//------------------------------// // Who Are I? // Story: Equestria's Twilight // by Sapidus3 //------------------------------// Warning: Some gruesome imagery in the second half of the chapter. Nothing really bad, but I decided it was better to play it safe than sorry. Chapter 26: Who Are I? After what felt like an eternity, Twilight finally plunged back into time. The ground seemed to heave underneath her hooves and she had trouble remaining standing. “Not this again,” another pony said, rolling to her hooves. Twilight expanded her senses. She was in a familiar room with a familiar pony. She was about to ask the other pony what she meant, when she remembered something important. There was a script she needed to follow. “You don’t get to complain. This is only your first time through this.” The words tumbled out of her mouth without thought. Her magical sense frizzles again and everything in the room seemed to waver and for a moment Twilight thought there was two of everything. She put a hoof to her forehead, trying to force everything into place. What was that horrible smell? She had burned Justice from time. Twilight realized the smell was vomit and wondered when she had thrown up. “Is everything alright?” The other Twilight asked. How many Twilights are there now? How many do I count as? Twilight could feel the lingering effects of the Empress’s spell unraveling and knew she had to act fast. Her mind was splintering apart and she did not know how long she could carry on a coherent conversation. “Yea… No… It’s… There is a lot going on in here. Haven’t had a chance to sort it out yet. Ugh, which one are you?” Which Twilight are you? Which one am I? “What?” The younger Twilight asked. “Do you know Diam- No that won’t work, might give it away.” “What are you talking about?” Yes, it was definitely a younger Twilight she was speaking to, though that only partially narrowed down the possibilities. “I’ve had this conversation twice now. I’m trying to figure out which version it is.” The script was the only thing getting her through this. Two conversations, two scripts, but they both started the same. “You’ve been through this loop twice already?” The younger pony shook her head. “No don’t be stupid. Parallel lines. They converge soon. Oh! Did you kill Little Pinkie?” “Why would you ask something like that?” “Yes or no? Did you kill Little Pinkie?” “Of course not! Why would I kill Little Pinkie?” “Good. I know which one this is now.” Twilight paused as she tried to contemplate where to go from there. “In a week from now you are going to be at a party when you are going to be struck by a really bad headache. Be prepared to leave the party with little warning. I need to go now.” Twilight threw on a quick illusion, taking on the guise of a unicorn and cast a teleportation spell. Before she disappeared she heard the other Twilight yelling for her to wait. Twilight materialized in the middle of the hedge mazes with nopony around. She had wandered the mazes before and knew them like the back of her hoof. The problem was that she knew two version of the maze. By pure chance, or perhaps through a convoluted chain of causality, the gardener had switched the layout of the maze. Twilight could not remember which version belonged to the reality she was currently in. Twilight wandered the maze, trying to discern what facts belonged with what series of events. Occasionally, she would think she knew which maze she was in only to decide that she must be in the other. It was only by pure chance that she found the exit as the sun began to beat down on her back. The maze dumped her out onto one of the garden mezzanine where a small number of ponies were gathered. Somewhere by themselves, simply enjoying the plant life, while others seemed to be part of a group. Twilight sat down on a bench at one of the tables. Twilight was not certain how long she was sitting at the table. She did not know what thoughts were hers and what memories were true. Everything was a horrible jumble and she did not know where to begin to sort through things. There was only a small list of things she was certain of. She was still blind, and so she had probably fought the nightmare in both time strands. However, other than that one bit of concrete physical evidence, everything was in her head and could not be trusted. She gave her body a once over. She supposed she could also be certain that she was an alicorn. “Did you hear? One of the Witherton three just came out of his coma.” Twilight looked up. A pony was sitting at the table across from her, looking up from his newspaper. “Witherton three?” She thought the words were hers. The pony with the newspaper turned to look at her. He was not across the table from her, but rather was sitting down the table across from some other pony. He seemed surprised at her intrusion. “Yeah, the three colts that survived the Witherton massacre. They’ve been in comas this entire time.” Twilight shook her head. “C-colts? You mean the two colts and a filly.” The pony glanced at his companion before looking back at her. “I’m pretty sure they’re all colts. Here, I’m done with the article.” He levitated the paper over to Twilight. “At the least they all sound like male names to me.” Her illusion hid the bandage over her eyes, but otherwise still left her unable to see. Twilight stared at the paper