• Published 15th Jan 2014
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Hard Reset 2: Reset Harder - horizon



Twilight Sparkle is stuck in a time loop amid a changeling invasion. This time, she's not the only one whose day is repeating.

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Old Wounds (1)

Luna's memory cache is remarkably boring for such a forbidden spell. She merely stares at me for a short while, horn glowing. I had expected some bookshelf, or billboard, or huge steel vault, or something, to pop up from the surrounding mindscape — but the only apparent effect is a mild tingling in my scalp, which recedes as her hornglow dies away.

"It is done," she whispers as the mindscape fades around us. "Thank you."

I return to consciousness with a slow ticking in my ears. When I open my eyes, the cold — and mercifully non-aquamarine-tinted — stone of the experiment room is illuminated by the stifled glow of covered magelights. The wall clock reads a little after 3:00.

Luna is stowing the Circlet of Mind back in its lockbox. Celestia is curled up in a corner, eyes closed, breathing slow, with a sleeping Spike sprawled out against her side. Aside from the languid swinging of the clock's pendulum, the room is silent.

I sit up and stare at Celestia — my gut balling up as I try not to think about the conversation I know is ahead — but my thoughts are interrupted by an odd weight at my neck. I glance down. A large oval amethyst glimmers against the lavender of my coat, centered in a heavy silver setting secured tightly to my throat with a thick silver chain. The necklace tingles with restrained magical energy.

Luna finishes securing the locks and walks over to me. "In future loops," she whispers, "to instruct me to retrieve the memory cache, simply make reference to me of 'six persimmons,' or of the Qilinese gardens of that name. Long ago, during my theft of the Jade Horseshoes, I used this same spell to smuggle forbidden knowledge into the court of the Qilinese Emperor. I will know of what you speak."

"Okay," I whisper back, then tap the necklace with a hoof. "What's this?"

Discomfort flits across her muzzle. "I spoke of the unorthodox measures I took to stabilize you, yes? In brief, Twilight, that amulet is a phylactery, prepared long ago by a necromancer we defeated before it could be put to use. Your consciousness is now attuned to it, rather than your body."

"Uh. So to fix me, you bound my soul to an inanimate object? I'm a LICH now?" I can feel a migraine coming on — not the broken-brain kind, the you've-got-to-be-kidding-me kind.

"Yes. No. Somewhat." She rubs the bridge of her muzzle with a hoof; it looks like I'm not the only one with a hurting head. "In ordinary circumstances, you should be correct — such a process would have terminated your body's vitality immediately, and only the transference of spirit from the phylactery would animate it. But there is a suppressed second consciousness inhabiting your body, beyond the one I speak with now. Celestia suspected that to be Twilight, back when we believed you were a hostile spirit assuming control of her. As you are Twilight, that is impossible, but I know not who else it might be."

I have no idea where to start with my questions, but the interaction of this with my time loops seems pretty darn important. "So what happens if I take the necklace off? Does that count as dying? What happens if I don't die? Can I even be killed now? Since I'm bound to the necklace, what happens to me if I start the loop without it on?" The headache presses at my eyeballs. "I really don't want to get another lecture from the universe, especially since the Elements of Harmony already exploded saving me."

"The situation is unprecedented. We shall discover the answers as we proceed, taking every possible precaution to prevent paradox." Luna sighs. "I do apologize, Twilight. I tried every trick I knew before resorting to the techniques of forbidden magic. I have spent the better part of four nights on this. I do not say lightly that isolating your consciousness was the only method of stabilization."

"Because of the second … um, me?"

"Yes. No. Somewhat," Luna whispers. "There were not two but three components to separate, the third of which was a vast amount of foreign memory data."

"Three?" My migraine threatens to get worse, but then a piece of the puzzle clicks together. "Ah, okay. The One Loop."

"I was able to repair my own damage to your mind early on — due to the intervention of the Elements, it was not severe. The issue which caused your premature deaths was not my attack, but an overflow of memory far beyond what your mind was ever meant to contain. The recall of the overloaded memories was triggering physiological controls without regard to their effect on your body."

