where ponies were an intelligent species, but that creatures of myth and legend existed here as well.

“Hey Zecora,” spoke Twilight acknowledging her friend, “who were you talking tooooWWAAAAAHH!!!”

Upon seeing Walt, she could not contain her shock. Seeing her reaction, Walt, as he did with Zecora, gave her a shy wave.

“Zecora!” shouted Twilight. “What in the wide, wide world of Equus is that thing?”

“His name is Walt,” replied Apple Bloom. “He’s a hooman from a place called Earth.”

Twilight, surprised over Walt’s existence, stared at him, who only stared right back. In both of their eyes, there was a desire to learn about each other. It was the first time a mythological creature had seen a human and vice versa. With the silence becoming awkward enough, Walt spoke back to her.

“And you’re Twilight, I presume?” asked Walt.

Twilight, broken out of her trance, responded to him, being a bit shy over talking to the alien creature.

“Yeah…” she admitted. “I’m Twilight. I guess I’m an alicorn, which is a combination of–”

“A unicorn and a pegasus, right?”

Twilight, once again, was surprised because of Walt’s correct answer, asking, “How did you–”

“Unicorns and pegasi are creatures of legend and myth where I am from.”

“Really? That’s so strange, because I’ve never heard of a hooman before.”

“Actually, Twilight, it’s pronounced ‘human’ and, yes, I suppose that is very interesting. Perhaps we could learn even more about each other.”

“Oh, that would be fun. Where did you come from? Are you native here? What about your clothes? How–”

“One question at a time,” interrupted Zecora, putting her hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “I know your discovery is making you feel sublime. Just give Walt some space, Twilight, and let him speak. I don’t want him to think that you are a geek.”

Walt couldn’t help but snicker at Zecora’s light jab, causing Twilight to roll her eyes, his reaction akin to a pony that she knew.

“Alright then ,” she said walking up to Walt, causing him to sit down as well as her. In her seated position, her eye level was about six inches higher than Walt’s. “So, Walt, where are you from?”

“Well, as I hypothesized with Zecora and Apple Bloom here, I believe that I am from a completely different world.”

“A different world?” asked Twilight with confusion. “But how can that be?”

“All I know is that I was walking through a subway tunnel, and–”

“Subway?”

“Right. I figured as much that any technology we had would differ from yours. Anyways, a subway is like an underground train that takes people, a plural term for humans, from place to place.”

“I see. Please, continue.”

“In fact I need to start at the beginning, for context’s sake.”

Twilight nodded while Zecora and Apple Bloom came close, ready to hear the story that they had previously been broken from.

“You see,” started Walt. “About ten years ago, this, ball of energy or something, no one was entirely sure what it was, struck New York City, my home. The energy spread across my planet, killing most human and animal life on Earth.”

Upon hearing the word “killing,” the three ponies’ jaws slid open, unprepared for the grim and macabre of Walt’s story.

“This event was what we humans called the Contagion. From there, society deteriorated, along with everything else. Cities that were most affected by the Contagion, including and especially New York City and my islandic hometown of Manhattan, had their surviving populations quarantined inside their city and guarded off from the rest of the world for fears of spreading the Contagion even further. I can even remember when they did it to our city.

“The people made for the bridges; tried to evacuate. But the military wouldn’t let them. They blew every bridge to the mainland with innocent men, women, and children still on them. Any boats or people trying to swim across trying to were immediately shot down. They kept us inside of the island until we’d eventually run out of resources and die.”

Apple Bloom and Twilight were nearly to the verge of tears. They never would have expected humans to forsake their own kind as they had. And from the stern tone of voice from Walt, there was no way he was making this up. Zecora’s face was riddled with concern and empathy over what Walt had to go through.

“Anyways,” concluded Walt, “this afternoon, I decided to take the abandoned subway tunnels back to my home when I came across a hole in the wall. It lead me into a cave that took me to this forest. And that’s when I found Apple Bloom.”

Despite offering an explanation, it did little to ease the three ponies from what they had previously heard. Walt looked upon the former two’s wet eyes and sighed, regretting his exposition.

“Twilight,” he sighed, “Apple Bloom. I’m sorry if what I told you has traumatized you in any way. I have no idea of Equestria’s customs or its inhabitants, but I can only assume that you have never seen, yet alone, comprehended such horrors before.”

Walt bowed his head down again in regret. However, Apple Bloom crawled over to Walt and pawed at his knee getting his attention.

“Well,” she said. “I’m sorry that that happened to all y’all, but I mean, humans can’t be all bad. I mean, you even saved me from a manticore.”

“A what?!?” shouted Twilight at Apple Bloom. “You were attacked by a manticore?”

“I was,” spoke Apple Bloom, putting emphasis on the “was,” “but then Walt appeared out of the bushes and killed it.”

“You what?!?” shouted Twilight at Walt. “You killed a manticore singlehandedly? How is that even possible? Those creatures are extremely dangerous.”