in front of her as the two two stallions resumed their own conversation. Instinctively, her damaged eyes wanted to dart across the words. She did not need her eyesight to know what name she would not find in the article. There was no mention of “Little Pinkie.” She remembered how her younger self had responded to her question in this version of events. Once again she teleported away in a blind panic. The memories came rushing in a cascade that she had no control over. Each event was paired with an alternate event. Sometimes the differences were small and minor. Othertimes they were drastic and hard to reconcile. Rarity found being a mother did not leave her with much time. Rarity, with an abundance of time on her hooves, kept in close touch with Applejack and Fluttershy. After Fluttershy lost her family and adopted Little Pinkie, Rarity attended the funeral but then returned to Canterlot where her family now called home. After the caravan was slaughtered, Rarity moved back to Ponyville for awhile to help Fluttershy get over her loss. Rarity was a great mother to Diamond Justice. Rarity was a great aunt to Little Pinkie. Rarity occasionally wrote a letter to Fluttershy. Rarity convinced Fluttershy and Little Pinkie to come live with her and Stone Edge in Canterlot. Little Pinkie became friends with a pony who moved to Witherton. She never met that filly. Twilight tried to figure out which one was true. She remembered the other Twilight’s words. “Of course not! Why would I kill Little Pinkie?” Which thread am I in? Is this the one that remains? The one that is real? Two images rapidly flashed through her mind. One was of a filly, dead beneath her. The other was a filly alive and vibrant. The images existed at odds with one another. They could both not be true. There was an easy way to resolve the paradox. She just needed to kill Little Pinkie and everything would line up. Twilight screamed as she held her head. “I didn’t kill her… She’s still alive… But… But I did kill her. I remember killing her. I remember how it felt. I made the decision… Am… Am I a killer?” And suddenly Twilight could see again, only she was not certain where she was. The room was empty accept for the vanity set in front of her. There was not even any sign of doors or windows. On top of the vanity were three large angled mirrors. The middle mirror did not seem to reflect anything. However, the two side mirrors each contained a different reflection. The images were nearly identical, and the subtle differences might have been imperceptible to anypony but Twilight. However, to her, the incongruities placed the ponies in the two reflections a world a part. On the left was a Twilight with a softer face and lighter eyes. A slight serene smile was on her face. She lost her student but never had to confront the killer. She never had to exile a pony, sending him to almost certain death. She was never faced with making the choice between giving a filly a gift of death or watching a friend slowly wither away. The pony on the left never had to unmake Diamond Justice. The reflection on the right was harder, more angular. She had dark eyes. That Twilight had to make compromises, or rather had chosen to make compromises. There was a slight downturn of her lips. That Twilight would do whatever it would take to save Equestria. “But which pony am I? Am I either of you? Some combination… I don’t know. What type of pony am I?” “Night Walker is still free. He never faced justice. But… It’s been two years. I have some distance. Does losing my student hurt as much? What should I do?” The reflection on the left moved, opening her mouth. “See that he is brought before the courts. The evidence is there just waiting to be put together. Life imprisonment and attempted rehabilitation. Justice will be done.” The reflection on the right was silent at first, but when she spoke there was a twist to her lips. “Yes… Let Justice be done.” Twilight looked between the two mirrors as she made her decision. The gentle Twilight closed her eyes and lowered her head. “I guess I know which Twilight I am.” +++ Twilight was not certain what happened next. She somehow found her way out of the empty room, but upon doing so was rendered blind again. It was night time and she was stalking the streets of Canterlot. One thought was holding her mind together. She needed to render judgement. Stretching her tendrils down the alley she confirmed that she had found her prey. Her magic engulfed the light, absorbing the magic of the flickering glow orb above the back exit of some seedy building. With hardly a thought, she sent Night Walker’s compatriots flying against the wall and smacked her prey to the ground. Her legs compressed and she pounced on top of the cowering curr. As he looked up at her with wide eyes she could only smile. Twilight rose her hoof preparing to bring it down on his head. “Let this emergency session of Twilights come to order.” Dozens of Twilights were sitting around a large circular table in the center of of Ponyville town hall. Her cutie mark was emblazoned across the wood and Twilights were situated in seats at even spacings. Outside the windows of the town hall there were houses stacked on top of other houses. Some were half merged together and others were crushed beneath buildings that had simply been dropped next door. Still others