"Wait — The One Loop was killing me?"

"Yes. It was writ to such detail as to overfill a mortal mind on its own. Even after the separation of the two consciousnesses, it presented an immediate and insoluble hazard to your health."

I know exactly where this is going, but I still have to ask. "What did you do with it?"

"I removed it, naturally."

It's surprisingly liberating to realize that the universe is actively out to get you.

"Twilight?" Spike mumbles, blinking sleep from his eyes. Celestia lifts her head from the floor near his side, glancing over at me. Luna stares at me, frozen in place. Spike sits up. "Are you okay? What's so funny?"

"It's gone," I manage in between gales of helpless laughter. "All of it. Gone."

Celestia nods, staring into my eyes. "Luna," she mutters out of the side of her mouth, "I don't think you're quite finished."

I gasp for breath, light-headed and grinning. "No, no, humor is a perfectly natural reaction to a cathartic reversal of subversion of expectation. They've done studies and everything." They're all looking at me, lost. "See, I figured I was stuck in this time loop because the universe hates me — and then the Elements of Harmony gave me the perfect way out of this mess, so for a minute it looked like maybe things would turn out okay after all, but of course it was just a way to make everything worse — how could it have ever been any different? And now that it's done its damage I don't even get to try it." I glance around from face to unsmiling face. "Did explaining the joke ruin it?"

Celestia clears her throat, her eyes drifting away from me. "I … well. I'm afraid I don't see much humor in this, Twilight. Now that you're better, I owe you an apology. I owe you a great deal more than that."

Aaand here we go. My amusement plummets away like a feather drifting into a cockatrice's gaze.

"But you have to understand," she says quietly, "I have a world to save — not just from Chrysalis, but from every possible threat —"

"That's a strange way to start an apology." I'm really not ready to hear why it made perfect sense for her to talk Luna into brain-ripping me.

She sighs. "You're right. I'm sorry, full stop. But if there's one thing I know about my faithful student, it's how important it is that the world makes sense around her. If I just tell you I was wrong, my words aren't going to mean anything. You want to know why."

That line would have worked wonders on pre-Ponyville Twilight, or even pre-looping Twilight — and that's almost certainly why she's using it — but it's not what I need right now. Even if I were ready for this conversation, the naked appeal to rationality (is that a logical fallacy? Can it even be?) would leave a bad taste in my mouth. It feels like some continued identity test, like she's trying a little too hard to offer a Twilight-specific fix to our schism — except it isn't, because that's also how she behaved the last time things went sour between us, and in some ways that makes it even worse.

"Yeah, well," I say lamely. "Right now I'm still sorting through the consequences."

She nods. "We all are. This has gotten strange in ways that none of us could have expected."

That's what friendship is for, I want to say. That's what trust is for. That's how we face the unknown. That's what separates us from the monsters. But I can't look her in the eye. I don't want to be here. And if I open my mouth, I just know I'm going to pick a fight.

We sit in uncomfortable silence for a moment. "I do want to make this right for you," Celestia continues.

"Forgive me if I'm a bit suspicious of that," I allow myself to say.

"That's only natural. We'll have to make that better the same way we're fixing everything else: one loop at a time." Celestia gestures with a wingtip down at the evocation circle. "First order of business is to get rid of that ward, wouldn't you agree? It's not much, but we have to start somewhere."

I nod mutely.

"Tell me what else you want me to change." She glances behind her. "Oh … speaking of which, what should I do with the Elements? I don't know how much good they're going to do at this point."

"What do you mean?" I glance up at the bookshelf where they've been sitting during all the loops I've started here. The jewelry looks like it's been through a fire, and its gems are dull and dark, but the shelf itself is pristine. I blink. "Huh? What happened to them this loop?"

"This loop? Nothing, as near as I can tell. They've looked like that ever since the massive feedback surge and your accompanying mental damage." Celestia looks earnestly into my eyes. "What happened? I'd like to hear it straight from you."