“Perhaps I can continue my story,” said Walt, bringing all attention back to him. “Those of us that survived the Contagion were mutated by the energy that came from it, giving us strange but awesome powers.”

“And what are your powers?” asked Apple Bloom. “Was it super speed, like how you ambushed the manticore? Or maybe it was super-strength when you toppled him over!”

“In a way,” spoke Walt, “it’s like that. But it’s a bit more complicated. You see, since being affected by the Contagion, I gained an ability to perceive time slower, but I can move at what I feel to be normal speed inside that space. So, to others, I appear faster and am stronger than normal.”

Twilight and Apple Bloom’s eyes widened again, amazed at the extraordinary abilities he possessed.

“However,” resumed Walt, “with every power, there’s a drawback. For me, because my body moves much faster and stronger than what is normal, especially in the space I create, my body becomes disoriented and I become extremely nauseous, even more so when I overuse my abilities.”

“That’s awful!” exclaimed Twilight. “And what about those things on your hips?”

“These?” Walt queried, placing his hands on the wire canisters. “This is a grappling system that a friend of mine made for me. It allows me to scale and descend tall buildings or allow me to move faster on ground. Below those are special pair of swords that she created. There are extra blades inside the handle when needed.”

“What do you use them on in your world then?” asked Twilight. “I doubt you have manticores in your world.”

“And you’d be right. I use my weapons on… other humans.”

“What?!?” shouted Twilight, Zecora, and Apple Bloom in unison.

“How can you kill your own kind like that?” yelled Twilight.

“Yeah!” shouted Apple Bloom. “Don’t you think they have families?”

Walt slowly felt his blood begin to boil

“Have you no shame?” asked Twilight.

Walt stood up towering over the three ponies.

“And you think I want to do those things?” he shouted, causing Zecora and Apple Bloom to cower while Twilight took an offensive stance. “You think I want to kill those people? You think it gives me pleasure ending their lives?”

Seeing that his words had silenced them into fear and anger, Walt sighed and sat back down.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice,” he apologized, “but understand that in my world, it’s come to the point where I need these weapons for my own survival and the survival of others. On Manhattan, there’s a tyrannical leader of a large group of survivors named Dada who does allows only two options for survivors that he finds: join his group or be killed.

“He sends other men to look for other survivors and has them offer the survivors the same choices. I have a third option: fight. Dada rules over his goons with an iron fist, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to live the rest of my life under his shadow. I don’t know if I’d be able to leave the island ever again in my lifetime, but I won’t die until I leave my home a better place than I found it in, and if that means killing people who threaten that glimmer of hope, so be it.

A couple of tears began to well in Walt’s eyes.

“But I beg of you, please don’t look at me as a monster for the acts I have committed. I only want what’s best for the world that I have left.”

Walt bowed his head down fully this time, letting two tears drop to Zecora’s floor. Twilight, Zecora, and Apple Bloom, now knowing Walt fully, felt a much bigger empathy for his plight. Twilight, now completely aware of Walt and who he really was, gently walked up to him and placed her hoof upon his shoulder, causing him to look up.

“Walt,” she sniffled. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that. I only hope you can forgive me.”

Walt gave Twilight a small smile, pleased by Twilight’s concern, and using his thumb, he wiped the tears forming on Twilight’s face.

“Of course I can forgive you,” said Walt. “I’m just happy that you can understand why I do what I do.”

“I still think you’re a swell guy,” assured Apple Bloom. “After all, you still saved me from that manticore.”

“And for that, I am grateful,” stepped in Twilight. “You see, her sister is one of my closest friends, and I can’t imagine what would happen to her if Apple Bloom got hurt.”

“She would have been more than hurt,” said Walt matter-of-factly.

“Right, but I think I might know what to do with you.”

“What’s that?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“I’m always free.”

“Great. Stop by the outskirts of the Everfree Forest tomorrow morning at sunrise. We’ll rendezvous there.”

“Rendezvous for what?”

“I’m going to escort you to Canterlot tomorrow, and–”

“Canterlot? Manehattan? Wow, you ponies come up with the darndest things.”

“Anyways,” Twilight resumed, “I’ll have a chariot come pick us up so you can meet the princess. She’ll be more than eager to meet and possibly help someth– someone like you.”

“Princess, huh?  Sounds exciting. Well, Twilight,” he said, placing his fists on his hips above his grappling hooks, “consider myself booked. Tomorrow morning at sunrise.”

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Walt.

“Actually,” he said to Twilight, “what time is it?”

“Huh? Oh! It should be just around four PM.”

Walt checked his watch. On it, it read 4:06.

“Great,” he sighed.

“What was that all about?” questioned Twilight.

“I was wondering if our times were equal or not. But they are, so we’ll be just fine.”

“Great. Zecora will help guide you through the forest tomorrow. She’ll meet you at that cave you found, alright?”

“That sounds perfect Twilight. I thank you so much for doing this for me.”

“It’s not a problem.”