were right next door to their duplicates. At one end of the table the gentle Twilight spoke, “Are we sure we are about to to do this?” Across from her the hard Twilight growled, “We already decided this. Justice must be done.” Another Twilight spoke, “We are about to take a life with our own hoof.” “The first time we sent him to his death.” said still another Twilight. “We at least gave him a chance at life.” said a fifth Twilight. “It was more than he deserved.” “It is not a question of what he deserves.” “You should always give a pony another chance, even if you don’t think they deserve it.” “Friendship Report number twenty eight,” quoted a Twilight wearing glasses. “He killed Moon Dreamer!” “Think about what it would be like to take his life.” “Exactly. Think about what it would like to crush him.” “We don’t want to do this,” said the gentle Twilight. “We want this,” responded her counterpart. “Please,” another Twilight quietly interrupted, “we can’t take the life of another pony.” “We took Pinkie’s life.” “We’ve been given a second chance. Nopony gets a second chance at something like that. Yet we’ve been given one.” “At the cost of another.” “Diamond Justice was never born. There was no cost,” stated a logical Twilight. “There was! We remember him. The possibility of his existence was the cost of this reality.” “If we do this, we will be throwing our chance away.” “He killed Moon Dreamer!” “But-” “Does that mean nothing to us? He was our student.” “No…” “Then we do it.” “Did you hear that?” “We’ve been in here for awhile.” “No more than seconds.” Two newsstand Twilights broke into the room, fighting over a paper. Despite their brawl, they managed to throw it onto the table. All of the Twilights leaned over to read it. There was a picture of two ponies scrambling to their hooves, and two lines. “What is that thing?” Read one Twilight. “I don’t know, it’s like something out of a nightmare.” Finished another. Every Twilight present reeled back at that final word, some even falling from their chairs. “No!” “If we do this she wins,” said one Twilight, slamming a hoof on the table. “We destroyed her,” said another Twilight pulling herself back up to the table. “Correction: we damaged her,” said the logical Twilight. “That doesn’t mean we don’t become her.” “We might as well let her into this council and put her in charge.” “There is another possibility, another path we can take.” Everypony turned to look at the logical Twilight. “It does not have to be a choice between taking his life or essentially letting him go free.” “What do you suggest?” asked another Twilight. “The problem, if I recall, is that he felt no remorse. He had enjoyed the murder and felt no remorse. Agreed?” “That sounds right.” “I could feel some sympathy for him if he at least felt bad,” conceded the hard Twilight. “Then let’s make him feel bad.” “No! Torture is even worse than just killing him.” “I’m not talking about torture. This pony is ill. He is a sociopath. He does not feel empathy or guilt. I am suggesting that we cure him.” “How would we do that?” “Simple. We go into his mind, and give him empathy.” “Once again, how would we do that?” “Our Celestia construct has empathy,” suggested the Twilight with glasses. “We don’t understand how her mind works.” “Personally that is something that worries me greatly.” One of the Twilight’s blushed drawing glances from the Twilights around her. “I propose we table concerns about our construct’s operation.” “I concur.” “Then we can return to the matter at hoof.” “Still the point stands. How does it help that she has empathy if we don’t understand how her mind works?” “We made her mind.” “Not piece by piece. We made a system that makes connections. We didn’t make ‘empathy.’ That was emergent behavior.” “It’s really very simple. What is empathy, at a basic level?” asked the Twilight with glasses. “You feel bad when other ponies feel bad. You feel good when other ponies are happy?” “Exactly,” answered logical Twilight. “We construct a simple perception filter in his mind. When it picks up ponies feeling ‘bad,’ we can determine the parameters while we are putting it in place, we have it create feedback into the pain centers of his brain. A second filter can pick up ponies being ‘happy’ and feedback into his pleasure centers.” “That’s not real empathy.” “It’s a close enough facsimile for our purposes. We have been in here long enough that another second has gone by.” A few of the Twilight’s glanced over at the newspaper. The image had shifted. “I believe his friends are preparing to flee.” “Inconsequential.” “Do we know enough to implement your idea?” “We can identify the pleasure and pain centers of his brain, yes.” “We can’t perform psychosurgery on a pony without their permission!” “Would you rather we killed him without his permission?” Silence settled over the council. “So are we all in agreement?” asked one of the Twilights. “Wait!” “What?” “This isn’t normal…” “What do you mean?” “I mean. We’ve always talked to ourselves. We sometimes even talk back. Sometimes we even imagine other ponies talking to us for a different perspective, but this…” “This?” “This right here, this council of Twilights. This is something new.” “She’s right,” said a Twilight. “Is it fundamentally different from talking to ourselves?” “It seems to be. This is inside our visualization of our