Luna clears her throat. "Sister, if I might interrupt …"

Celestia glances at her sister. "Luna, this is important."

"I know. It is one of many topics which, if you are to make any progress in understanding our predicament, you both will need to discuss in full. But I am concerned, since there seems little point in you asking such a question now."

Celestia looks blankly at Luna. "Why wouldn't there be? I …" She blinks, and her mouth curls downward. "You told me that once she woke up you were done fixing her."

"You misunderstood. Not until she resets."

"But you said the reanchoring was a loop-independent alteration of her underlying consciousness. That was the point of it, to repair her in a way that wouldn't be undone the first time someone died."

"Correct, but due to the excised foreign memories, the work I performed is a potential source of discontinuity until she resets with knowledge of my repairs. If you were to reset first, and the loop spell attempted to add her memories back in … the damage would at minimum undo all that I have accomplished, and hypothetically might create a paradox that could threaten our timeline itself."

The corner of Celestia's eye twitches. "You definitely didn't mention that earlier."

"I was quite explicit that you not reset until my repairs were complete, under pain of severe existential consequences. I see I was insufficiently clear on the definition of 'complete'." Luna stares back with cool intensity. "Celestia, I must insist, in the most emphatic possible terms, that Twilight be the next to terminate her loop."

I decide to weigh in. "Look, it's no big deal." I try not to show my relief at the reprieve; if I reset, I can take a loop or two as a breather before fully diving into this. "Let's make sure I'm stable first, and have this talk right after my loop starts, where we can both reset and remember it equally."

"It won't be that simple," Celestia mutters. "At the start of this loop you were still trapped in the ward, and I didn't realize the need for my apology."

Oh, right. That … could complicate things. I'm about to backpedal when Luna cuts in: "You are not pressed for time, sister. It will be no great task for you to re-learn all we have discovered. Give Twilight Sparkle the ward password; I have already informed her of the nature of her repairs and the purpose of the necklace, and can easily verify that information upon her reset. At that point, she can bid us to recreate the investigation which led us here — with you resetting at that terminus, once again prepared for your conversations."

"That's reasonable," Celestia says after a moment's thought, though she doesn't sound at all happy about it. "She resets first. Twilight, the password is 'Look ever upward.' Tell me 'Fillydelphia.' I apologize in advance for next loop's behavior; it will take me some time to straighten out what happened, so I beg you not to take any initial suspicion personally. Let's get it over with."

Luna's mention of the necklace gives me a twinge of unease, and I turn to her. "Uh, actually … I'd like to know, first, that it's safe for me to reset." I tap the amethyst with a hoof. "What with the necromancy and all."

"You were wearing the necklace at the start of this loop," Celestia says before her sister can reply. "There will be no paradox. We'll figure out the rest later."

"Was my spirit in the necklace at the start of the loop?"

"No, but even if that reverts, your body will be animate and Luna can simply redo the reanchoring. There's no mechanism for harm — it's no more dangerous than it would be if you were standing at a slightly different location inside the circle." She gives Luna a pointed stare until Luna glances at me and nods in confirmation.

"Okay, no offense, but you're not thinking this through, again," I say, feeling my heartbeat speed up under the heavy jewelry. "That's one possible problem, and having an answer for it doesn't make the rest of them go away. For instance, now that I'm some sort of undead offense to equinity, what happens if I cast a Euthanatos and do brain damage that doesn't actually kill me?"

"Then it'll get fixed once you reset. You don't know any magic powerful enough to have meta-loop effects."

I stand my ground. "Sorry, that's not enough. I don't have the Elements of Harmony as a safety net this time, and given how much trouble I've already gotten into with unreliable memories, I'm not taking any chances. I want to know exactly what a Euthanatos is going to do to me before trying to reset myself. And if that's not going to work, I need to know, now, a spell that will."

Celestia sighs. "Fine. Come, Luna. Let's go back to your notes and get her an answer."