Walt smiled, touched by the pony’s unconditional kindness and support.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Walt had led Zecora, Apple Bloom, and Twilight to the cave that he came out of, having used the manticore’s corpse as a point in the path.

“And you’ll be okay out there?” asked Twilight. “I’d hate for you to get yourself killed before tomorrow.”

“Hey,” said Walt with a smile, “I’ve made it this long.”

Twilight couldn’t help but giggle slightly at his assuring statement.

“Walt, before you go,” spoke Zecora, a brown, leather sack bound by a string in her teeth, “catch this sack I’m about to throw.”

Zecora whipped her neck and head and let go of the pouch, having it fly into Walt’s open hand.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s the tea from today. A gift from you to me. What can I say?.”

Walt nodded and smiled.

“Thanks Zecora. Your hospitality knows no bounds.”

“Bye, Walt!” called Apple Bloom. “I hope I can see you soon!”

“Me too,” sighed Walt, turning towards the cave. “Me too.”

Walt stepped in and began his journey back to his homeworld, with Zecora, Apple Bloom, and Twilight both standing there, reflecting on their events of the afternoon.

John continued through the cave, using his flashlight to illuminate the way until he found himself back inside the subway tunnel. Taking a look around, he found himself familiarizing with the molded concrete and the sheer desolation of the place. Walt had could hardly fight the desperation he felt at being back in his world after seeing the grace of the one behind him.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Walt arrived in his house, having almost finished with unbuckling and removing his harness with the swords still attached. Letting it drop to the floor upon his completion, he went to his sofa and sat down, taking a breather. The day had certainly been interesting, and he could only assume that it would be more interesting tomorrow.

That’s when it hit him. Walt was supposed to do another food trade with Tracy in exchange for fixing his stove. With his new engagement in his mind he went to his desk where he kept an iPhone 5 with a broken screen and searched through his contacts to find Tracy’s number. Upon finding it, he tapped around to be able to send her a message. On it, he typed.

Something came up for tomorrow. Afraid I have to cancel tomorrow’s meeting. I’ll tell you when we can rearrange.

Walt hit send, the phone signaling that the message was sent. Walt went to his sofa again, where he found his novel sitting where he had left it the previous day. Upon lifting it off the armrest, his phone vibrated from the desk. Disgruntled, Walt walked back over and looked at the reply Tracy had sent.

What? What came up? Maybe I can help?

Walt, knowing he couldn’t tell her the truth, tried to give her a simpler, yet still honest answer.

You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

A few seconds later, another text.

Try me.

Walt smirked, imagining Tracy’s response to his next text.

A purple winged unicorn named Twilight is taking me to the city of Canterlot so I can meet the princess.

Walt hit send. As expected, there was a delay in the reply. Walt couldn’t help but snicker as he thought of Tracy’s mouth hanging open after she read the absurd text. Soon, a reply came.

Lol! But seriously, what’s happening?

Walt, knowing he’d get nowhere with her, sent a final message.

I told you you wouldn’t. Night, Tracy.

Before she could reply, Walt shut the phone off and placed it back on his desk. He then retired back into his sofa, reading where he had left off in his book until he finally nodded back to sleep.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Dada sat at the head of a long, wooden table, where other people sat at both sides. Five other tables were formed in the torch-lit, chamber-like dining hall of Dada’s abode. Each man and woman at each table was greedily digging into small garden salads placed in bowls, most of them broken.

Dada was now dressed in a clean set of clothes similar to the ones that he wore when he killed his prisoner. As Dada speared a clump of iceberg lettuce in a thin, oily dressing, he picked his napkin off his lap and gingerly wiped his lips and chin with the oil-stained cloth before placing it on the table.

As if on cue, a portly man ran into the room, yelling Dada’s name. His face displayed emotions of fear and sadness. Dada rose up from his chair and walked to meet the man halfway.

“What is it?” asked Dada. “You’re lucky that I just finished my salad.”

“It’s them, Dada,” he spoke in a flustered voice. “Steve. Chris. Marcus. We found their bodies.”

On hearing the last word, Dada’s attention was immediately taken away from his dinner.

“Bodies?” he asked.

Dada walked quickly to the exit of the room, the man following him. Dada exited the chambers and into a hallway, the man following close behind. They turned right into a room that resembled a hospital room, but all there was in the center was three tables where the dead bodies of Chris, Marcus, and Steve lied.

Upon seeing the extensive damage done to the bodies, Dada’s eyes were riddled with shock and amazement.

“Who the fuck did this to my men?” he spoke in a near-yell.

“We don’t know, sir!” whimpered the man. “Judging from the autopsy, they were killed yesterday.”

“I don’t care what time they died. I just care about who the fuck killed them!”

“I’ll do my best, sir!” he cried.

“Try harder,” he said before leaving the room.

“Of course, Dada sir.”

Dada left the room, heading back to the dining room to rejoin his comrades.

“Whoever you are,” whispered Dada to himself before giving a sly smile, “I’ll make you mine.”