mind. We’ve never done this before… not like this.” “We’ve always visualised multiple versions of us in here.” “But we’ve never visualised full on debates with ourself.” “Then what is this a visualisation of?” “The onset of schizophrenia? Multiple personalities?” “Show of hooves if you are Twilight.” Every Twilight in the room raised a hoof as one. “So not multiple personalities.” “What about the nightmare, she certainly seemed like a split personality.” “We dealt with her.” “By performing self-lobotomization!” “Still, we dealt with her.” “I’m not sure if she counts as a split personality. She was a gestalt mental construct birthed by our mind.” “She lived in here. She was part of us.” “And what remains of her is still part of us. That does not mean she is us.” “No, we can’t just say that the dark side of every pony is separate from who they are.” “She isn’t just our dark side; she is something more.” “All in favor of tabling the matter of our mental nightmare child for a later time and return to the discussion at hoof.“ “Namely, if we are crazy?” “I thought it went without saying.” “So split personalities?” “No, I don’t think so,” said one Twilight. “I agree,” said another. The last two Twilights to speak suddenly began to vibrate and turned to stare at one another in surprise. The other Twilights looked on with curiosity as the vibrations of their compatriots increased, until suddenly a great force slammed the two Twilights into one another. When they hit, their coats began to ripple and they flowed into each other. Where there had once been two Twilights, there was now one, slightly larger, Twilight. The new Twilight blinked in surprise, moving her mouth silently a few moments before actually making any sounds. “I agree.” “Interesting…” “So… More like fractured personalities.” “How so?” “In the past, in here, in this visualisation, we were always here somewhere.” “Yes, we have always been a part of Twilight.” “But there was also Twilight, there was only Twilight. A Twilight who represented the core of our being.” “And now we are broken.” “Why?” “Isn’t it obvious?” “No.” “We have undergone massive trauma. We are dealing with integrating two different sets of memories of the last thirty years. On the surface they seem identical, but their personal impact on us is large.” “Case in point, those two.” The speaking Twilight pointed at the hard and soft Twilight at opposite sides of the table. “Amalgamated representations of the two different experiences,” stated logical Twilight. “Hypothesis: this is a coping mechanism,” posited the Twilight with glasses. “Evidence: The two Twilights who merged a few moments ago. They were similar enough in thought patterns that they were both not necessary,” replied logical Twilight. “So we are?” “Trains of thought. Ideas that Twilight is having. She is very lost right now, so in her visualisation, she has given us form to try and figure things out.” “Would there be a better way to deal with this?” “Tear down our mind and rebuild it from the ground up?” “That sounds less than optimal.” “Perhaps this visualization can be of assistance.” “Explain.” “We can build new representations, trying to incorporate aspects of both sets of memories.” “It will take time to sort through things.” “Thought.” “Yes?” “There is a version of us currently alive in a separate time stream.” “Yes.” “She is likely experiencing something very similar to this.” “Yes- though she might not have had the catalyst of learning about Little Pinkie or dealing with Nightwalker.” “She still has the memories that Little Pinkie is alive. She traveled back in time after the timelines merged. It’s only a matter of time until something causes her to think about it.” “Yes.” “Besides, there are dozens of other things that might cause her to retreat to this place.” “Yes.” “Can she do anything to have any impact on the world?” “No- When the past Twilight in her thread erases Diamond Justice, her past Twilight’s personal timeline will merge with ours. However, it is this version of events that will remain. The only thing to be carried over from the version of reality where Diamond Justice was born, is Past Twilight’s memories.” “Incorrect- At the moment Past Twilight’s two threads merge, our thread will merge with the future Twilight in that timeline.” “Question- are there two different realities?” asked the Twilight with glasses. “Hypothesis- No. There is only one reality, just playing out in two different ways - temporarily,” responded the logical Twilight. “End the sidebar,” demanded the hard Twilight. “So we will go through this trauma again in a week.” “Yes, though with only a week of experience it will hopefully be less severe.” “You are ignoring the important point.” “Which is?” “Can she, that is the parallel version of us, Parallel Future Twilight, effect any change on reality.” “No. While in the original timeline, anything she does will be undone at the end of the week.” “So only our actions will have any lasting impact?” “Yes.” “Then does it matter what that other Twilight does.” “No… Yes! She will have memory of what she does. So when the week is over-” “We merge and the remaining amalgamated future Twilight has the memories.” “Are we a clever pony?” A resounding “yes” rose from everypony present. “What would be the clever thing for us to spend a week doing, if the only lasting impact