Luna opens her mouth, but appears to reconsider as she looks back and forth between us. "Very well," she says meekly, and the two of them turn to the door leading back into the central vault.

I'm speechless for a moment, but the opening of the door snaps me back to my senses. "Excuse me?" I say, raising my voice. "Get me an answer? I'm not invited to the research session that will determine whether my brain will break again?"

They look back. Luna has the grace to look ashamed, but Celestia's glaring. "I hope you're not implying that you have the knowledge to add anything productive to our discussion."

"No, and I hope you're not implying that's the only factor to consider here."

"Think logically for a moment, Twilight. I find it hard to believe that, after all the problems time looping has caused you — not to mention your front-row seat to the Want-It-Need-It disaster — you'd have any enthusiasm for dabbling in how both time and mind magic interact with necromancy."

"Under the circumstances, yes! How is that hard to believe?!"

"Twilight," Luna says, trying to sound stern and failing utterly, "there are lines which must not be crossed." She clears her throat and focuses her guilt. "We … have already failed you. Let us take the consequences of this upon ourselves."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I guess that conversation couldn't wait after all. "With all due respect, Princess," I say, "this is one of those consequences, so please let me speak." I open my eyes and stare at Celestia levelly, feeling my heart plummet to hide behind one of my ribs. "We …" In for a bit, in for a bank. "We have a problem, Princess. You don't trust me. And unless you're going to fix that, don't bother to apologize."

That gets their attention.

Celestia freezes, then turns back to me, casting a longing glance at the door over her shoulder. She takes a long breath, and pulls her muzzle into a smile. "Oh, Twilight," she says in her most gentle, maternal voice. "Listen to Luna. There's a difference between trust and prudence. I've had centuries upon centuries to see the consequences of trustworthy ponies dabbling with powers they don't understand — or, worse, understand but overreach. Don't make this into something it isn't. It's simply best that you don't cross that line."

"You don't get to 'Oh, Twilight' me right now," I say, standing my straightest and staring up into her muzzle. "I'm not talking about the research. Well, not just about the research. I came to you with a problem, and your reaction was to cage me and rip my brain apart."

"I thought you wanted us to talk about that where we could both remember it," she murmurs. "This isn't fair." The forced cheer is fading, degree by degree, from her muzzle. Luna, for her part, bites her lower lip, unable to look either of us in the eye.

"And what you did to me was?" My hooves are starting to shake with adrenaline; I have to get all this out before I lose my nerve. "Did I get a trial by jury in a loop I don't remember? Did you even listen to my side of the story before you decided I was evil?"

Celestia leans forward, speaking in clear, clipped syllables. "You took over the mind of the faithful student I care so deeply about. What was I supposed to think?"

"Celestia, she is —"

"I took over nothing! I'm the same Twilight Sparkle I've always been, but I woke up one loop and suddenly the world had gone crazy!"

"And I went to extremes to give that explanation the benefit of the doubt — only to have you lie to me, destroy my hope and toy with my feelings. Furthermore, I did not appreciate you using the cover of my faithful student's good name —"

Luna takes a step forward and brings one solleret down with a sharp crack. "Celestia! Stop! She is Twilight Sparkle. There can be no further doubt on that point."

"Let me speak," Celestia says coldly. "She questioned my actions. I was explaining the source of my earlier doubts."

"And in so doing, you evade the question at hoof. Do they persist?"

Celestia's mouth flattens into a tight line. "Kindly do not dictate to me the best manner in which to approach my student's concerns."

"Kindly cease avoiding mine," Luna says with equal frost. "Did you bid me delve back into the dark sorceries which once consumed me in order to preserve the existence of a pony you cannot even trust?"

Whoah. Looks like my talk wasn't the only one that couldn't wait.

I try to get a word in, but Celestia wheels on her sister. "I asked for what was necessary, and now we are far beyond that. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you trust her to learn dark magic."

Luna hesitates, guilt flashing on her face, then frowns, muzzle re-stiffening. "Do not cloud the issue. You drew the distinction between trust and prudence yourself. I trust Twilight Sparkle."

"Do you trust this one?" Celestia asks, raising her voice. "This Twilight has different memories than the one who saved you — and by her own admission, she works with the pony who tainted you and nearly killed us both."

"Wait," I say. "What?"

"Yes, sister. For all that, I do." Luna spreads her wings and raises a hoof. "I looked within her heart at your bidding — and the Elements of Harmony did as well, when they judged her worthy of their protection. Are you rejecting both my judgment and theirs? Then you are ill served by false words of contrition —"

"How dare you question my sincerity!" Celestia snaps, wings and hoof lifting to match Luna's defiant pose. "I acted wrongly, yes, and I admit that! But do not conflate the question of my guilt with the question of her innocence. She is not the only one who has had her trust betrayed."

The two alicorns stare at each other in silence, outstretched wingtips quivering. The temperature of the room drops a few not-entirely-metaphorical degrees. I glance down, and realize that I've taken an involuntary step back; Spike has backed into a corner and is staring with wide, frightened eyes.

I clear my throat, but neither of them so much as twitches in response. "Uh, Luna?" I say, hoping to sidetrack things. "What's she talking about? With the tainting and the killing?"

"My sister refuses to consider," Luna says pointedly, eyes still locked with Celestia's, "that in the vast sweep of possible Equestrian histories, the Mi Amore Cadenza of your acquaintance might have been redeemed."

Cadance is evil? Cripes, how badly did time get screwed up!?

"Incorrect," Celestia says with dire calmness. "I refuse to place this stranger above suspicion based on that possibility, when the world is at stake and evidence to the contrary continues to mount even now. Or do you think nothing of the timing of this conversation, and the casualness with which she approaches forbidden arts?"

I should know better than to open my big dumb mouth and step back into this face-off, but I can't let that one go. "Hold on. I think I have the right to understand a spell that was cast on me, especially when it's affecting the only thing I can rely on from loop to loop."

My heart stops as Celestia swivels her cold eyes to me. "You have the right to do a great many things. This decision is about your judgment."

"Then Twilight was correct. You do not trust her."

"I need a basis to trust her!" Celestia roars, head whipping back to Luna, eyes bursting into light. I nearly wet myself on the spot. I've never heard the Royal Canterlot Voice out of the Living Sun, and it is a thing of magnificent and horrible power. "Stand down and let us speak!"

Luna doesn't even flinch. "Here is basis enough." She blinks her eyes into radiant darkness. "She is Twilight Sparkle. My savior. Bearer of Magic."

"It is not nearly so simple, sister," Celestia hisses, "and every word you say makes this less amenable to rational approach."

"It is exactly that simple," Luna says with ominous finality. An intangible wind whips up, sending a ripple coursing through the galaxy of her mane, flaring the stars within. The aurora of Celestia's mane lifts and strengthens in response, lighting the walls with diffuse pastel glows. "Twilight Sparkle hath indicted thee for thy mistrust. Twilight Sparkle, who we wronged most greviously, in fear proven erroneous — who nonetheless offered us reconciliation and even now works to save us all." Gravity goes a little wibbly as she begins hovering a hoof's-edge off the floor. "Abandon thy fear, or admit it and face her judgment. I cannot allow again thy pretenses of a millennium past."

Celestia crouches. The glow of their eyes intensifies, and energy fills the room like static electricity before a lightning strike. My breath comes out in steam, which boils away before it can clear my nose; my skin breaks out in simultaneous sweat and goosebumps.

Oh, sweet alicorn shit. I did not need a front-row seat to the next Celestial War.

The air of the room begins to distort, pockets of superheated and subglacial air colliding and collapsing. Spike sprints across the room and dives behind the false cover of an old wooden chair. I scramble back and dive behind the false cover of Spike.

Then Celestia blinks.

And like that, it's over. The seething air slams from sublimation point to hard freeze. Celestia flinches, eyes closed, and takes several shallow breaths through her nose. Her wings droop, then fold, and there is a single click of solleret on brick as her raised hoof returns to the ground.