could be here, in our mind.” “Read, learn, think, theorize.” “Dream.” “Think.” “Yes, think.” “That Twilight, at this point in time, is very similar to us. She will spend the week rebuilding her mind, repairing the damage.” “Will that cause a problem then?” “You mean when our memories remerge?” “Yes.” “Perhaps. If we do not take steps to rebuild here, then we could end up with two very disparate minds attempting to join.” “They will be no more disparate than what we have already gone through.” “I trust her.” “How so?” ‘We are a clever pony. Whatever repairs she makes, she will take into account the fact that we will undergo this trauma again. Her visualization will be prepared to accept an influx of new personal history and will incorporate us.” “May I raise the point that it has been some time. We are still poised over a pony terrified half to death.” “So are we agreed that this is a coping mechanism and not a symptom of a larger break of reality? A show of hoofs.” -all hoofs but one go up. “I disagree. I think we should sequester ourselves in the physical world and seek immediate professional help. This is not normal behavior even for us.” “Then we lack total consensus.” “We lack unity…” All the Twilights blinked as one. “Our theory…” “Immortality is the result of the will.” “And our physical being is a result of our unity of spirit.” “What is unity?” “Harmony.” “What is disharmony?” “Wrong.” “Is this then how it begins? How we become that thing?” “We still do not know if that is what happens.” “It is certainly starting to seem that way.” “There is a solution.” “That is?” “Harmony.” All heads turned to stare at the Twilight who had disagreed. “I’m afraid you will have to concur.” “We must maintain unity.” “I can’t agree. We need help.” “All in favor of removing the unharmonious train of thought from our mind?” “Wait!” “This had better be good.” “Friendship report number sixty-two.” “Ponies can disagree and still be friends.” “Friendship is harmony.” “So we can have disagreement and still have harmony?” “Besides, you don’t all agree on everything. If you did you would have merged like those other two Twilights” The Twilights turned to look at the slightly larger Twilight. “Very well then. We will continue to entertain the notion that we are crazy. However, it seems that the majority agrees that we cope with this coping mechanism for now.” “I would just like to bring up the followup to report sixty-two, report sixty-three.” “Even if friends disagree, they will learn to agree, even if that agreement is a disagreement.” “Not our best worded report.” “But the point was good.” “Which, in this case is?” “Even should disagreement in this council continue, we should see more mergers begin to take place.” “To summarize the minutes of this meeting.” “We are broken-” “Though we have been broken for a long while.” “We are more broken now.” “However, we have found a way to cope with the trauma, which based on the nose bleeds we have experienced may not be isolated to just being psychological.” “Repair of the damage will be left to our split-timestream duplicate.” “Matters tabled for later discussion will be addressed once our plans for the week have been determined.” “We will decide what to do with our week once the issue of Night Walker has been dealt with.” “And we have decided to go into Night Walker’s mind.” “He is broken as well.” “We will fix him.” “Dissenting opinions on all matters have been heard and noted. They will be tolerated.” Twilight was standing in the alley again. Two ponies were running out the other end and Night Walker was still cowering beneath her. She crinkled her nose as she realized that she could smell something foul. Night Walker had soiled himself. “Night Walker, you are lucky. I’m not going to hurt you today. Instead I am going to give you understanding. I’m going to open your heart to harmony.” Twilight lowered her horn to touch his forehead. There was no walk through Ponyville or crossing of a bridge. Twilight knew that there must have been, but her own mind was in such a shamble that the moment she crossed over to Night Walker’s was lost to her. Twilight was in an alley much like the one where was confronting Night Walker in the real world. There was a recess in the paving stones where narrow stairs led down to a wooden door below the street level. His mind was through the door. Twilight was not alone. She looked to her left and then to her right at the two lavender alicorns standing besides her and noticed that they were doing the same. All three of them sighed at once. “We need to be focused for this.” “We can’t afford to split our attention if we want to do this right.” “Perhaps we should imagine ourselves as one pony for this foray?” The three of them vibrated and then there was only one Twilight Sparkle in the alley. She shook her head as she made her way down the stairs. “This is going to be difficult to maintain, though I suppose it is better than the alternative.” Her nose scrunched when she reached the bottom step. Some refuse was jammed in the corner and emitting a foul odor. Her hoof had set down in a small puddle of some liquid that she was happy to be unable to identify. For a moment she was worried that the door would be locked or would act as a barrier to keep her out. However, the wood was rotten and was hanging ajar on a single hinge. Twilight entered the run down stone building and felt her hoof drop as she reached over the lading. The floor was slightly lower than it was outside. Standing just inside the doorway, Twilight could see nothing from the feeble light that spilled around her form. Looking down she could see that all four of her hooves were now standing in some viscous black liquid. A rancid smell invaded her nostrils. It was the smell of a diseased mind. She took another step forward and the faint light vanished. The tip of her horn flared to life casting a circle of illumination around herself. The room seemed to extend in every direction with no walls. Dozens of chains hung from the ceiling, each one seeming to gently sway. When she focused on any given chain, it would seem to cease its motion. It only seemed to be the act of running her eye across the forest of chains that caused them to sway. But every so often she would hear them clink against one another. Twilight moved forward, pushing chains out of her way as she went. They swirled around her, rippling outwards. Deeper into his mind the ceiling seemed to get higher, and some of the chains began to end at the level of her head. They ended in jagged hooks. A drop of liquid landed on her horn from above and she was assailed by a memory. ”Boy, what did I tell you about wasting food. Do you think I work all day just so you can not eat?” Another drop from the ceiling. ”Son, what did I tell you about crying?” The next drop was still old, but from not as long ago. ”Hey there little squirrel, do you want to be my friend.” Twilight could feel a strange glint in the colt’s eyes and felt a pit in her stomach. Against her better judgement she looked up. She knew what the liquid was now. She pulled her eyes away from the lifeless squirrel hanging above her. It had only been the first. Twilight continued deeper and began to make out shadows hanging from the hooks. Each one was a memory of murder, butchered and hung like some form of grotesque trophy. Twilight ground her teeth, just glad that none of the forms belonged to Moon Dreamer. She did not want to destroy this pony’s mind. As she walked her hooves traced out pathways. Occasionally she would tap her horn to a chain and leave it encased in a golden glow. And then her world exploded in pain. A hoof slammed into her face and she went skidding through the hoof deep liquid. Slowly she stood up staring at assailant in shock. That actually hurt? My mind should be stronger than that. “Heh. What’s this that we have here?” Night Walker’s twisted shadow chuckled to himself. “A filly all alone by herself. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to go wandering off by yourself little filly?” Twilight looked down at her body and realized that she had shrunk in size. She was just a little filly alone in the dark. Night Walker lunged again as Twilight darted to the side. She was almost done fixing him and just needed a little bit more time, but it was already past her bedtime. She shook her head. She was Princess Twilight Sparkle, a grown mare. The shadowy form stepped back for a moment in shock before chuckling again. “Not a filly then, a mare. More fun that way. You won’t break as easily.” As Twilight danced out of the way of the next attack, she grabbed another chain encasing it in her magic. “I’ve never realized how horrible a pony’s id could be before.” The shadow stopped his attack, cocking his head. “Id? Oh, no. I think you have the wrong pony. That guy’s a load of fun, heh heh.” Then his words dissolved into chuckling again. Twilight watched the shadow in confusion and then realized it was not watching her but rather something behind her. Twirling around, she managed to jump out of the way just before a writhing mass of darkness slammed into the ground. The monstrous beast then shot out a protrusion before she could react, knocking her back. “That’s your id? Then you’re what?” Twilight coughed as she realized. “You really don’t have a functioning consciousness do you?” Both of her assailants came at her at once, but her last leap had placed her next to the chain she needed. She grabbed it as they came within a hoof span of her. Everything seemed to slow down. “Let the light burn you.” Golden strands of light settled over all of the hanging bodies, and there was suddenly no need for Twilight’s light spell. The perception filter was done, and the pony could see his crimes now. And then she completed the link to the pain center. Chains flew from the bodies impaling the two monsters before her, stopping their approach. The shadow and the monster struggled as more and more hooked chains bound their limbs and slowly pulled them back into the depths of Night Walker’s mind. Twilight made her way to the waking world. She stepped backwards and was dimly aware of a rhythmic thumping sound. Reestablishing her magical senses, Twilight could feel Night Walker bashing his face against the paving stones. “Why, why did I hurt them? Why does it hurt so much? Oh, light help me, why?” The pounding of his skull became more vigorous, and Twilight was certain she heard something breaking. Twilight was certain the pony was going to kill himself. She used the true Royal Canterlot Voice, “stop.” The pony before her was quivering in inaction. “You will survive. If I must live with the weight of my crimes, so then must you.”