Luna holds her flared posture a moment longer, then resettles her own wings and blinks her eyes back to normal. Her hooves touch down, and I realize she's trembling. The room starts slowly thawing.

"Stars damn it, Luna," Celestia says faintly.

Luna merely closes her eyes in reply, breathing in and out through her nose, and Spike and I don't dare move. My erstwhile mentor turns to look at me. "Twilight?"

I peek out around the edge of the chair. "Yes?"

She's standing tall, body held in a rigid approximation of control, and there are fresh tears trickling down her cheeks. "The honesty she asked for puts me in an impossible position, but … I can't hurt her again, not even to save the world." She stops to breathe. "Twilight … I need you. The looping you, the one I'm talking to now. I can't defeat Chrysalis without you. But you're right, I don't trust you. The instant I realized what you knew, it was clear you were a threat to Equestria even more dire than Chrysalis, and even if we repelled the invasion, I was going to have to … address that. That hasn't changed. So I suppose that apology will have to wait."

Intellectually, some part of me knew that was coming, but to actually hear that from Princess Celestia is more horrible than I could have imagined. I feel the room go floaty around me. A burning sensation pools and pours through my chest, like somepony just ripped my heart out through my ribs.

"T-twilight?" Spike asks, looking between me and Celestia with the unalloyed horror that can only come from a child whose parents are fighting.

I touch a hoof to his shoulder in what I hope is a comforting gesture, and swallow through a dry throat. I wish I could tell him it's okay. I wish I could tell myself that. But it's a very long distance from okay, and the only possible thing to do is to pick up the pieces and bring them as far back as I can.

I force myself to my hooves, face Celestia squarely, and take a long, shaky breath of my own. "Well," I say. "That's a start. But I can't help you under these circumstances."

"That's the only sane response for you." Celestia looks over at Luna, and adds bitterly: "Which is why Equestria's only chance at salvation was to avoid this talk."

Luna meets Celestia's stare with glistening eyes and trembling jaw.

"Then so be it," she whispers. "It was my sister who I intervened to save."

Author's Note:

Remember how I was going to skip a week to rebuild my buffer? Yyyyeah. Thanks to health issues that sent me through the emergency room and kicked off a rolling ten-day freakout, I've gotten jack shit done for writing since we talked last.

I'm at the ragged end of my prewritten material, but I will commit to posting the next chapter another two weeks from now, Tuesday Wednesday, April 23. (I'm going to do the same thing I've been doing and make my release date Tuesday evening, but if you start thinking "Wednesday" then I get to be early instead of late.) Here's to hoping that two weeks (minus Babscon) gives me enough time to get another chapter or two written and pre-read, so I can give you another commit date then. :ajsleepy:

So let's move on to something more cheerful: story recommendations!

For winning Chapter 11's make-up-an-Easter-egg contest, Prawo Jazdy asked me to plug Query's "An Existential Nightmare In Equestria." This novel-length work is about a brony sent to Equestria by mysterious forces, and you should enjoy it for many of the same reasons you like Hard Reset 2. Okay, not the time loops or brain-melting memory loss — but you do have a snarky hero, with plenty of geek bonuses (the protagonist's a systems administrator, and the first chapter includes a sequence where he does some Unix commandline work), and the story engages in the same sort of relentless escalation you've seen here.

And Arania, who won the guess-the-egg contest, actually published a new story to claim their prize! If this is what happens when I run contests, I've gotta do them more often. :twilightsheepish: "The Outsiders" is also thoroughly enjoyable for similar reasons to this story — it starts with Twilight Sparkle glancing out a window to see herself wandering through the palace gardens, and then draws back the veil on a conspiracy of alternate universes caught up in an existential struggle. It's got a remarkably deft touch with exposition — both in dropping hints of its wider world, and in painting the picture of how the Twilight we meet is different from the Twilight we know. In conclusion, I'll be following this one myself, and there's no better time to get in on The Outsiders than now (when it's on the ground floor).